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astralnymphh · 2 months

Text

copy that, romeo

— ellie williams was supposed to be your supervisor, not your object of infatuation ~ ♡

⋆❝ this is cordero tower, calling in.❞⋆

CHAPTER ONE: SUMMERTIME INTERLUDE . NEXT CHAPTER > ♡. pair; firewatcher!ellie x recruit!reader

♡. summary; it's 1995, and the angel crater national park welcomes you; a retrograde lookout all to yourself, a space nerd for a supervisor, and a whole summertime job spent in hues of sepia and juniper, waiting for the first sign of smoke. ninety–three days. you don't know her face, you share no breath— but by walkie–talkie, you know her voice.

♡. a/n; READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. CLICK HERE. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. ALSO THIS.

♡. content; EVENTUAL SMUT, narrator present, silly fourth wall breaking, a dash of comedy, slowburn (somewhat), living alone, long–distance pining, reader/characters are similar ages(mid–late 20s), depression, heavy metaphor usage, complicated poetry styles, mentions of organs, mentions of weaponry, metaphorical death, grim humor, drinking alcohol, drunk!ellie, drunken flirting (vaguely and bluntly), ellie jumpscare, uh-oh sassy masc apocalypse, she's corny and cheesy too (a dork), awkwardness, humiliation, lighthearted bickering, nicknames used. [lmk if i missed anything] . SERIES PLAYLIST .

WC; 6.1k+ ✮ thank you @trackinglessons for your sexy brain and beautiful ideas + custom art ✮ masterlist ✮ series masterlist ✮ ellie ref sheet

Summertime is the interlude between misery and Mondays.

May was a rough patch for you. A coagulated chapter within the spring world, a shunned ponder, red jello in the gradience of passage. Tempus, time. Early months hence were just as pessimizing, doubt is an arid reservoir in you. But, as a maypole sits a svelte giant in the sweet Beltane soil, braving an invisible smile whilst little ones— little laughters, spun prances and wraps of dainty satin to an ensnare on its long body, it weeped for its delicate capture. You; flesh coarse like timber, relate to the log standing, ensnared. Sunk in that gelatinous texture, unmoving as pressures collided with the surface outward, ripples everywhere yet incapable of sprinkling through you. Something would have to delve itself to drag you out.

Chapters; cusp of autumn to April, every single month, wound ‘round you. They each had separating colors, and spared turns to soundly fold your limbs and bulge your skin in ribbons. It snipped your circulation, shriveled the ripe breath in your skull and traded it for a pressure. A throb. Weight upon the cranium, you felt the narrowing cradle inside wilt from thought, drain from consciousness, and soften your stiff eyes locked on drywall. Hour to hour.

But those weren't the only things taunting you with a dance— expectations danced faster. Expectators, paired minds heaping expectations; yourself and the selves blackjacking their wants expressed as worries onto you. Stressful creatures, they are. Bosses, co–workers, energy vampires disguised as lover boys prowling about your workspace, general creatures of the retail world. God, they're like ravenous wolves snarling hunger through their teeth, slobber moonlight–bright of that dire carnality for variety meats. Depression just took the first serving before they could.

Even the domesticated places are a wilderness untamed.

Stress drained you of life. It softened your desire to even try. Gods are dulling, blamed you, on another dull morning where the trickling sound of coffee pouring drilled irk into your ears, rather than simply a trickle. Caffeine, a roast so void–black was brewed to un–drain you. Yet, it fuckin didn't.

Impugning was your everything, until it could no longer purify; Elaine. Emptiness. Hmm, you gave this state of vacuum–headed hollowness a name, keenly because it deserved so by its dismantling of your autonomy. You don't want it. It's not you. It's Elaine. A some–angel fallen out of grace, weary of its wander upon a washed up cove, beige toned and swept shivering–cold. Interested by the warmth your sundry organs pushed into its light silhouette.

And perhaps, if the bird was never freed from its heavenly cage, it would be powerless to pester you, to poke the meat inside with the pointy end of plumage.

Elaine was an organized assault on your wellbeing, moreso against the pulpy, pinkish-gray blob sitting ugly above your throat. Believe it, or assume it. A paralysis, moving shoulders from bed sheets proved farcical, running bristles over your teeth twice a day rhymes with nonsense, and midnight ink born to swirl and curtsy to convey thoughts gone rancid, goes unused atop the white flutter between your journal hardcovers. You have a morbid case of the seasonal blues, except this time, the season is beyond its blue hues. Spring, a fuckin’ kaleidoscope embellished. Blotches of big fuck you greens so vibrant you'd long to die from your tears, and an abstract spit of smell me reds thorny as your stomach brought to a scream for something. Anything.

It was a slow, banal descent into the jello.

January, floating atop the sweet delicacy, atop your bed.

February, the solidity gave out beneath you, goo subtly etching around your ankles, calves, elbows, unforgivingly cold when it first hit. When in reality, the bed was heating from your lay.

March, marrow goes heavy, your limbs at this time could not lift, your efforts waned, and satiating the rumble in you with sustenance was forgotten, as that rumble got so, so.. quiet.

April, the jello had stuffed your nose, your sockets, and lullabied your ligaments. You let it happen.

May.

You let yourself sink. Let yourself decompose and go mush in the head. Like a zombie.

The descent doesn't taste of sweet delight, but it also fails to churn your lips with a heavy saccharinity. Neutral, your hopeful side did say. Nothing, rationality slapped past your lips.

Five months, either a misery, or a Monday.

Yes Eve, a bite out of the Apocrypha will indeed fill this human abysm in me. Forbidden knowledge is my craving. Contraband of truth, bite to bite, I envy that I could not cope with its coating of my empty gut earlier.

Innocence is so dull. You are depressed, not a fucking saint for staying indoors, starving your rage.

But on came a crisp bouquet of biker–boy newspapers; ‘Hiring’, and a few scans further; ‘Do you harness a great love for the evergreen?’

A honed section in Missoula's local print— jobs. A publisher boldens and compresses enthusiasm sporadically; writing–on–the–wall hollers speckle themselves meticulously on the newsprint that strike a sense of obligation into the susceptible and soft–of–heart chunk of the population. A pert voice read with persuasion between your ears, gritty in tone and stereotypical of a middle aged ranger, vocals fried by cigarettes but as booming as a cannon.

“Do you care for the animals inhabiting our national sanctuaries?”

Abutting small paragraphs, the sagging belly of a black bear, tender caramel snout and snoopy–faced, fitted on its head a mustard yellow campaign hat labeled, ‘Smokey’. Its burly, blundering frame on all fours stood out over a comic–style vista of the Montana rockies, paws obscured by blocks of thickset text reading ‘Only you’.

Huh, a realistic depiction of Smokey Bear— over a not–so–realistic background, avant–garde.

Tree greens sprawly that didn't shout ‘Fuck you’ on your poor, sunken eyes searing for sleep and a twilight darkness. Sagey lichens that didn't draw out the spasms above your own bones, calling your regard to bring pin–sized problems and blemishes sprawling your own flesh out of the bliss of ignorance. Brunette muds with only a fleck of sun, a slice of earth dull, humble and unprocessed enough from benevolence to leave you unconsumed, unsunken. A mere slop and pudge in the future and wake of your walk. Nothing obnoxiously grand, nothing sanctimonious. Nature is by birth— righteous, regardless.

“Before we can be proud of our nation, our nation must be proud of us!”

The advertisement gropes for a summertime made free. A cyclopean sinkhole in the becoming of time. Recruits–in–waiting are called to bargain normalcy and the bustling cities plump with lumbering limbs of sheen–tight pantyhose shaded under short shapes of plaid skirts for boot–cuts n’ backpacks hefty with gear that could either save you the trouble of mountaineering by path, or trouble your time with a faulty snapping of two things. Rope and neck.

Too grim?

A months’–long moment of tension snapped at the pressure joint— Summertime the snapper. You'd be devoting ninety–three suns, ninety–two moons, and some two–million breaths of fir laden air up in Angel Crater National Park, northwest of here. Pupils flickering the double-page setup, you continue: A pictographic, old–fashioned lookout taller than the timber spires surrounding would be your station, your core of operations, for those three young and sunny months. Boxed provisions and supplies are guaranteed to ship every other week, and testimonies encourage even the anxious, balmy buzzes of your brain to sigh in solace learning that the weald creatures there— are mostly harmless, if you aren't bred an imbecile. Alongside, an appointed supervisor, whose name was never disclosed duly except for a scratch of text gingerly clasped in quotations reading, “E.R.W” trailing the mention of said supervisor. What’s required of you was delivered plain written and patent on that shoddy newspaper, held thick in your intrigued thumbs; Keep the forest from catching wild fire.

You fiddled the idea. Should I? Or should I wallow the summer away? Fiddled it anxiously, fiddled it needily, bumped the clumped rim of the newsprint on your cupid's bow in bending rumination, steadied it cause newspaper smells oddly good— but next to minutes racing hours upon musing, a conclusion had to knock your static looping of gloomdom in the butt.

One phone call, and the bird would be barred again. Pesterer, Elaine the Terrible, would be cast back where eyes can't roll over the cottony clouds. Just a couple fucking prods to your number–pad, might genuinely un–drain you.

Luckily, you aren't an idiot reared to take bullshit longer than meritted.

You took the job.

May 30th, 1995, 7:28 PM.

What does any clever pedestrian traipsing capricious terrain store in their pack to avoid total gangly–branch–grips–of–nature butchery?

Item one; Black nylons— scratch that, you aren't getting paid to snag at every kink and curl of the forest, tighties of gossamery fabrics are a no–go. Citywear stays citywear. Double scratch on those sweet, blackberry Mary Janes too prized and polished to muck up in shit of the earth. Immolating the rigid underside of some chunky hiking boots to the unruly woodlands is the adrenaline pinnacle of out–worlding, come on. It proves you've got a hardy backbone and the right row of teeth to chew what you've bitten off, sullying boots ‘till the color is forevermore stained. Backup boots are tradition, so that's item number two. Best get used to cargo, ankle–length overalls and miscellaneous graphic tees, cause the rockies’ fashion gurus can't get enough of ‘em!

Clothing, check.

Swathes of ropes twined pumpkiny orange and plenty of clanging anchors to bolt them in, goddesses and gods forbid you be tight on anchors. Medical kits— duh, did you trudge all from yonder just to die out here? This country is dicey, at the cuddly claw of a bear, or not. Hair ties, scrunchies you hoarded as a teenager in the eighties, disposable camera to suit your flaky memories, and an eclectic dump of nutty and fruity cereal bars galore. Unless you're allergic. Substitute.

Accessories and essentials, check.

Ah, and a spare pistol and switchblade in replacement of newcomer paranoia! Keep that hush–hush though. No matches or lighters, obviously.

True American, illegal weaponry, check.

All this paraphernalia bangs and clangs heavily on the polyester holding of your backpack, straining your scruff uncomfortably as you tiptoe, scarcely tumble, and tread lightly across a log. It creaks, it groans, it wobbles slightly over the blaring white rush of a stream, suctioning your heart–to–stomach when it grinds a wee bit louder than you thought it should.

“Shit!” you crimp your torso in and dart wary hands on the timber beam at your feet, assuming a gawky newborn–bambi–pose in hesitation, shuddering in cracked tones, “This can't be the right way..”

Hoping on an evaporated sun, you frazzlingly testify in repetitive thought that the map mailed by the rangers a week prior led you on this perilous and incorrect path.. for the last two days. Winding and wounding, literally— your bruises are measureless and on top of that ache your skin to want no more of this. But, you have to. A boulevard of brown, short and stout, wrung unyielding from one gray side to the greener other, a shortcut. Assumed to be a shortcut, based on the route drawn by utter confusion.

Oh yeah, and remember the advertisement stating the park was twenty-five miles out?

Nothing about that hot-press, black-cat inked newspaper accounted for the extra eight weighing your ankles down and your motivation dead low. Twenty-five only stretched out unto the ranger parking lot. The entrance, for fuck's sake.

Shaky flit of your digits, they float gently off the carve–veined surface of the wood, unfolding your spine as you rise. “Wrong way—” you utter to your chest, oven–warm as it puffs, “—gotta be the wrong..”

Tentative–ism is normal here, right? Like, no way you're cautious and sweating at the brow for nothing. Right?

One foot— creeakkk— in front of the prudent other, two sailing lunges, three hurried hops and a matched thud soft as marshmallows plants your shoes to hallowed ground. Blades of verdant whiskers so innocent crush under, and it feels fucking— demeaning, actually. All that gulping and pausing.. for nothing.

You tuck a shoulder–glance to the makeshift ricket of a bridge, and blankface, “Didn't feel like killing me today?”

The tree bears no reply.

“Hmph, surprising. Seeing as someone killed you,” a sigh parts, fading into the whip and straightening of your head, “figured the pursuit of revenge doesn't stop at ghosts.” and the hoist of your boot up, carrying onward.

Sundown paints, crescent layers repose approaching moonlight and dying sunlight sprawls psychedelic limbs above you. Balance ambling in tiny bops only made the swirling grasp of those gradient rays more trippy on your eyes and coercive of daydreams, rot–nip for the brain. You spot nutbrown brick— a fireplace in your mind, fevered heat roasting on the inside wall of your forehead too. It was Christmas before the storm, a subzero December. And it was, in fact, colder than the unreachable heaven. Dad was hunkered down in front of that innocuous amber crackle, his right leg slack to the ground and his left arched in the neck of an acoustic guitar, arms plaiting its hollow curve into his chest. 1971, when the veil through and within was thin, and love–vomit poured so easily through. A time of justified ignorance; Childhood.

Stood you adjacently, legs short and posolutely not stout, dimpled in the knees. Aged two years, and mushy as ambrosia, contorting your mouth jubilant as you're told for the camera, contrary to your father with his expression drooping to his strumming fingers. Sickly sweets, adult–you unpurposefully neglects to twirl lips at, your extraordinary grins now turned ordinary flat–lines. Holiday memoirs, those spoiled ripe quick after adulthood bolted itself in the slabs of your tender spine and instilled an artificial love for labor and country, displacing nostalgia from ever being seen as a flesh existence.

“Say cheese!”

America is sub–human, and sub–humans created America, the imperfect cycle. Families tear, eagles outcry, friends drink their death, and the days continue to unfold without a trace of acknowledgement. Days exist where you soak festivities and stave off the pointer–finger poking at so called slack you relish, and some twenty dwindling years ahead the slowly deadening oak grove road, carousals will be criminally known as layabout–makers.

Joy is a luxury now.

A blockage prevents your foot from winching clean forward, meeting the bone–hard kiss of a boulder to sore your toes. “Fuck!” you brand your throat walls to a shout, pissed at the rock rather than your woolgather that lead you to said rock, “Fucking fuckhead rock!”

Woolgather means daydreams, by the way. Funner to use words that don't make a split of sense. Yay for English.

The sunset clouds dripped with a mania of fascination and had strung your brain to its hypnotic whims, like a siren had soloed a trance, drifting your mind somewhere utopian and phantasmagorical. It sounds silly, but, blanking out seems so often out of grasp from your control, you usually could never flag what caused it, when it started, and why. Nothing practical surfaces. Fuck, your head is so tangled upon memories, you haven't even noticed the progression of scenery twelve o’clock from you.

Ponderosa boughs band together where your eyes brush shapes and forage for a clue of what scene wants to greet you ahead. The sequestering silence of rustles indicates a clearing, possibly. Possible as it could be, you fully expected this cruel footslog to wallop your ass into a minefield, so you bet cards and course carefully beneath the crowns of pine, completely bent to the chance of another obstacle threatening your tender ankles. Leafy whispers above strum your ears brimmed with its sotto voce song, and then— colors it silently behind.

“Holy shit.”

Presence crumbles above you, and opens before you. The lookout. Wood shafts slant in opposing directions, up and up along four brawny beams in three consecutive layers, like a blocky cone. The face closest to you overlaps the backing rest, giving the illusion of tufted wooden legs sketched under all lackadaisical. Endgame daylight spies from behind this one–roomed cyclops, gushing final spurts of citrus rays as if it truly was an orange squeezed to pulp. So, the flank and forehead of that towering, mountainscaping lookout rolling a cold shoulder to the sun, paves in a tattered tapestry of garnet smokiness instead. Shadow of sundown. From where you sow feet, a football field apart, petty details are difficult to squint into clarity, but the window panes appear tawny, too.

An intimidation, “So much for a tiny room.” A beaute intimidation, “And no actual bathroom.” it makes you feel like a genuine insect compared.

A sort of stairwell serpent faintly chokes the foot, the calves, the thighs, and punctures kindly a mouth leading up to the skirting balcony hedged in many gaunt teeth. Tamping gravel closer, subtleties and fine points fade as the tower's plank–lined and flat underbelly turns to you. Larger and larger, it dips darkly from miniscule masquerade.

Bringing your decently aching foot to the first step, you press into the curb and meander your cruder aching— thanks to a random boulder— foot weirdly on the outer ridge of your boot. Making it up the stairs to fund yourself a fucking break was a palpable mockery in itself. Like, ‘Hey! Climb this long–ass stairwell for a teensy break before doing it all over again the next day!’.

Un–fucking–believable.

Fifty years of history and past rangers grate in your walk, the floorboards thump with their stories, thump into your skin— verse you a wordless eulogy. Each step is a sentence, and every sentence branches into a whole tree of genealogy, lives. Lifestyles you can't understand now, but will.

Really redundant of me to highlight the generations alive in those floorboards. The walk up there isn’t that exciting.

After the last step, you're met eye–to–frame with a scratched door, pygmy window centered and paper–screened from within, and the stories predating your stay inspire a comical theory, “Jeez— bears make it up here?” you half–suppress a snort, palming a fist on the doorknob coldly before rotating and giving sympathetic pressure to the door.. jammed.

“C’mon..” knuckles pulse into the knobs plate, gradually upping the force you pushed, “.. losing light out here..” eventually adding your other hand to sweeten the push.

Sure, a whole year has gone by since it homed somebody, and it's retro, but come on.

Breaking splinters into the door was your last intention, so you try so–so carefully— to some extent, “Please..” now butting the tip of your boot on the rim to ease it— ease, and finally pry, a clapback of wind blowing dusty, nightfall air past your crescent cheeks following the snap of the fallow door.

Thank goodness for your grace and balance, some days, avoiding a timely trip face–first to a floor so powdered in light dust, any kid would mistake it for a good time sweeping snow angels.

Not so good for the respiratory system though.

Muggy space filtering your lungs tightly, you cough out, “Gah— fuck!” nothing higher than the level of a guttural wheeze, your chest punching into your throat. Gaping out the last flock of butterflies clumped at your collarbones, the tickle inside calms, and you find your sights taking in a dark box. A dim orb of lily silver glow rests in the middle of the pall room, raising the natural, “Where's the ligh— ah, big clunky thing—”

Flicking the off–white and stubby nub attached to an impractically sized lightswitch, which frankly resembles an electric box externally, an essence of Apollo ladens the room. Lemony–gold light, passably bright off the redwood ceiling, and murmuring a low buzz through one ear, and out the other, your pupils caper along the contrasting shades awakened.

“Definitely retro, but.. no roommates.” spoke you, gingerly content with the colors piecing this camper pad together. You observe.

Forget–me–nots bled the cotton bedsheets baby blue, leavening the mattress with a tidy emotion as it's tucked, folded at the top and draped in a complimentary quilt— benevolent blues, hues your lids soften on. The bed beelined from the doorway, a corner counter fawn–brown as the wood extends adjacent to it, covering the northeastern angle of the room. Magpied brands of canned food clutter shelves, spines spanning thick books of epic poetry to sci–fi comics create a ribcage of literature along a compact bookcase perching that countertop, and sunken in the east side of it, a steel sink. It shimmered sunflower bands of light as you moved, a rainbow–arched faucet brightened completely.

Step by step, you draw near a circular table in the middle. Strange rods and gadgets stuck out of the borders, inlaid glass protecting a local map so sleek you could see a phantom of your face in it, and a black bar looming the width, so it rings with tangible importance. Of which you'll gauge about later. Truthfully, the journey by foot here? Dead–beating, your knees bloated, throbbed flesh hot, and almost buckled; fatigues infamous way of scolding you to sit the fuck—

“Sup Maple lake, you there?”

A pang hammers to your heart, and a crawlish wave of startled blood pales from your face and drops to your jaw, “Jesus!” sweat hitting you a blink after, every normal function just— flunked. That voice, more like a ruptured stereo sizzling, caught you the fuck off guard. Now you dither, dumbassery taking your eyes through a new loop of figuring out where–why–how and what the robotic intruder wants.

But pre–realizing, your ears perk to a more coherent, and outstretched string of static, “C'mon, know you're checked in.” and post–realization tugs your eyes to a mustardy n’ black cased device; a walkie–talkie.

Okay, way to creep recruits out. Whoever, for whatever reason— at the nick of night too, gimme’ a break. You wry, knitting raisin crinkles above your nose, trying to discern your palette of options; pick up the walkie, tap in and feign politeness in the shortest and sluggiest scraps of small talk to be done with the day, or rant off the bat— highlight how fucking late it is, and how taxing a double–goddamned–day hike made your head and patience feel. And right now, the second response route feels arguably more tempting than—

“This is Cordero Tower, calling in. Can see ya’ standing by the Osborne, by the way.”

Its staticy feedback has waned completely, densening a thick husk and tilting towards a honeyed undertone. Relaxed sounding or not, what the fuck.

You react predictably, flicking your chin west, then east only for you to meet the dead of night— thanks mountains— stalking perfectly in every single window. So, useless to check. Answering it was a yes–go, it would be sickenly awkward to thrust it under the rug now. Your knees pull forward, eyes calligraphing the power buttons tinted in cherry light, palm drawing to meet your focal point.

The case is ribbon gentle under your fingertips’ graze, fresh and in store–new condition. Maybe the only thing hot from the pot of newfangled technology. Plastic intricacies roll under until you settle on a swollen button, denting the plush of your finger as you press, hold, and speak. A crisp crackle activates your line, tuning you in.

Breath hesitates between your chords, “Maple.. lake.. speaking,” off–the��tongue words manifesting on–the–spot, “you can see me?”

“Yeah.” the walkie chuckles, sugary curl pitching up and through their tone, “Look out ur’ north window, you'll see her.”

Her?

Nooking your nose north, you only widen pupils on that same, starless coast of darkness nosing the rim of your window sills. What do they mean to—

“Nh–no,” You literally said north, “get closer to the window, n’ look up.” What, are you a fucking sparkling, rasp–voiced eagle?

“Fuck are you talking about,” mouthed you void of voice, stumped on what this person was getting at. Wedging your knuckles below the meshy underside of your backpacks right strap, you wrangle it down your arm as you glide rubbery sole along croaking oak, tossing that bag so cumbersome atop a lily white pillow— looking fresher than a daisy, and clamber the mattress pliantly dented to your knees to grasp a broader panorama.

And with that window hood washed over, a convoy of fireflies focus a tiny constellation in the murked glass. Little pinholes of light, dots in the distance. They rough–hew a blur, but the excess seconds taken to brood squints and balance the blurry blotches, an outline crops up. Another fire lookout, sprouting from rock and rise of a berg. Offspring of the distant cordillera that gives this whole park its sense of a cradled–woodland, but either way thought, a lookout hosts it home on top.

“You can see me from all the way out there?” you wondered, truly. I mean— at minimum, a sore sprawl of miles bridges you both.

“Mhm..” a pause loiters that fluid hum, then some really throaty syllables, “Binoculars~” you could almost envision— nah, feel the stare of those binocs, undoubtedly taking note of every contort in your body right now.

“Oh thats, totally.. not,” you blunt your tone, shying a few inches from the glass, “.. creepy.” awkwardly. “Uh, who are you anyways— are you like, uh, another recruit?” as you engage small talk, grumpy frown pouting, the habit of kissing your wrist to your jaw as you would a piglet–tailed telephone overruns your burnt out focus, having to wince the walkie away when your eardrums nearly burst.

Ouch.

“For one, I'm actually your supervisor. I know, I don't sound like a typical smoker–lunged, middle–aged white dude.” their tone gruffs and deepens to impersonate, finger air quotes practically radiating from the other end, “And two, my name is Ellie— Ellie Miller–Williams, if you care.”

“Don't.” you heave out the pain stretching your head, aching each time you simply thunk.

“Straightforward,” her timbre ups in approval, seemingly, “I like it. I like you, recruit I dunno’ the name of.” and a bubble hics her throat, quite audibly.

“Not single.” Wrong, just uninterested. Hooking two fingers in the fabric handle of your bag and craning it to the ground, with scattered grates of plastic buckles skating the floor.

“What?”

Oh, shit she wasn't— oops, ‘course she meant that platonically, heads so damn muggy, “Uh, it's—my name.. sorry I’m just a bit out of the loop—” Dumbass, unscramble your brain alphabet soup, will you?

“That’s a long ass name, what were your parents thinking? Haha.” Her duo–beat chuckle flares your humiliation, and then proceeds to pinch its swollen parts into total inflammation, “Where does it originate from?”

Cheesy bitch, “Can you not— I like, pfhh..” you temper yourself with a moon–cool blow to chap your lips and inflate your cheeks, ending up with a draw of an even more loosened tongue sour as it complains, “Did a whole two–day hike through the most torturous terrain just to get here, I really don't—”

Please.

And if gripes trudged through teeth aren't persuasive enough, you recess your bone–ache bod avidly in the springy haven of your bed which chirped at your weights shifting motions, collarbones packing down on your vocal chords. You shouldn't sound up to chat whatsoever. Instead, vehemently drained, “I just wanna get some shut eye, talk me over n’ the mornin’.” your thumb lying a button away from disconnecting.

“Hey, hey—” Ellie ushered, her slurry breath fogging up the mic. Lips squeak softly into it, smacking before an intone, “Can't I be a little curious?”

You synchronized in noise, sucking teeth behind heart–pursed lips, “Do you think somebody this exhausted has the appetite to entertain you?” stilling your thumb–pad on the power off key.

“If I keep bothering you,” that alone ticked you, her blatant drive to carry on when your brain rejected its substance, “.. yeah. Maybe you'll be nicer then too.. huph!” a heartier peep hicced up on the speaker, and right then that noise jogged a discovery.

“Are you drunk?” has to be.

Of course, she ignores the naked and sorely obvious, “Did your boyfriend break ur’ heart or something— an’ that's why you're out here?” bottle sloshing in the background of her mumble.

Dumbstruck, you furrow a miffy expression, “W–what, boyfriend?”

“Said you weren’t single.” she recalls, warmly unspinning the fuddle that knit your brows, “Think I forget so easily?” drawled like a sultry retort, baking your ears.

You a hundred percent forgot though.

Gosh, short–term memory sucks, or it's just your energy drought making you woozy. Blame it on lethargy, “No no, that was just.. tired talk. I thought you were hitting on me.”

“Oh? That's cute.” her choosing to say that latter statement unfolded discordantly, you seriously couldn’t gauge if that was a flirt, or another paper daisy— mock honey, a platonic notion. Even so, it sounded so damn smooth, lace to the ears. “But no, I wasn't— m'not like gay or ‘whutever.” stammered her, light snort fanning.

A stifled chuckle hops from your chest, mixing with hers, “Uhuh, cool.” halfway uncaring and halfway amused, bafflement working your facial muscles.

“Yeah, um, but seriously..” her voice drifts into a ponderous rasp, the faint rustles of flimsy paper licking page to page subtler than her speech, “what's got you out here, newbie?”

“Newbie. Really?” A brow pricks.

“I mean, you're new— new to the lookout, new to the job, in need of my phenomenal supervision and my wide range of knowledge. Yeah, a newbie.”

Then your brow mellows, tension held in your face dropping dead on backhanded flattery, “You are funnily agonizing.”

“Aw.” her scratchily suave coo has your jaw set like stone, “That's so sweet.” but her short–lived song has your heartstrings soaked in ripe honeycomb, touched to the core by sweetness nebulose and an assortment of some foreign threads. Thickened heart, tighter ribs, a churn to weaken your stomach, a maverick of things unfamiliar to you.

Momentaries, but still noticeable even if your senses were twisted backwards.

Chewing over how you'll begin to explain, a few letters sift through your chords, until you hook on a sigh, “Ah, well, I'm out here for a fuck ton of reasons—”

“Reasons, or— huhp, problems?” Ellie blurt–hics, nosy.

“..”

A brief gulp and exhale wheezes from her, “Sorry, it's the bourbons’— super good. Continue.”

You loosely split your mouth, gasping to exchange a gale for words pressing out, “A series of reasons, and problems, that I don't bother to lay on a grand platter, so you'll get a summary tossed on an appetizer plate.” you preface. Allow an elliptical gap to cut through, rousing her hum to let you know her ears are as intent–peaked as a Chihuahua’s, “Contact with my parents’ has gone cold, my last job made me want to hurl into a pack of crocodiles— and the city became too loud and too heavy–handed. Saw this job on the local paper, and got the hell out of dodge.”

An omissive summary, you meant.

There’s more that eats the heart. People can’t just.. drop the burden of knowledge wantonly on randos like they’re idling under fertile treetops waiting for the apples to plummet, biting into a pulpy biography. She’s just a girl, not a therapist.

A discomforted purr lengthens into her reply, “Mmmmh, ever try a drink or two?” her intoxicated reply.

“Oh, see,” you flap your hand and slap it to your denim clad thigh, “you are drunk.” as if she could even see your gesture.

“No, I’m Ellie, hmhm~” comes with a giggle, and you consider her state of insobriety to be— wavering, but it’s stimulating to hear her fluctuate between groaned jokes and extra raspy comments, “Still haven’t told me your name though.”

Some moments during this whole ‘Who are you?’ seminar made you concerned for your future here— if you’ll make it out psyche intact, but some moments found by winnowing through the illogical backtalk touched you with inbound camaraderie.

Invisible touches that inhabit your neck with a leak of your name so— sincerely. It transforms into a fairer sound on your ears when she repeats it, affirming it. Nobody else's teeth clutches your name so welcome as she.

“Hmm, ‘name kinda fits your voice.” odd commentary, but since composed with her already peculiar and drunken tongue, the shoe fits.

That said, crabby confusion seems easier to articulate, “Thanks, weirdo.” but lips rebellious, they press an inevitable grin together.

“No problem, sleepyhead.”

So many nicknames.

Recognizing that downtick in hubbubs and breaths on the walkie, checking out for the night posed as a passionate option the burden weighing your eyelids couldn't or shouldn't veto. So you haul your torso up, kick and poke your toes over ankles to butt your boots off prior planting your heels, whisking toward the lightswitch and committing your lookout to swell with the outside's dark fresco.

Stygian tones.

“Speaking of sleepy heads..” you taper off speech, leaving the rest to her— touch wood— wide enough, hopefully–not–drunk–enough imagination to fathom as you slide and slip desperately beneath woolen blankets, sleepy worries, and sentences sailed to rest.

“Aw man.” Ellie bums so, so stupidly, for comical value.

“Yeah, man.”

“Mpht—” wetness smacks, “wanted to bore a pretty girl to death with recruit regulations and syllabi..”

How would you know?

In reality, Ellie was reaching a transcendent caliber of wasted, drinking up your atmospherics and drunken to her gutly core. Woods hatch forlorn people; forlorn people get thirsty, “But, mhh, heads’ nearly falling off, whoof.” she expresses a soaring of vowels, but it parallels a gruff howl more.

Drowsy, buzzy jubilancy, plucking her flirty strums. You sugarcoat the flare in your chest hearing ‘pretty girl’, ears clicking to the swallow convincing your heart that Ellie was not flirting. As established; She’s under the influence, and not gay. Your brain repeats that, over and over, repeat, repeat, she isn’t flirting.

“Hey, here's a tip..” you inch the walkie a penny away from your flopped head, clefting your lip open, “Don't get drunk on the job. They didn't hire you to decoct your brain the day before chaperoning a recruit in the literal wilderness. So, stash that shit, n’ let's both get some shut eye, yeah?” and saying all that, may have just cashed in your last dose of breath and brain cells for the night.

Ellie being Ellie— well, what you suspect is a ‘her’ thing after these few speckled minutes, dopily laughs at you. And dammit if she wasn't glamoring a dopey smirk in accord, you’ll have gleaned wrong.

A voice, “Who’s the boss again?” her witty and cruel wisecrack, “They didn't pay you to boss the— hup, boss around.”

They will pay you to confront and reflect your spectrum of limits if this girl brushes their seams, that's for certain. Or, play God and lambast her, tender as milk.

There's even a stroke of a chance, that your crooked lips poached her dopey grin instead, “Kay, well, maybe they'll reimburse me for your poor services.”

“My services are not poor. You'll see, tomorrow.” the volume of her melts away, going muted under liquid swills clanging on glass.

“Please tell me that's the sound of you putting the bottle away.”

“Mhm!” came out plugged, the bottle confining her garble, then popping clean as a cork, “Fuck— okay,” she siphons air in, pure little clink tinting the end of her sharp–edged sniffle, “Make sleeping in earlier worth it t’morrow, wanna drive you nuts with my questions.” she nasals, drawing near the mic again.

Such a magpie, “Cause you're lonely?” and weird.

“Shut up,” she shushes you, a satin whisper light–hearted and quick on beat, “M’not lonely anymore, right?” The type of softly spoken outcry that would balloon your cheeks with soreness if you were face–to–face with the throat that conducts it. Involuntary smiles plague you everywhere. But there is no mouth, no larynx, no throat that you view the swallow of. Just a walkie, so you settle in stoicism.

You tug your upper–lip and pivot your eyes, drumming up something clever to combat, “In a sense. Not like we’re bunkmates, thank goodness.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie breaks into a cuss spout so serenely, she sounded small and harmless, “just go to bed.” reduced to birch in winter shed of its brittle autumn arguments.

“Don’t gotta tell me once.”

By the first full and emphatic giggle she cast just now that wasn’t suppressed nor achieved by humble pie, you take it that Ellie found you funnily harrowing just as her, two peas in an outstretched pod. Fault be with her, for getting wasted. Otherwise, you might have pried her skull open with questions dolled up as a pruner, clipping the forelimbs that are foliated in a messy breadth of first glance leaflets and attitudes until you piece it prettily, in a way that thralls you to never shrink your eyes back into their sockets. Drunk people are like prone beehives though, so you don't prod them.

Tomorrow, you can paint her portrait, or vice versa.

“Whatever you say, newbie.”

And with the whirry crunch of the walkie shutting off, Monday, came to a close.

if you enjoyed this chapter, please lmk what you thought!! i love getting asks about my content ♡

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parkerslatte · 3 months

Text

Finding Home || Part Two

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

Summary: After spending the whole night talking with Y/N, Azriel is summoned to Rhys’s office where he has a very particular set of mission for him.

Finding Home Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The morning after Azriel left Y/N’s apartment, he left with a wide smile on his face. It felt nice to have a conversation with someone that wasn’t constantly surrounded by their mate or have a child run up to them halfway through the conversation and completely take their attention away. For the first time in a while, Azriel was fully relaxed while having a conversation. Even as he made his way to Rhys’s office, he still held that relaxation within his body. Even if he had fallen asleep on her sofa with his wings tucked tightly to his body, the shadowsinger had never slept so soundly. The only thing that awoke him was the tap of Rhys against his mental shields demanding his attention.

Azriel knocked on the door to Rhys’s office and faintly heard him calling him in. Azriel stepped inside and found Rhys sitting at his desk looking exhausted. Usually Rhys took pride in his appearance but as he sat behind his desk still in his satin pyjamas, Azriel couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.

“Long night?” Aziel commented, sitting in the chair opposite.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Rhys answered.

Normally Azriel would ask him what kept him up all night but this time he didn’t, only knowing that it would be one of two answers. Feyre or Nyx. Deciding not to ask, Azriel instead asked a different question. “Why did you ask me to come here?”

Why did you pull me away from the one place I could truly be relaxed? That was the question Azriel really wanted to ask.

“Ah, that,” Rhys said. “Well we were all worried about you last night.”

“Oh,” Azriel said, deflating a little in his chair.

“You were there one moment and when Elain turned around to ask if you wanted to hold Hycinth again, you were gone,” Rhys said.

The suspicions Azriel had about no one noticing he left were confirmed. Azriel could always escape somewhere undetected but late night he made sure that his footsteps were heard. He made sure he opened the front door a little louder than normal. And he made sure to close it with more force than necessary. If anyone was paying any attention they would have easily heard that he had left. Clearly no one was paying any attention to him at all.

“I just wanted to go home,” Azriel answered. “Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.”

“Weren’t you enjoying yourself?” Rhys countered.

There was a brief moment of hesitation from Azriel before he answered. “I was, I was just tired. I hadn’t had much sleep the night before.” It was a bad lie and Azriel knew it. Rhys could immediately see through the lie too, but to save Azriel from explaining himself further, Rhys didn’t question him on it.

“Was that all you needed?” Azriel asked.

“No,” Rhys said and threw a file across the desk to Azriel.

“What is this? Another mission,” Azriel asked, picking it up.

“Of sorts,” Rhys said.

Azriel opened the file and stared at it, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “‘Have a beach day?’, ‘Feed the ducks?’, ‘Go to the theatre?’. What is this, Rhys?”

“These are personal missions for you,” Rhys answered. “Myself, as well as Cassian and the others have all noticed how absent you have been recently–”

“I have been on missions–”

“Not physically,” Rhys said. “Mentally. You barely talk to anyone unless you are spoken to. You don’t tease Cassian for a stupid comment he makes. You don’t even play with Nyx as much as you used to. Last night he asked why you don’t take him to the park anymore.”

“I–” Azriel cut himself off because he didn’t have an answer. Everything Rhys said was true.

“These missions are for you to try and enjoy yourself,” Rhys explained. “Do them in whatever order you like, but in three months' time, if I don’t see all of them ticked off, I won’t be very happy, Azriel.”

Azriel looked down at the list. There were thirty things on it ranging from small things like cooking a meal for himself to large things like jumping from the tallest mountain in The Night Court and seeing how long it takes for him to open his wings to fly.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Rhys, I don’t need to do these things. I am perfectly fine.” Another lie. Rhys once again didn’t mention it.

“Three months, Azriel,” Rhys said and stood from his chair. “Now, I have my mate waiting for me upstairs. We have about twenty minutes before Nyx wakes up.”

Azriel didn’t respond with a teasing remark like he usually does. Of course Rhys can’t even stay for a moment longer to just talk to Azriel. If he had only decided to stay for a few moments longer, Azriel might have opened up to him. All Azriel did was stare at the file in front of him, failing to notice Rhys’s lingering gaze on him before we swiftly left his office.

Three months to do thirty tasks and most of them were downright stupid. Though Azriel had to admit that some of them sounded appealing, he guessed that those would have been either Feyre, Nesta or Elain’s idea. Azriel would prefer if Rhys sent him on a mission, preferably a long one. Then he maybe wouldn’t need to spend every waking moment around happy and in love couples.

With a sigh, Azriel stood to his feet and allowed his shadows to encase him, taking him somewhere else.

***

Y/N stepped out of her apartment and into the cool air, her thick scarf wrapped around her neck. She was tired and had a dull ache in her neck from falling asleep on her sofa at an awkward angle. Though she wouldn’t have changed one moment from her night. Y/N never would have thought that being in the company of the shadowsinger would be pleasant but it had to be one of her favourite Solstice’s. No large spectacle, just two friends– if that is what Y/N could call their relationship– sitting together and talking.

The air was cold and Y/N wrapped her coat tighter around her body. It was a large effort from Y/N to leave her apartment, the only driving force was her needing milk and she regretted not picking it up the previous night when she bumped into Azriel.

She wondered how he was doing. When he woke that morning he seemed deflated and in a rush to leave. Of course he reassured her that it was nothing to do with her. In fact, he told her that the night they had spent just sitting and talking was the best night he had had in a while. When he rushed out that morning, Y/N wanted to call out to him to ask if he wanted to get a coffee or something similar. But as she went to speak the words died on her tongue, it was too much like asking him on a date.

As Y/N stepped away from the door of her apartment, she collided with a firm chest and a familiar scent surrounded her. Strong arms shot out to keep her upright before being retracted away quickly as if touching her had burnt.

“Y/N,” Azriel’s smooth voice chimed through the air around her. He still wore the same clothes he had left in only hours before. This time he held a file in his hand that she knew he didn’t have when he left her apartment.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he apologised. “I didn’t even mean to come back here.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped the smallest amount at Azriel’s revelation. He hadn’t wanted to come back to her. Maybe not asking him for coffee was a good idea.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, trying not to let the disappointment lace her tone. “Did you leave anything inside? I can get it for you.”

“No, no,” Azriel said. “And I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to come back here. I did want to believe me. I just didn’t think I would come back here unconsciously.” There was a slight blush adorning Azriel’s cheeks that made Y/N laugh. His head shot up at the sound.

“What?” He asked, a small smile spreading across his face.

“It’s cute when you are flustered,” Y/N said, which only caused the blush on his cheeks to deepen. “So, what’s up with the file? It looks…official.”

Azriel scoffed quietly. “It’s far from that.”

Azriel thrust the file forward and Y/N took it hesitantly. “Should I even be reading this? I’m not exactly part of this court’s politics.”

“Just read it,” Azriel said, his voice soft.

Y/N opened the file and she immediately started to chuckle. “‘Feed a duck’?”

Azriel groaned. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s funny,” Y/N replied and continued to look down the list. “What exactly is this for?”

“Rhys and the others thought it would be a good idea for me to enjoy myself because they have noticed I have distanced myself lately,” Azriel explained.

Y/N raised her gaze from the paper in front of her to Azriel’s. His eyes bore into hers and she could feel the frustration residing in them.

“I don’t see how any of this is going to help,” Azriel said. “All of these tasks are pointless.”

“Some of them seem fun,” Y/N tried to reason.

“On my own?” Azriel replied. “The whole reason why I’ve been feeling like this is because I feel alone. It is because I have no one to do anything with. Now they have set me tasks that make sure I am on my own.”

“I can do them with you,” Y/N answered quickly, not thinking about Azriel’s possible responses.

A look of surprise briefly flashed across Azriel’s face before it returned to his neutral one. His eyes jumped from Y/N’s to the file in her hands. “You don’t need to do them with me. It’s my mission and I won’t drag you along with me.”

Y/N smiled. “I wouldn’t class feeding the ducks as a mission, Azriel. And most of these seem fun. ‘Have a beach day’? I’ve never been to a beach. Oh, and go to the theatre! I love the theatre! These are fun, Azriel!”

Azriel rolled his eyes, though Y/N could see him trying to fight away a smile. “Would you really do them with me? You only met me last night.”

Y/N shrugged. “Well they seem fun and this is the perfect way for us to get to know one another.”

Azriel looked at the file in her hands and he allowed the smile he had been fighting away to break out on his face. Y/N felt her insides melt at the sight. His smile lit up his whole face. Any feeling that had been present on his face before instantly vanished and was replaced by undeniable happiness.

“Thank you for doing this with me, Y/N,” Azriel said sincerely. “So where should we start?”

Y/N pointed to number seven on the list. “Number seven, get some coffee.”

Azriel smiled before taking the file away from Y/N and folded it away, he offered his arm to Y/N and she took it. It felt natural.

“Lead the way, shadowsinger,” Y/N replied and the two were off down the street. The milk Y/N originally set off to purchase was completely abandoned.

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starsxblazing · 3 months

Note

Im sitting in the dentist office and my brain just thought of an azriel x reader fic / alternate universe where he and Elain have a baby or child and reader is the nanny. Its azriels pov mostly as he falls for reader while elain is still debating about lucien. And reader well shes totally oblivious of azriels attraction towards her.

Oblivious Attraction

You sat in front of your vanity while debating on how exactly you should present yourself. It felt as if the bar was set far too high for you to reach but you never turned down a challenge. There were so many different options but decided on a business casual outfit. You decided on a cobalt blue collared shirt paired black slacks and slip ons. As you began your work to form the loose curls, you ran through every possible word or conversation.

Your resume with great references made you a top choice for employment. Children were your passion and being a nanny was a perfect job for you. The hours were long but it never mattered to you even though it left hardly no time for a social life. That wasn’t a big issue either in your opinion because you felt fulfilled in life.

The drive through the nice neighborhood had you enamored with the beautiful homes with matching or complimentary to the others. It was nicer than you had originally thought and it made it a bit intimidating.

You took a deep breath as you parked your car, muttering prayers to whatever force was above to be on your side.

Azriel watched as Elain flitted around the kitchen to get the remnants of breakfast cleaned up before leaving. An interview with yet another possible nanny would be happening within the next ten minutes and he was ready to get it over with. All three candidates had great resumes as they required but the first two hadn’t felt right in their opinion

It was important to the both of them to have the perfect person to care for their daughter while they worked so having someone that they felt that they could trust was imperative. His work hours were long and whereas the mother of his child’s was shorter, she usually spent her time elsewhere when she got off. It grated a nerve that the female was absent from the home so often but he had stopped complaining.

What was supposed to be a one night stand had turned into weekly occurrences that ended up with her pregnant. For that simple fact alone, he had moved her into his home in hopes that something more would form other than physical attraction. It hadn’t gone as he had hoped but they comfortably coexisted for the sake of their two year old.

He knew that her attention was torn between him and another male, a fact that he had only learned by accidental chance. Even though it hurt a piece of his heart, he always felt as if he couldn’t fault her for it. She deserved more, especially when he wasn’t able to give her the time and effort that she obviously needed.

A knock on the door had him pushing the thought of Elain and Lucien out of his mind, feeling hopeful that their last contestant would be the one. They truly did need the help and time was of the essence. He was shocked when he opened the door, the beauty of you taking his breath away. Their last two prospects had been older but he wasn’t expecting a beautiful female around his age to be standing on his threshold.

“Oh, you’re early!” Elain exclaimed happily with Sophie following close behind. “Hello!”

Azriel glanced at the clock and you were five minutes early. Confidence emitted from every fiber of you, especially when Sophie looked up at you with a smile. His own hope began to cement when the girl’s smile was returned with a gentle one that set the room at ease.

Elain guided you to the couch in the living room where they held their previous interviews. His daughter climbed up beside you, talking the best that she could at her young age. It was something that Sophie hadn’t done with the previous two so Elain and himself waited patiently while watching you engage with her.

“We’re so glad to have you here,” Elain started with a smile. “She seems to like you already.”

“She’s a delight,” you laughed, gazing at the girl momentarily with a tender smile on your face.

“Your resume is impeccable.” He gauged your reaction but your confident expression as you held his gaze and found nothing negative about you. “It is rare to find someone so young with extensive experience and references.”

“I’ve always loved children.” Your voice didn’t shake and you didn’t cower under both of their watchful gazes. “I started babysitting at sixteen and I found my first job as a nanny at eighteen once I graduated.”

“You have extensive education.” Elain scanned through the classes that you had completed in college. “Early childhood education, special needs education, First Aid and CPR certifications, and multiple language classes. You were also in the top five of all of them.”

“All of said classes coincide with your first nanny job.”

He had memorized your entire career timeline that also paired with your education. You still didn’t shrink from the question and he noted the hint of pride in your eyes. If what he was assuming was true, you had every right to feel that way about yourself.

“With my first official nanny job, I took classes online and then night classes for the ones that required me to be physically present.”

“Did that affect your job?” Elain countered, a small frown pulling at her lips.

“Not at all.” You shook your head as if in disbelief that you would be questioned about it. “I loved the two children that I was caring for and it was completely my pleasure to have every moment with them.”

Your answer was so genuine that he knew that calling the parents wouldn’t be needed. He also didn’t need to question your love and passion. Not when his daughter placed herself in your lap in contentment. The air around them was so light and it was a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Do you have any concerns with the cameras within our home?” He watched your reaction carefully to see how you would react. “Some have had concerns about them.”

“Why would I be bothered by that?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “I don’t see why it would ever be a problem for a parent to not be concerned enough about their child’s welfare to check in when a stranger is keeping them.”

To him, that was answer enough for him. Even as Elain continued to ask you questions, he kept his eyes on you with a hint of adoration filling him at the sight of you and his daughter.

Once the interview was over, you spent the rest of the day bonding with Sophie. Elain had left shortly after the interview had wrapped up and you were left alone with Azriel. You knew that he was watching you carefully and you didn’t mind because you would have done the same thing.

“We never did go over all of the requirements for my job,” you started as you sat beside him at the table while Sophie ate her lunch. “I want to be sure that everyone is happy with the work that I do.”

“Well, she will be starting school soon so it would be beneficial to be sure that she is on track with the other children,” he replied thoughtfully. “Along with housework and errands that we are unable to do ourselves when needed.”

“That’s more than reasonable but with the agreed upon salary, I was expecting more,” you mused, more to yourself than him.

“Believe me when I say that with Sophie alone, you will have your hands full,” he chuckled, his hazel eyes shining with amusement.

“I wholeheartedly look forward to it.”

You grinned at him and he only gave a small smile in return. The day was relatively simple and you were relieved that he didn’t constantly hover. He would come into his daughter’s room every so often to see how the both of you were getting along and seemed content.

By the time that you got home, you were exhausted enough that you didn’t bother with anything other than falling into bed.

Azriel had taken the previous day off of work simply to see how you were with his daughter. He was confident that they made the right decision and his daughter listened to you better than she did her own parents most of the time. You appeared a bit hesitant to leave when it was Sophie’s bedtime but left without a fuss.

Two hours had passed after his daughter had been in bed when Elain finally came home. A hint of cologne was on her but he said nothing as usual. He wished that she would make up her mind if she wanted to truly be with him instead of them being in this inbetween state in their relationship. The fact that the mother of his child was still entertaining her ex had once been somewhat of a sore spot that was now numb.

A month passed without any issues with you and Sophie was so smitten to the point that she hardly asked about why her mother always got home so late. He was always so exhausted when he came home but you never failed to have a hot meal waiting for him. It was something that he had never had and your eyes lit up every time that he thanked you. A spot in him warmed every single time that he saw that beautiful smile on your face just as it did seeing you interact with his daughter.

The slow feeling of longing began to form around that time and he got off of work as early as possible whenever he could just to be around you more. You always greeted him warmly in a way that he hadn’t felt from Elain since the first month of their ‘relationship’, leaving him craving more and more each day.

He stopped caring about what hour that Elain came home, enjoying your company more than he ever had hers. Small touches were exchanged every so often, a small brush of his arm against yours in passing or a gentle brush of his fingers over yours. No matter the subtle signs that he tried to give, you seemed completely oblivious.

“How was your day?” you asked as the three of you ate the food that you had prepared that afternoon.

“A bit stressful as usual,” he admitted, adoring the small frown that formed due to the fact that you cared about his well being. “But overall, it went well.”

“I much prefer dealing with children,” you laughed, glancing at Sophie who was focused on eating. “Corporate jobs just don’t sound appealing.”

“They aren’t,” he agreed before nodding to his daughter “It gives her the life that she deserves.”

You hummed in agreement, the sound running through him and causing a small smile on his face that you missed.

You were content with your job and utterly happy that you could do what you loved. Azriel was great company but a spot in you hurt for him when you noticed that he wasn’t used to having food already made for him. You rarely saw Elain and you wondered if she had taken longer hours with her job. The weekends were the only time that all three of you had any time off so you assumed that the mother made up for it then.

It didn’t help though that you were bored during those two days. You were so used to getting up early and arriving at their home at six each morning. By the time that you had spent six months with them, you were still with Azriel and was present to put Sophie to bed yourself while her father caught up on extra work. You couldn’t lie that you loved it because the girl was the best child that you had ever had the pleasure of working with.

“Running late this morning?” she asked Azriel when he opened the door on a Friday morning.

“Just a bit,” he admitted, his voice still laced with sleep while Sophie was crying upstairs.

“Go ahead and get ready.”

You didn’t wait for a response before running towards the girl’s room.

Azriel had stayed up longer than he usually did the night before and he barely had time to throw on his business suit, the tie tied haphazardly around his neck. It had taken his mind a moment to realize why there was a knock on his door so early in the morning. Through his sleep filled brain, the sight of you and then your worried expression over his appearance sent his heart racing. Love was beginning to bloom within him for you but he was never sure if he should express it.

He did as you told him to do and by the time that he was fully ready, Elain was gone to her own job and you had Sophie at the table eating breakfast. It always amazed him how easily you were able to calm his daughter even though Elain and himself always had trouble doing so.

“Do you have time for me to finish making you a proper breakfast?” you asked, looking him up and down.

“No.” He did the same to you, enjoying the sight that was you before him. “I appreciate the offer.”

“Is that everything that I need to accomplish today?”

You pointed to the list that Elain had made the night before. He nodded, feeling somewhat bad that you had more to do than usual today all while doing so with a now three year old in tow. You simply nodded with a smile and he had to force himself to leave his home.

His stormy Friday workday felt as if it dragged by longer than usual. He usually watched the cameras in the home every so often just so he could see you but you were out running errands.. Not only was the normal hours of his work day long but so was the later hours that he had no choice but to stay late.

By the time that he rushed home, he found you asleep on the couch with Sophie curled up contently on your chest. It was a beautiful sight to behold and he didn’t have the heart to disturb either of you. His daughter loved you just as much as he was beginning to. He took a deep breath when his heart began to race when he gently pushed a piece of hair out of your face.

It was yet another form of the gentle touches that were exchanged between the both of you but a part of his heart hurt whenever you began to address him as a friend. He wanted so much more than that but knew that it would be inappropriate. It didn’t stop his longing but he didn’t have the opportunity to ponder long before the front door opened again.

Elain was home early for a change and the close of the door had you shooting up in a panic. Your eyes were wide as you held a still sleeping Sophie to your chest protectively. He didn’t think you had any means of protecting his daughter and yourself but it was admirable either way.

“I am so, so sor-”

“It’s alright.” He gave you a small smile even though your eyes darted between the both of them. “You have had a long day.”

“I still didn’t-”

“It really is okay,” Elain assured, picking Sophie up gently to take her to bed. “Go home and get some rest.”

You nodded and stood on slightly shaky legs before giving him an apologetic smile. He escorted you to the door as he always did and his heart picked up his pace whenever you held his eye contact. The way that you looked at him had him hopeful but he walked to the window to be sure that you got out of his line of sight safely.

He frowned when your headlights came on but instantly went out again and the sound of your car starting didn’t reach his ears. You sat in your car for five minutes in the hard downpour before you finally raced back to his front door where he was waiting for you.

“Car trouble?

“It won’t start,” you whined quietly. “I don’t know anything about cars.”

“Would you like a ride home?”

Surprise filled your face for a moment before you nodded shyly. He had to use all of his willpower to stop the laugh that wanted to leave him and used the excuse of retrieving his keys to doing so. By the time you were sitting in his passenger seat, you were both completely soaked and a pout was on your face.

“Does a little bit of rain bother you?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Sugar melts in the rain,” you quipped and this time he wasn’t able to stop his laugh.

During the ride home, you told him about the busy day that you had while he listened intently. Mental images filled his mind with each story, the ones of you taking his daughter for ice cream being his favorite. Both of your arms were touching on the armrest and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hand around yours. It was a strong testament to his willpower to not do so.

When he pulled up to the home that was smaller than he had imagined, you made no move to instantly jump out. He knew that you enjoyed being around him but he also knew that you were oblivious to how he felt.

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up,” you muttered while leaning up to look out of the windshield.

“According to the report, it’s supposed to be that way for the rest of the night.”

“Well at least I can immediately jump into the shower.”

He chuckled but when you looked at him, he realized that he had moved closer to you out of what felt like instinct. You didn’t break his gaze, even when his eyes darted to your mouth and then back to your eyes. His breath caught in his throat when there were mere inches between your mouths. Once you realized what was happening, you pulled back and jumped out of his vehicle without so much as a goodbye.

It was then that he realized that he was completely and utterly fucked.

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar

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hellodarling1357 · 2 months

Text

Tiny Toes: Part 4 - Cassian x Reader

Finally here with Part 4! I've been in an angsty mood so have struggled with writing anything fluffy but hopefully this works 🥰

Summary: Sleepovers + blanket forts + lots and lots of cuddles

Word Count: 3.3k

You can read the previous part here!

It had been two weeks since telling Ottie that you and Cassian were together, and she had been ecstatic from the news ever since. You were still easing your presence into her day-to-day life, although, given the amount of time you spent with her as her babysitter, it wasn’t much of an adjustment.

Every morning the three of you would have breakfast together, either at your apartment, at Cassian’s house, or, when Cassian had the morning off, you would make your way into Velaris and spend the morning at a cafe followed by a walk through the park of along the river.

You also started joining Cassian at his family dinners and found yourself easily slipping into the group and becoming closer with the Inner Circle. Both Nyx and Ottie were overjoyed at your presence, excited by the prospect of having someone new to play with, especially after Ottie had talked you up so much which made Nyx also want to befriend you. It was like clockwork, the minute you set your fork down, two sets of hands would be pulling you towards the lounge room as they explained what you would be playing that evening. Eventually, the others would filter into the room, Elain happily taking your spot on the floor so you could rejoin Cassian on the couch and curl up against him.

An hour ticked by as Ottie and Nyx continued playing while the rest of you chatted away and shared a bottle or two of wine. Eventually the late night seemed to catch up to Ottie as she made her way over to where you and Cassian sat, reaching up her hands for him to lift her up and settle her on his lap. You smiled as you watched her fight to keep her eyes open then let out a laugh as her little legs stretched out to rest across your lap, leaving her sprawled over the two of you.

“Looks like someone’s ready for bed,” Rhys mused from Feyre’s side, smiling softly at the three of you as everyone took in the scene playing out.

“I think so,” Cassian pushed some of Ottie’s hair away from her face, “what do you think, Otts? Ready to go home?” The room filled with laughter as Ottie violently shook her head whilst letting out a yawn.

“Come on, home time.” But Ottie, apparently not liking what her dad had to say, squirmed in his lap so that she was upright again and then quickly moved over to kneel in your lap, her arms coming up to wrap around you as she hid her face in the crook of your neck. You looked at Cassian, amusement filling your eyes as he let out a sigh.

“She clearly has a new favourite.” Feyre laughed.

“Hmm, apparently she now thinks that if I say no, Y/N is going to say yes,” Cassian shot you a mock look of annoyance, “which isn’t helped by the fact that the two of you keep ganging up on me.”

“Aw, feeling a bit left out, Cassie?” Cassian chucks a cushion at Azriel in response to the taunt, shooting him with a glare that had the Shadowsinger grinning.

“You would be too. They have secrets- See, look at that, they’re whispering.” For at that very moment, Ottie had lifted her head away from your shoulder, leaning up to whisper in your ear, a hand cupped over her mouth to block out the others.

You looked up at the silence that filled the room to find everyone watching the two of you. With a smile you lean down to whisper into Ottie’s ear, making her look around the room before turning back to you with a definitive nod of her head.

Amusement coating your voice, your eyes meet Cassian’s as you announce, “Ottie says she doesn’t want to go home and that we’re staying here forever and ever.” Ottie nods again, giving you a pat on your back for a job well done.

You grin at Cassian as he lets out a groan, ignoring the snickering from the others, “Well, how about we go home now and then next time we can stay forever and ever?” He tries coaxing her away from where she’s hidden herself in the space between your neck and shoulder, one of his hands resting on your back as you shift against him with Ottie still in your arms.

She finally peeks up at him, looking like she’s seconds away from falling asleep against you as she fixes him with a calculating look. “Is Y/N coming with us?”

“Of course, sweetheart. If we leave now I’ll even have time to tuck you into bed before going home. Maybe even read you a bedtime story?” Cassian mouths a silent thank you at your intervention, knowing that with the mood Ottie is currently in, she’s not very likely to want to listen to him.

However, it seems she doesn’t want to listen to you either, or she’s unhappy with what you said, as her lower lip pouts out and tears begin to fall down her face as she holds onto you even tighter.

“Ottie, what’s wrong?” Cassian quietly asks, rubbing a hand down her back.

“Y/N- Y/N never stays,” she says between small sobs, hands balling up as they hold onto you. “She always goes home. I want her to stay.”

Well that had your heartbreaking in two.

You press a kiss to the top of her head, looking at Cassian with a questioning look. The two of you have a silent conversation before Cassian speaks up, “Well, how about Y/N has a sleepover tonight?”

You had been talking about when the best time was for you to start staying over for a few weeks now, it seemed, however, that Ottie wanted to get the ball rolling.

Almost immediately her sobs softened, and she quickly scrambled in your lap so that she could look at the two of you. “Okay,” then she was jumping off the couch, running around the room to give everyone a hug goodbye before racing out of the door.

Startled, you and Cassian blinked at each other before turning to look at the doorway she had just disappeared through.

“I think the two of you just got played,” Rhys laughed as he got out of his seat to give Cassian a pat on the back and you a hug goodbye. Before either of you could answer, Ottie was running back into the room, carrying all three of your coats. Honestly, you were surprised she managed to make it back given how they piled up above her face.

“Come on, it’s home time.” She impatiently repeated Cassian’s words from earlier.

“Alright, we’re coming, we’re coming,”

You finished saying goodbye to everyone as Cassian knelt to help Ottie into her coat, doing up the buttons and pulling a wooly hat over her head to keep the cold out before wrapping a scarf around her neck. Then he was crossing the room to where you stood saying goodbye to Azriel. You let Cassian help you into your coat, smiling softly as he leans back to pull your hair out from where it was caught down your back.

“Ready to go?”

“Yep,” you replied, eyes fluttering shut as Cassian places a soft kiss to your lips.

You frown slightly as you feel him tense up, noting how his eyes scrunched together in confusion. “Ottie,” he starts, turning around to face her from where she stood, basically jumping, in the doorway. “How did you reach our coats? They were hanging on the hook…”

Ottie fixes him with an unimpressed look, clearly not happy with the holdup when she has a sleepover with you to get to. With a roll of her eyes, holding more attitude than what should be allowed for a near-three-year-old, she says “like this.”

Her face contorts in concentration and then she’s flapping her little wings up and up and up. Your mouth falls open, Azriel and Rhys both let our surprised laughs, and Cassian… He is staring at his daughter in shock before racing over to tug her into his arms.

“Ottie… How- How long have you been doing that?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks. Now come on, we have to go.”

“Okay, okay,” He still seemed stunned, a slight panic washing over his features. “How did you learn to do that?”

“I just copied what you do.” Ottie, seemingly done with the conversation, grabbed her dad’s hand and tried to pull him out the door, waving for you to follow.

“Hang on a minute, princess,” Cassian knelt to face her, tucking some hair out of her impatient little face. “Why didn’t you tell me that you started… Ottie, you need to promise me that there will be no more flying by yourself, okay? You could get hurt –”

“But Daddy –”

“At least let me show you how to fly properly, okay? This weekend, the two of us can practice flying, how does that sound?”

Ottie cocked her head as she contemplated his offer before her face broke into a wide grin, all previous signs of sleepiness were long gone. “Okay, but only if Y/N is there too.”

Cassian scoops her into his arms, turning to face you and the rest of his family with a look of exhaustion.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got Y/N now, Cass. She’s going to be a handful, aren’t you Ottie?” Mor teased, swooping in to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’m going to head off now too, want me to winnow you all home?” You gracefully accepted her offer; as much as you loved the feeling of being in Cassian’s arms, the thought of him flying you and Ottie through the freezing winter night air was not something you were looking forward to.

*****

“Daddy?” Ottie drawled once the front door was shut behind you and Mor had disappeared. “Can we please have a hot chocolate?”

“Princess, it’s well past your bedtime. How about tomorrow?”

“But a hot chocolate now would be really nice. Y/N wants one too, don’t you, Y/N?” You squeezed Cassian’s hand, trying to hide your laugh at Ottie using you against him.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m pretty tired… How about we get ready for bed and then I’ll read you a bedtime story?” Ottie grinned up at you as though you were the best person in the world before turning on the spot and running down the hallway, yelling something about being a big girl and brushing her own teeth.

Cassian let out a long sigh as he pulled you tightly against him and buried his head in your hair, your arms eagerly coming up to wrap around him.

“You, my love, are cauldron sent,” You pulled back just enough to be able to reach up on your tiptoes and slant your lips over his. “I’m serious, if it was me saying no to hot chocolate, she would’ve cracked it. But one word from you and she’s running to get ready for bed. I think I might just have to keep you.”

“Hmm,” you murmured against his lips, “I don’t think I have any complaints if you do decide to keep me.”

“Well, isn’t the convenient.” Cassian’s voice was gravelly against your ear, his breath fanning across the sensitive skin of your neck. He caught your lips in another kiss, deepening it with a sweep of his tongue that had you pressing even closer against him. The pitter patter of footsteps had you reluctantly breaking apart, Cassian rolling his head back at the sudden interruption.

“Y/N? Can you please read to me now? I’ve done everything to get ready for bed.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you want to pick out a book? I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute.” She ran off with a grin. You turned to face Cassian, smiling at the sight of him watching Ottie climb the stairs, clad in her pyjamas and tightly holding onto her teddy bear, a soft smile gracing his features.

“She’s a pretty special kid,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, she is,” He bends down to softly kiss you, leaning his forehead against yours as he says, “She used her manners and everything. I think Feyre was right, you’re definitely her favourite…” His words awkwardly trailed off as if he had to suddenly stop himself from saying something that had been on the tip of his tongue. You gave him a questioning look but let it go when he grabbed your hand, with a quick clear of his throat he continued, “Well, we better get up there and read her that story, hey?”

*****

You and Cassian stumbled in the doorway of Ottie’s bedroom as you took in the sight before you. Ottie was in what looked like a nest of blankets and pillows spread out on the floor beside her still made bed.

“What…?”

“You can have my bed, Y/N. I don’t want you to sleep on the floor, you won’t be very comfortable.” The way she was looking up at you with so much excitement and unabashed joy had your heart clenching as you turned to Cassian, amusement lacing his features as he raised his eyebrows at you – this was your situation to navigate and clearly Ottie hadn't realised that you didn't plan on sleeping in her room.

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, Ottie,” you pulled Cassian along with you as you sat down on her bed. “How about you come up here too. That way we’re all comfortable.” Without so much as a second of hesitation, Ottie was scrambling into her bed, settling herself between you and Cassian as she handed you the book she had picked out.

It was a tight fit but somehow the three of you managed to get into a comfortable position that accommodated for both Cassian and Ottie’s wings, as well as Cassian’s bulking frame. You were nestled into Cassian’s side, his arm and wing, wrapped around your shoulders to hold you to him. Ottie was on his lap, curled up against his chest as she faced you, watching with wide eyes as you read to her. Eventually, a soft snore filled the room making you turn to find Ottie fast asleep with her mouth open, drool soaking into Cassian’s shirt as he rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“She asleep?” He quietly asked, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

“Yeah, she is. Snores just like you.” You poked your tongue out at his offended expression before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Let’s stay here for a minute before we head to bed,” he mumbles, head leaning down to rest atop yours, “Don’t want to accidentally wake her.”

You murmur your agreement, feeling your eyes grow heavy as the warmth and comfort and love from the two people beside you help you drift into a peaceful sleep.

*****

Your back is aching, and you have no idea where you are. Blearily cracking your eyes open, you take in the soft light coming through the windows from the rising sun, lighting up the soft pinks of the bedroom you’re in. With a groan, you turn your head and come face-to-face with Cassian’s chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath, his arm wrapped tightly around you.

You’re in Ottie’s room. You clearly both dozed off after she fell asleep and had spent the rest of the night cuddled up on her small bed. It was definitely a sight you would be holding onto: a fully grown Illyrian male, sprawled across a small child’s bed wrapped up in a pink comforter covered in flowers. You might just ask Feyre if she could paint the scene for you, you knew she would at least get a laugh out of it.

Yet, the one thing missing from the scene was Ottie. You sat up, slowly wiggling out of Cassian’s grasp, not wanting to disturb him. You looked down at the pile of blankets Ottie had set up for herself, but there was no sign of her, or of the blankets and pillows she had dragged in. Standing up, you turned back to Cassian and pulled the blankets up around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek, just as he let out a loud snore that sent you into a fit of silent giggles. Quietly shutting the bedroom door behind you, you set off down the stairs in search for the young Illyrian, surely she hadn’t gotten too far?

You didn’t need to look for long. As soon as you entered the living room, a smile spread across your face at the throws that were draped across a huddle of chairs she seemed to have dragged in from the dining room. Kneeling in front of the small opening of Ottie’s blanket fort, you knocked on the floorboards before poking your head inside.

“Hello,” Ottie looks up from her picture book, her teddy bear sitting on her lap as she gives you a sleepy smile. “You’re up early. Can I join you?”

Ottie silently nodded, shifting over a bit to make more room. You smile as she pulls a blanket out and drapes it over your legs before readjusting herself to lean against your side. You sat in silence for a while, Ottie clutching her teddy to her chest as she looked through the pictures in her book while you sat beside her, letting your hands tangle through her curls, lost in thought.

Closing her book with a snap, Ottie turned to face you, before shifting so she could rest her head in your lap, teddy bear still clutched tightly in her hands.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” It had been a late night and was currently very early in the morning, so she was probably just tired, still, you wanted to check all the same.

“Daddy snores,” You laugh, nodding your head in agreement. “Really loudly.”

“Yes, he does, doesn’t here. He’s still up there snoring now.”

“No, he isn’t. And, no, he doesn’t,” Ottie sheepishly looked up at you, letting out a giggle as Cassian’s face appeared in the tent’s entrance. “Well, this is cozy.”

You laugh as Cassian sprawls out on the floor, the upper half of his body fitting inside the small space while his legs stick out of the gap in the blankets.

“Move over, Otts. Sharing is caring and all that.” The husk of his voice sending butterflies through you. “Woke up without my girls and couldn’t get back to sleep.” Ottie wiggled as she made room for Cassian to rest his head in your lap.

He blindly searched for your hand, bringing it up to his lips once he had hold of it before settling it on top of his chest, not once letting go. Then he was turning his head to face Ottie and planting a big kiss on her cheeks that had her letting out a shriek of laughter, “Stop it, Daddy. That tickles.”

You laughed as Cassian proceeded to smush his face against hers, the stubble prickling against her skin before wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her in closer against him. Soothingly rubbing your thumb across Cassian’s hand, you let the other one trail through Ottie’s hair, watching with amusement as they both drifted off to sleep in your lap.

Given the rare moment in which they were both still, and silent, you took the time to properly compare their features, marvelling at the many similarities they shared. You had to hold back a laugh when Cassian shifted slightly as he let out a snore, followed by the sound of Ottie’s, much quieter, snore.

Leaning against the back of the chair that helped prop up the blankets, you continued watching your two favourite people sleeping soundly in your lap, and couldn’t help but think this was something you wanted to get used to.

*****

Part 5

*****

PSA: Cassian was going to say “parent” – “You’re definitely her favourite parent” but caught himself because is it too soon?? What does he even think about it?? What would Y/N even think about it?? It just *almost* slipped out and sends him spiralling!

*****

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#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #feyre acotar #morrigan acotar #dad!cassian #cassian fluff #marley writes

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utterlyotterlyx · 23 days

Note

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

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sirenpearldust · 3 months

Text

Mating bond 2

Notes: grab some tissues

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 738

Warnings: Angst

Pt1

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Azriel had consistently felt fatigued, but the last couple of days robbed him of any vitality.

His body and soul were broken.

A numbness and sense of lifelessness dominated his days.

His family immediately noticed his stark decline. He was a shell of himself, empty.

Morrigan and Cassian attempted to coax him into joining them at the pleasure hall. Rhys recognising his exhaustion, granted him a break, urging him to savor some well-deserved vacation time.

Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie extended multiple invitations to their tea time.

They questioned him why he had ceased to train them.

He would ignore everyone.

Immersing himself in work, he sought solace and attempted to drown out his troubles, striving to forget.

He empathised with Lucien’s despair, he felt guilty.

Despite the strained golden bond in his chest, he couldn’t ignore its presence.

Mates had always been a sensitive topic, a distant dream for him, out of reach.

Witnessing his brothers’ happiness with their mates fueled his jealousy.

In his own delusion, he entertained the idea of three sisters for three brothers, boldly proclaiming that the mother had made a mistake in pairing Elain with Lucien.

He wanted to defy fate until the day he’d met her.

On that heart-wrenching day, his shadows were nervous, radically erratic.

In an attempt to clear his mind, he strolled through a park in Velaris, where he spotted a woman playing with a cat.

As she turned, a sudden silence enveloped him, the world pausing, and his heartbeat turning erratic.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, radiating a glow akin to the Sun, utterly ethereal.

He wanted Feyre to paint her, to capture her on canvas, desiring to preserve her image. He longed to keep this moment eternally etched into his mind, and in his room - a cherished memory for him to love and appreciate.

His once erratic shadows now calmed, humming, and began gravitating towards her.

His Wings spread wide in a display for his female.

Azriel found himself rooted in place, overwhelmed by the immense power of the bond. Profound happiness and contentment settled in him as he realised he had finally found her.

Some shadows nudged him, urging him to move closer to her.

She casually swept her hair over her shoulder and he found himself captivated by her.

He observed her carefree and playful demeanour, playing with the cat.

The warmth of her laughter reached him as he drank it all in.

As she turned around and noticed him, her smile faltered and her eyes widened in horror.

Their souls connected, he felt the terror coursing through the bond, awakening, a primal instinct to protect her.

Shadows multiplied, assuming positions to eliminate any perceived threat, only to realise she was afraid of the singer.

Azriel froze.

“No,” she muttered.

“No! No! No! This can’t be,” she cried, sobbing loudly.

Tears fell as she screamed for him to leave her alone.

Shadows flew towards her, flinching at first, at the unfamiliar feeling on her being, she eventually let them comfort her.

They sang to her, soothing and wiping away her tears.

Azriel stood heartbroken, alone, no shadows in sight.

The pain he felt mirrored his childhood - rejection, loneliness and a sense of being unwanted.

He wondered whether she was rejecting him personally or simply harboured fear of Illyrians.

Tucking his wings tightly against his back, he approached her, his voice softened, “I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

As he spoke, she calmed down and he slowly raised his hand, gently, cupping her cheek.

She leaned in, nuzzling into his hand, not disgusted by his scars. His wings enveloped her, providing the shield from the world.

For a fleeting moment he felt a sense of happiness, thinking they had made some progress. Maybe she just really was afraid of Illyrians, not him.

Rubbing her back, pressing her against him he felt content, fulfilled. He breathed her in, wiped her tears and kissed the crown of her head.

Closing his eyes, he sighed in relief, but then she pushed him away.

“ I can’t - I can’t accept this, I can’t accept this bond.”

His stomach turned. He felt desperate, his world crashed.

“What?”

“I have feelings for someone else.”

Taking a step back to avoid making her afraid, he felt a surge of possessiveness, a buried primal instinct awoke.

He asked, voice cold, “Who is he?”

Who dared to have her heart?

Who dared to take her from him?

She took panicked steps back, and before he could reach her, she winnowed away.

Taglist:

@sidthedollface2

#azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst

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azsazz · 6 days

Text

Dozen Roses & a Six Pack

Small Town!Cassian x Archeron!Sister Reader

Summary: More heartbreak for small town Cassian because I just can't stop. Based off of the song Dozen Roses & a Six Pack by Cole Swindell.

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1,300

_________________________________________

Cassian sighs when he hits the red light on the corner of Main Street.

He stares up at the crimson sign staring at him, taunting him, laughing at him.

He wants to pound his fists against the fucking steering wheel. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near this fucking town right now, not on a Friday night, just getting off of work and waiting for all of the drunks of this shithole town to meander their way down here.

Especially not after last night.

His eyes are gritty with exhaustion, fingers blackened by the oil and dirt of his job, permanently embedded underneath his fingernails. His hair was pulled tightly from his face this morning, but now, after eight hours of hard labor, it’s greasy and messy, falling out from the hair tie barely holding it together. He’s so fucking tired. He hadn’t slept at all last night, stomach twisted with worry and his mind running rampant with thoughts of you.

A pink neon light flickering on in a window to his right catches his attention, ripping his eyes from the stoplight. Flower Shop is written in curly letters, his mine perking up at the idea, calling his name.

When the light turns green he rolls his rusted Bronco through the intersection and pulls it into the ten minute parking spot out front. He cranks the driver’s window up and shuts the engine off, tipping his head back against the seat as the sting returns to his eyes.

This might be his worst idea yet.

It takes a lot more effort than he’d like to lug his body from the car. The streets are quiet for the moment, but they won’t be soon.

He rounds the front of the car, muttering to himself as he makes his way to the door of the shop. “Please don’t be here, please don’t be here—”

The bell jingles as he pulls the door open, stepping inside. The scent of the variety of colorful flowers surrounding him hits him like a truck, thick and heavy in the back of his throat. Pinks, purples, reds, greens…every color he can imagine in different shapes, lengths, and sizes are scattered everywhere. It’s nearly overwhelming. Would be if he didn't know what you liked.

His breath catches in his throat when the young woman working in the shop is called out of the back room by the chime of the bell on the door. His steps falter as he approaches the counter, heart squeezing in his chest in a repeat of the worst pain he’s ever felt in his entire life.

“Hey, Lanie,” he greets, forcing a small smile onto his lips. He wants to turn around and run right out of this fucking shop because looking at Elain Archeron reminds him too much of you.

She offers a gentle smile—one that he doesn’t feel like he deserves—in return. “Hey, Cassian. How are you doing?”

He shrugs a little, swallowing against the tightness of his throat. If he answers it will either be a lie or a beg, so he keeps quiet about that.

Elain offers a knowing look in return. Her big doe eyes are swimming with pity, and Cassian forces his gaze away.

“Can I please have a dozen red, long stemmed roses?” he asks, already reaching for his wallet.

“Sure. I’ll pick out the best ones that we’ve got,” Elain answers, already darting off to the refrigerator where the flowers are kept.

He waits, staring at a spot on the counter, wondering if this is a mistake. He could walk right out that door while Elain is distracted. The bell will alert her of his cowardly departure but he’d already be in his car by then, peeling down the street like hell is at his wheels.

His heart aches in his chest, and he waits.

“How do these look?” She asks when she comes back, holding out the bouquet she’s wrapped and ready to go. There’s a ribbon tied around the stems, holding them all together. It’s your favorite color, too. Of course, Elain would make them look perfect for you, and it’s not the first time she’s helped arrange a bouquet of flowers for you.

“Just perfect,” he answers, though it doesn’t sound as cheerful as he wants. He gives Elain an apologetic look and hands over his card, relieving her of the flowers. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Elain chirps. Always so happy, she is. Why weren’t you ever this content to be in this town? He flinches a little at the thought, biting the inside of his cheek as he returns his credit card to his pocket and signs the receipt. “Hey, Cassian,” she calls when he’s turned away to leave. Cassian looks over his shoulder, at Elain whose eyes have gone hard. He should run, probably. But instead of saying something similar to the way Nesta had chewed him out, she says, “I really think you still have a chance.”

There’s a rock in his throat as he stares her down. The nicest of the four Archeron sisters is rooting for him. Nesta has clearly chosen a side, going to bat for you when she heard the news and ran into Cassian at the grocery store. Feyre’s on the fence about all of it, not wanting to choose a side at all. He’s sure that if Rhysand came back from New York and had faith in him, she would agree.

Cassian nods gratefully at her. He really shouldn’t get his hopes up because he remembers the finality in your tone all too easily from last night. The way you’d had tears running down your face. Your words were shaking but honest and there was no amount of pleading or promises from him that could get you to stay.

The roses burn a hole in the side of his head as he pulls out of the parking spot and back into the street, steadily filling with cars from people getting off work.

Wrapped perfectly, they’re perched in his passenger seat, the seat belt fit snugly around them. That feeling creeps up Cassian’s throat again, the nervous one that has him tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in hopes of releasing the sudden energy his mind’s creating, thinking about you.

He’s almost out of town and then maybe he can relax. He’ll hide up in his apartment, because no one ever comes around that part of town. It’s the perfect solitude.

He stops at the stop sign. On the corner is the local liquor store, sign pinned up in the window reading Coldest Beer in Town. Cassian swallows. He is thirsty, and the beer will only give him the confidence he needs when he inevitably chooses to make that phone call.

Coward, his mind screams, as he pulls into the parking lot. Screaming at him as he picks up a six pack, screaming at him when he pays for it and the bottles clank together when he sets it on his seat and makes his way home.

His mind is still a mess when he sits at his table, staring at the roses and beer, how the roses won’t be enough if you pick up the phone, if you forgive him, and the beer might not be enough, if you don’t.

Finally, Cassian picks up his phone, pressing the only number he has favorited, that little star in the corner reminding him of the relationship that shined so bright before he fucked it all up.

He presses your name, the contact picture updated to one of the most recent ones he can’t stop staring at when he’s alone in his bed at night and all he can think about is you.

Cassian holds his breath as the phone rings.

And rings.

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cass #cass x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #small town cassian #small town cass #cassian angst #cassian acotar

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danikamariewrites · 8 months

Note

Hi would u write something similar to the adhd head anon but with social anxiety instead? Maybe with Eris or Azriel please?

Azriel x reader social anxiety headcanon

Warnings: anxiety

You’re a quite person just like Azriel

The difference is he liked to go out with his brothers to bars and loud places

That wasn’t really your scene

Neither were parties that Rhysand hosted

It took a lot for you to talk to Az when you first met

And it took a lot for Az to gain the courage to ask you out

Your first date was a quiet picnic in the park he planned

You didn’t mind restaurants as long as they weren’t overly crowded, you felt like people were staring at you or judging Azriel for being with you

You talked yourself into going to the annual Starfall party with Az which he was surprised but happy by

It was time to step out of your comfort zone and if you panicked you could cling to Az for the rest of the night

Before you left he gave you a little pep talk since it would also be the first time you were meeting his family

“Just a little warning, they can be a lot. They’re so nice and welcoming but they get over eager with new people. And we can leave any time you want.” You nodded, “Thank you. I’m going to try to tough it out though. Make a friend and all that good stuff.” You smiled up at him and he stroked your hair

Getting to the party you had a little anxiety. Was your dress good enough? Was your makeup ok? Did Azriel want you to meet his family? What if you said the wrong thing?

You clutched Azriel’s hand harder as he pulled you through the crowd to the back yard where his brothers were

You didn’t know Azriel was warning them about your social anxiety/nerves in his mind specifically begging Cassian to be kind to you

As you approached them you stood a little behind Azriel but forced yourself to make eye contact with the very very tall high lord and general

They we’re both very kind in welcoming you to the party, happy that you were there etc.

Then you met Amren who scared you a little, Nesta and Elain who were so sweet to you

You and Elain really connected bc she was a pro at navigating social events but was a little nervous with a new crowd like this

Then you finally met Feyre. She was so not what you expected. She was kind and graceful and you wish you had her confidence

As the night got a little rowdier after the stars started to fall that’s when your anxiety hit you full force

You don’t what set you off but you started squeezing Azriel’s arm

Your heart was racing and your breathing turned shallow

Az noticed immediately and brought you upstairs to his room at the River House

“Hey it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here with you.” He cooed at you while pulling you onto his lap

He wrapped his wings around to provide a soothing darkness

“Take deep breaths with me ok .” You nodded and started to match his breathing

Once you calmed down you were exhausted

Azriel pulled back from you, “Do you want to just sleep here tonight?”

You got out a small ‘yeah’ through a yawn

Az gave you one of his shirts and helped you take your makeup off

Once you were both settled Azriel pulled you on to his chest and you snuggled into him

He rubbed your back as your eyes got heavy and sleep took you under

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel x you

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thebetawolfgirl · 5 months

Text

Bonding Time pt9

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Smut and then some more smut!

A/N: A bit later than I wanted to post it, but it’s been nonstop today!

Bonding Time part 9

Y/n looked at her outfit in the mirror and sighed as Timmy watched from the bed, she quickly stripped and tossed the dress aside grabbing another one.

‘Baby, you’ve tried eight dresses on so far, just pick one. You will look beautiful no matter what you wear.’

‘I don’t actually know why I’m so stressed out about this. We’ve met with mom’s friends hundreds of times-‘

‘But not as a couple, last time you saw them we were at each other’s throats, literally. Anyway, who cares what your mom’s friends think? None of them can judge.’

‘One of them is Sarah’s mother, Timmy! And Stacey’s mom will be there too you know.’

Timmy rolled his eyes lighting a cigarette. ‘Imagine my fear! I broke it off with Stacey weeks ago. She’ll be with her next plaything already. Not my problem if she hasn’t told her mother yet.’

Y/n finally settled on a blood red halter dress and walked over to him pinching his smoke and putting it out, before he pulled her on top of him kissing her.

‘That’s a lovely dress did someone buy it for you?’ He asked smirking wrapping his arms around her.

She smirked back. ‘Yes my boyfriend did.’

‘Ahh he has good taste.’ He smiled and sat up with her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist.

‘We do this today and that’s us. We’re done with the sneaking around and keeping secrets, we can be ourselves.’

‘That will be nice. Just Sarah to deal with then.’

She played with the buttons of his shirt watching him as he rolled his eyes.

‘Fuck her, she’s insignificant now. If she has an issue after all this time she can complain about it to her therapist. And none of that family can judge, her mother was her father’s apprentice and young assistant who he knocked up while he was still married to his first wife.’

Y/n sighed nodding and pecked his lips gently smiling before moving off him.

‘We need to get going, we don’t want to be late.’

‘I’m going to show you off to everyone. I don’t give a fuck who doesn’t like it. All those old ladies can all go to hell. Except Elaine, of course.’ He smiled standing up and kissed her hand.

She smiled back and left the apartment together.

When they arrived at the restaurant everyone was already seated and were waiting for them before ordering, y/n saw Sarah and Emma were both there and chose to ignore her and squeezed Timmy’s hand for support.

She knew he was curious as to why they were both there but Stacey was nowhere to be seen.

Y/n also knew that Timmy would now be full on with his affection just to rub it in Sarah’s face and she had no issue with that.

Y/n looked around at the surprised faces of her mother’s friends and smiled.

‘Are we ordering then? I’m starving!’

She states grabbing a menu and sharing it with Timmy.

‘Is that all you have to say?’ Sarah blurted out.

‘Are you really going to make a scene, therefore embarrassing your mother in front of all her friends in the middle of a busy restaurant Sarah?’

Sarah stopped and looked over at her mother who was glaring. Y/n leaned over to Sarah’s mother smiling ‘By the way Mrs Winston, I forgot to say when I came in, I love your stole, is it new?’

‘Oh yes, thank you dear for noticing. Mr Winston bought it for me while he was in Italy last month.’

‘It’s so beautiful. It’s so lovely to have someone who spoils you with such wonderful gifts isn’t it?’

She looks over smiling at Timmy, ‘Timmy is always spoiling with lovely things, just last week he surprised me by taking me on a boat ride, with a beautiful view of the entire city. Then we had a picnic in Central park. He’s always doing things like that for me.’

‘Well that’s all that matters y/n, finding someone who cherishes and respects you and treats you like royalty is very important.’ Mrs Winston smiled and patted y/n’s hand as her daughter looked on shocked ‘Mom their parents are MARRIED! It’s wrong!’

‘Love is wrong, Sarah?’ She challenged her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

‘You know, dear if you spent a little less time being so interested in everyone else’s business and began living your own life, you could find a love like theirs. You could find a little bit of happiness of your own.’

Sarah looked down and crossed her arms across her chest now in a huff.

Y/n rolled her eyes at her friend’s childishness and immaturity as the food was set down in front of them.

The fact that Mrs Winston who was the most judgemental woman in her mother’s circle was accepting of them was a huge thing, so y/n relaxed and enjoyed her meal.

Timmy lay his hand on y/n’s leg when the first course was finished and raised it up higher slightly under the hem of her dress.

‘Forgive me, but can someone show me to the little boy’s room?’

Y/n wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood up,

‘I’ll show you, I need to reapply my lipstick anyway.’

She smiled at everyone as she led Timmy to the restrooms, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her into another room off to the side and shoved her against the wall attacking her neck and slid his fingers up her dress.

She gasped loudly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before pulling him up crushing her lips against his in a hungry kiss, he ran his hands up her thighs and grabbed her ass before pulling her underwear off her as she worked on undoing his belt and pants and shoving them down his legs as he picked her up by her thighs and carried her over to a nearby desk making sure not to trip over his pants around his ankles and lay her down breaking the kiss before burying himself balls deep into her already soaking folds.

She gasps and bit her lip to keep from screaming and dug her nails into the desk underneath her, as she felt him going deep repeatedly driving into her hard enough her entire body rocked against his thrusts.

‘T-Timmy don’t s-stop!’ She stammered panting. She reached up and grabbed his shirt pulling him down and kissed him hard as he tucked his arm under her back and ground his hips against hers before pulling her up to sit on the edge of the desk and grabbed her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved his mouth down her throat pulling her closer against him as he continued to slam his dick into her over and over again.

They fell back together against the table with a dull thud and came in a powerful orgasm together clinging to each other as he buried his face against her neck his hot breath panting against her skin. He lightly dragged his nails down her back leaving light scratch marks on her skin.

She slid her hand up his back under his shirt feeling the damp skin and droplets of sweat rolling down, he hissed against her ear and trails his tongue up her neck before nipping the shell of her ear. She shivered against him catching her breath and wrapped her legs around his waist resting her feet against the edge of the desk as he left wet open mouth kissed along her jaw before reaching her lips and pushed his tongue inside her mouth.

She gripped his jaw and returned the kiss hungrily, running her fingers through his curls.

They broke apart and he helped her up and off the desk before fixing himself quickly, as she fixed her make up and hair, she was looking for her underwear when she saw him with them in his mouth between his teeth looking at her with her devilish gleam in his eye.

She walked over and tried to grab them back but he moved his head away and instead shoved them in his back pocket smirking.

‘You can’t be serious? Timmy give them to me.’ She looked at him shocked as he walked towards the door, she followed him and caught up with him before he could reach for the handle and blocked the door before grabbing him opening his top button and biting down hard on his skin near his collarbone, making him hiss and release a squeak of surprise before he fell against her his forehead against the door behind her as she continued to leave her mark on him.

She was going to be the death of him, he was now completely convinced of it. She was the only woman in this world who could bite him and he became a puddle worth absolutely nothing. She was more addicting than an Class A drug.

In fact who needed Heroin when she bit him that way, she turned his head and kissed him firmly.

She pulled away and opened the door smirking before turning away as he fixed his collar with trembling hands and followed her fixing his hair.

They returned to the table and no one was none the wiser about where they were. In fact when Timmy sat down the women were talking about the latest fashion on the rails right now and Sarah must’ve left early.

Afterwards when they were heading home Timmy wanted to take her back to his where they would have no unwanted visitors and he could have her all to himself tonight.

‘Ok, it would be actually nice to be together without people letting themselves into my apartment as if they live there.’

So they went to his apartment and the moment he got in he had her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom. ‘I want you again!’

He tossed her onto the bed and flipped her onto her stomach and untied her dress from the back before leaning down and biting her shoulder blade making her gasp, she sat up and turned to him grabbing his shirt ripping it open hearing the buttons tear of and scatter everywhere. He grabbed her by her throat before tossing her backwards and removed her dress in one sweep throwing it on the floor and undressed himself, climbing over her.

She ran her fingers up his chest lightly coming to his bite mark and pressing her fingertip against it firmly, making him hiss before pushing into her slowly, making her eyes roll back. He groaned watching her come undone, and began thrusting into her as she reached for him to hold him against her. He melted into her arms his breathing becoming laboured as she held onto him while he thrust into her.

She gasps audibly against his shoulder as she ran her hands down his sides and gripped his hips to signal him to go harder.

She gripped his hips digging her nails into his flesh as he rut in harder than ever, burying his face further against her neck. She knew his waist and hips would be covered in bruises from her fingertips but she had never had him go this deep or hard before.

She ran her hands up his back and dug her nails into his skin scratching him as she panted against his shoulder before leaning down and ran her tongue over his bite mark and he groaned against her and slammed faster into her before grabbing her waist shoving her further up the mattress and flipping them pulling her on top of him without pulling out of her and made her ride him.

She pushed her hands against his chest and rocked against him hard causing the bed to rock against the back wall, as he gripped her waist tightly groaning before he pulled her down and kissed her hard as she rode him as hard as she could.

This was the second time they had gone this intense before, Timmy had rode her so hard today people would definitely see her nail marks on that desk, now she was riding him into the mattress where the bed was moving on it’s own and they both knew the wall behind the bed would be chipped and/or scraped.

It was the fact that people knew now, they wouldn’t need to hide anymore and they could walk around like a proper couple that got them crazy. They came in another earth shattering orgasm panting each other’s names over and over, her hair was sticking to her skin as they tried to catch their breathes, he pulled her up against him and bit down on her neck hard hearing her gasp audibly and grip his hair.

‘Argh! T-Tim.’ He flipped them onto their side and sucked her neck hard making sure to leave a mark, before letting go and kissing up her jawline as she ran her fingers through his curls massaging his scalp, causing him to nuzzle her neck.

‘Y/n.’ He whispers her name like a prayer as he rubs his hands over her back, she pulls on his curls gently causing him to moan her name again. They pulled apart slightly and looked at each other in the dark bedroom before he rolled them letting her lay on her stomach and crawling to lay on her back and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Everyone knew now. Well everyone that was important. They no longer needed to hide. Both their parents new, y/n’s mother’s friends knew, they hadn’t heard anything from Emma but they weren’t too worried about it. Sarah didn’t approve still but they didn’t care about her.

Now it was their own friends group, all they had to do was go ‘public’ so to speak. But this was a whole new adventure they couldn’t wait to explore together.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

@mel-vaz

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet smut #timothee icons #timmy fanfics #smut smut smut

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vilsoo · 2 years

Text

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⚠︎ beware that event may be too intense for parkland guests and is NOT recommended for minors. horrorland will explore darker and extreme contents that may be triggering. ⚠︎

‎ VIEW PARKLANDS (KINKTOBER MASTERLIST) ↓

SLAUGHTERVILLE FRIDAYS 🪓 horrorland's number one favorite parkland! prepare for hordes of horror with some of our classic slashers! a character will be headcanoned as a gruesome villian/slasher from classic horror movie franchises.

OCTOBER 7TH: ❝ BRITISH PSYCHO ❞ ➥ starring WILLIAM AFTON (fnaf) as PATRICK BATEMAN

“did you know i’m utterly insane?”

⚠︎ TW: secretary x boss, fear play, age gap (reader is 29, william is 47) slight misogyny, dubcon, coercion, emotional manipulation, sadism, mentions of murder, throat fucking, disturbing sketches/pictures.

OCTOBER 14TH: ❝ SLASHER SLUT ❞ ➥ starring REINER BRAUN (aot) as JASON VOORHEES

“no one will find you here...”

⚠︎ TW: kidnapping, dubcon, semi public sex, strappado position, rope bondage, pantygag, manhandling, creampie, dumbification, mind break, throat fucking, mask kink, impact play.

OCTOBER 28TH: ❝ WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER? ❞ ➥ starring EREN JAEGER (aot) as GHOSTFACE

“hang up on me again, i’ll gut you like a fish.”

⚠︎ TW: home invasion, chase scene, dubcon, yandere, slight stalking, phone sex, jealousy, implied infidelity, blackmailing, slight knife play, and some plot twists.

S&H CITY SATURDAYS🍷a mysterious city bound to corruption, sin, and immorality known as the devil’s playground. these dark streets beholds the prurient reigns of terror that which may also arouse parkland guests…

OCTOBER 8TH: ❝ LUST IN THE GRAVEYARD ❞ ➥ starring NANAMI KENTO (jjk)

“i couldn’t stop staring at you all through the eulogy…”

⚠︎ cw: established relationship, bondage with silk tie, voyeurism (spirits), sadism, masochism, knifeplay, cunnilingus, public sex, mating press, breeding, dark obsession, gothic romance, mentions of killing.

OCTOBER 15TH: ❝ 7 MINUTES IN HELL ❞ ➥ starring GETO SUGURU (jjk)

“my poor, innocent little lamb...”

⚠︎ TW: noncon → dubcon, sacrilege, blasphemy, rough demonic sex, stalking, breeding, impregnating, religious guilt, betrayal, impersonation, confessional booth sex, degradation, sadism

OCTOBER 22ND: ❝ FLIRT WITH DEATH ❞ ➥ starring GOJO SATORU (jjk)

“you should know better than to glorify your idols…”

⚠︎ TW: groupie, noncon, intoxication, betrayal, psychotic gojo, fame glorification, ritual, drugging, degradation, teared clothing, brutal murder, gore.

HALLOWEEN WEEKEND🩸feed your fear as the thirst for blood, flesh, and lust terrorize the handsome men in town! such vastly evil sensuality of our iconic maneaters and femme fatales like jennifer check, vampirella, and elaine parks!

OCTOBER 29TH: ❝ MY GIRLFRIEND IS A SUCCUBUS! ❞ ➥ starring MICHAEL AFTON (fnaf)

“hell is a teenage girl.”

⚠︎ cw: established relationship, malewife himbo bf/girlboss demon gf dynamic, revenge, graphic murder scenes, bloody sex, edging, handjob, tentacle bondage, msub michael, mommy kink, face sitting, 69.

OCTOBER 30TH: ❝ SEASON OF THE WITCH ❞ ➥ starring JEAN KIRSTEIN (aot)

“men are like children.”

⚠︎ cw: witch disguised as sex therapist, love and sex spells, bewitched jean, witchcraft, seduction, mdom → msub, hallucinogenic herbs, hopeless romantic, incantations, eventual smut, hypnotism, murder scene.

OCTOBER 31ST: ❝ LUST AT FIRST BITE ❞ ➥ starring TOJI FUSHIGURO (jjk)

“darling, i’m already in your veins.”

⚠︎ cw: vampire hunter toji fushiguro, enemies to lovers, bloodplay, predator/prey dynamic, dubcon → consensual, msub → mdom, sloppy foreplay, rough → soft sex, killing threats, neck biting, marking, hypnosis.

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © . please do not steal or plagiarize my kinktober prompts/works/layouts. i do not allow translations. reposting any of my works outside tumblr that minors can access is strictly prohibited.

#( 🩸 ) — horrorland.#kinktober 2022 #jujutsu kaisen smut #fnaf smut #attack on titan smut #happy halloween #slasher smut #i literally couldnt wait to publish this #so ready for october this year

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starcrossedreaders · 1 year

Text

RootBeer Floats

Azriel x Reader

Author’s note: Here is part three for you feins. If you have not read part I or part II I highly suggest you do. Thank you for all of the support, enjoy! NOT PROOF READ

Laying in bed and questioning my choice of major is not how I planned to spend my Saturday night. Mor was out on a date with her girlfriend and wouldn’t be home till tomorrow, so like any good college student I decided to take this opportunity to work on this paper. Only for me to fail immensely at getting anything done, my eye’s were becoming dry despite the glasses I put on hours before, my room was too stuffy, and the silence was too loud. One more key stroke and I would actually pull my hair out. I let out an sigh as my head fell into hands. The base of my palms rubbed at my eyes until I was seeing white, I only lifted my head up because I heard my phone vibrate twice. Who would dare to send me a snap this hour? Checking my phone, Cassian had sent a video to a group chat that consisted of Me, Mor, Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Amren, Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian. Over the past 3 weeks Mor’s friend group had accepted me with open arms, Nesta and I talk about the mass amounts of books we need to read or had read. Feyre had invited me to walk around a few art exhibits our school had to offer. Rhysand had asked for my help with a business venture. Cassian and I had sat in a parking lot late at night, eating greasy fast food and talked shit. I have yet to met Elain, and the last time Az and I even spoke was their last game the other day.

Me: Congrats on the great season! You guys had a killer last game, be safe partying tonight.

Azriel : Thanks, will do.

Yea, I still cringe thinking about it. I don’t really understand why he is actively avoiding me. Maybe it’s because of the captain situation, or maybe I’m being over bearing? I fall back onto my bed sprawling out and sigh, “Men, so complicated.” I shake my head as I lift my phone to my face to watch Cassian’s video.

“I swear to god if I don’t get written by a female I give up on life,” His face was very close to the camera in unrelenting focus. The filter stopped spinning and Cassian let out the loudest gasp known to man.

“The most chronically online person you know my ass,” He clicked his tongue before he stopped the video. Soon Mor sent a video back, “No no, that is surprisingly very accurate,” Cassian only sent a picture with him using a vulgure gesture captioned ‘Rude ass’.

I laugh a little, happy that I could be apart of this chaos. I scrolled through the different social media apps for a little. It was only till my stomach growled did I get out of bed. Shuffling to the kitchen I looked at the clock to see the time.

10:00

Opening the fridge to find food was utter failure as Mor, once again, forgot it was her turn to buy groceries. I’ll have to get on her about that once again. Going back to my room I threw on a hoodie, slipped on some shoes, grabbed my keys and left the shared apartment. Double checking the door was locked I made my way to the elevator.

On the walk there humming the song stuck in my head, a flash of red hair crossed my vision before his voice filled the hall way.

“Y/N, wait up,” He did a little a jog to catch up.

“Lucien Hey, what are you up to?” Lucien. The guy next door, he was quite handsome, super nice, a such a flirt. His long auburn hair was tied back showing off his sharp features while his wired frame glasses hid the full beauty of his golden eyes.

“Just getting dinner. What about you?” He shrugged his shoulders a little.

“I’m actually off to do the same thing,” I smile up at him.

“Well then, care to join me? I could never let such a pretty girl eat alone,” He offered his arm to me with a slight smirk on his lips.

“And I thought romance was dead. I would love to join you,” I hook my arm on to his and he whisked us away.

On the car ride soft music played in the back ground while we tried to come to a agreement of what to eat.

“What about that one diner that is retro, I heard their milkshakes are pretty good,” Lucien quickly looked my way to gage my opinion.

“Sure why not, I could eat a burger right now,”

“Great, me too.” He laughs a little bit as he drives towards our agreed location.

When arriving Lucien was quick to get out of the car to open my door. When he did he offered his hand and bowed a little bit, “M’lady,” I laughed a little as I grabbed his hand and stood out of his car. I was quick to drop his hand when we stepped foot in the restaurant. We were quick to be seated in a booth near a window. Upon sitting down a waiter that looks like they are on their last straw drops two menus on the table. After a few moments of silences Lucien speaks up, “What do you plan on getting?”

I took one last scan before I answered, “hmm probably a burger with a rootbeer float.” I drop the menu from my face to be greeted with a smiling Lucien.

“Rootbeer float huh?”

“Of course, personally I believe they are superior to milkshakes, and you cannot change my mind,” I laugh a little upon seeing Lucien's betrayed look.

“How could say such a thing!” He gasps and puts his heart on his chest, We both let out laughs that were a little too loud for the quite diner.

The laughing was cut short when the waiter came to take our orders. Falling in the small talk about school, life, friends, and work led into an easy way to pass time. Small shared laughs and understanding nods kept the conversation flowing before a small feminine voice floated through the air. “Lucien?”

Lucien was quick to lift his head up from our conversation, “Elain?” curiosity dripped from her name.

“Oh my gosh Hi, how are you?” She was quick to slide into the seat next him.

“I’m...good. How about you? What are you doing out this late?” He turned his whole body to face her and gave me a side glance that seemed to say: ‘I’m just as confused.’

She waved her hand lazily, “Az and I were meeting for a late dinner and I got here before him. Do you mind if I wait with you guys? Better yet, we should just all eat together!” How she was this chipperly at 10:30 at night was beyond me. What really irked me was the fact that she is supposed to be here with Azriel. This is why he was so standoffish, this beyond pretty girl in front of me, who was flirting with Lucien. What a good date. I cross my arms and scoff a little at the fact. This does not go unnoticed by the red hair across from me.

“Elain, have you met Y/N yet?” she stopped her conversation about her floriculture class and turned her head towards me. She looked me up at down.

“Nice to meet you,” she turned back to Lucien before I could even reply. Lucien gave me a apologetic look before the bell above the door rang. Elain looked towards the door and started to wave franticly. I could only hear to foot steps of doom as he walked closer to our table.

“Azriel hey, I saw Lucien here so I figured we could all eat together,” ouch. He just nods his head a slides into the seat next to me. His scent was heavenly and left me light headed. Cedar and whisky, it had me squeezing my thighs together.

“What’s up man,” Lucien and Azriel did the normal guy handshake.

“Not much, what about you?” Az leaned back and laid his arm on the back of the booth.

“Not much either, congrats on the season though, you guys kicked ass,” Lucien leaned back as well.

“Thanks man,” Conversation was cut short when the waiter arrived with our food and took the others orders. I smiled when the rootbeer float was sat in front of me. I was quick to take a sip, gods it was so good.

“You know those are bad for you right?” I’m going to lose my shit.

“Yes Elain I do, but quite frankly I do not care,” I smiled at her before I picked up a fry.

“Geez no need to be mean, I was just saying,” She rolled her before she slumped back in her seat.

“I’ve never had a rootbeer float before,” Azriel looked my way with a sheepish smile.

“You’re joking?!”

“Nope,” He popped the ‘p’ while he shook his head

“Where was your childhood?” I was quick to steal the straw that Lucien left behind, unwrapped it and shoved it in the sugary drink. I pushed it towards him.

“Try,” He gave me a look that asked ‘are you sure?’ I only answered by pushing it closer to him.

He smiled and his grab the straw between his pointer finger and thumb and wrapped his soft, plump lips around it. He sucked lightly his Adams apple bobbing with each swallow. Gods, my thighs squished together, he was clueless to what he was doing and it made it all more painful that Elain and Lucien were sitting right across from us. He soon pulled back from the straw and time seemed to go back to normal.

“Soooo, whadya think?” He licked the remaining drink from his lips as he thought about it.

“That.... was the best drink I have had,” He smilled a little bit as he looked at me.

“Seriously?!?!”

“Yes seriously,” I smiled back.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Azriel

That was the worst possible drink I have ever had. I would never tell her that, I mean look at how happy she looks. The smile adoring her face with the slight tint on her cheeks made her all the more beautiful. If I was being honest I rather be anywhere but here right now, Elain was persistent to go out for dinner, which ruined my whole schedule for the day. Sleep in, eat breakfast, go to the gym, study, sleep. Simple, but much needed. Ever since the kiss with Y/N Elain has been all over me, it was smothering. It was bad before Y/N, but now? I can’t even pull up my phone without her wondering who I’m texting. I had also just learned that she had been replying to Y/N texts, or deleting the notifications. I’m trapped and I don’t know what to do.

Elain and I were just friends with benefits nothing more nothing less. We went to each other warm our beds, but now? She’s a parasite and she’s making me sick.

Dinner was finished quickly before we were kicked out. Standing out in the parking lot we all bid our goodbyes Y/N being the last to say goodnight.

“Goodnight Az, it was nice seeing you again,” She gave me was quick hug. Her shampoo scent floating to my nose, strawberries. She was so divine. We pulled apart unfortunately and she turned to walk towards Lucien's car. Before she could go far I lunged for her arm.

“I- wait-,” She turned around and I let go her arm. What. The. Fuck. Am. I .Doing. The look of patience sent my heart racing.

“Would... uh, would you maybe like hang out sometime soon?” I have never fumbled over my words, but I have also never seen her light up the way she just.

“I would love to,”

“Great, I’ll text you,”

“Goodnight Az.”

“Night Y/N.”

part IV

Taglist:

@icey--stars @marigold-morelli

#azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #cold kiss #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar modern au #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

To Hec and Back

Pairing: Hangman x Reader Call Sign Hecate

Warnings: Language, drinking, allusions to Smut, childhood trauma. Minors DNI 18+

Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Part 9

You were staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room. You and Jake had spent two glorious days tangled up in each other. But reality had set in. The morning sun peaking through the curtains severed as a reminder to the harsh reality that awaited the two of you. Jake was still sleeping. It wasn't quite eight in the morning, but you had to be checked out by noon.

To make matters worse—well—maybe worse wasn't the best word. To further complicate things, Jake's mother had insisted on taking you wedding dress shopping. It wasn't that you were afraid to go. You were just nervous. Jake was dropping you off at the bridal salon at twelve thirty. You sighed.

"Stop thinking so loud." Jake grumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He rolled onto his back and took you with him, pressing you close. His fingers trailed through your hair.

"You don't have to go shopping with my mom and Charli and Dorothea if you don't want to." He it was like he could read your mind. "I know, but I want to." You told him.

"Okay, if you change your mind, let me know, and I will tell her." He says, smiling at you. "I guess we should get up and shower and get ready to go back to the real world." Jake shrugged.

"Five more minutes. Then we can, " you groaned.

.............................

After taking a longer than necessary shower together, Jake packed up your things while you got ready for the day. You opted for a simple black and while dress and a pair of sandals. You put your hair up into a ponytail and added some light makeup. Soon, the two of you were driving into town.

Jake pulled into a parking spot along the street, but just as he was about to get out to get your door, he froze.

"What the hell?" He blurted. You followed his eyes to see what he was talking about. You held your breath when you saw. Standing there in front of the store, with Elaine, Charli, and Dororthea, was the last person you expected to see—Savannah.

"Absolutely not!" Jake protested as he hastily unbuckled. He was about to get out and give his older sister a piece of his mind.

"Jakey." You breathed out, placing a hand on his arm. "Don't." You tried to soothe him. "I'll be okay. If she gets out of hand, I'm sure Charli would be more than happy to slap her again." You laughed.

He paused for a moment, still not totally calm.

"Fine. But if she so much as makes one tear fall from your eyes, she's had it." He grumbles before getting out and opening your door. He helps you down from the truck, and the two of you walk arm and arm to the waiting Seresin women—a group that you are soon to be a part of.

Everyone greets you. Charli, Elaine, and Grammy Seresin all hug you. Savannah extends a polite hello. The five of you walk in as Jake heads back home.

Inside the five of you are taken to a private room where you are given champagne. A stylist asks you about what your vision is for your wedding dress, and you aren't really sure. They smile at you and tell you it's not a problem, and they can figure it out.

Next comes the question of the budget for the dress. You had already told yourself that your limit was no more than eight hundred dollars. Surely you could find something you liked. You were sure Savannah's wedding dress had cost double if not triple that price after seeing some of the photos of it in albums, but you didn't come from money. You couldn't afford something that expensive. This eight hundred was pushing it.

You were just about to tell the stylist when Elaine spoke up. "Five thousand is the budget for the dress." She told them. Your eyes went wide.

"Elaine, not to be rude, but I can't afford that. I'd like to stay somewhere in the neighborhood of eight hundred please." You informed them.

"No,no." Elaine began politely. "I'm paying for the dress. I bought Savannah's dress, and I'll eventually buy one for Charli, so it's only fair that I buy one for my newest daughter." She tells you. Her words bring tears to your eyes. You'd never had a family before, and now suddenly you did.

"Elaine—really, you don't—" She cuts you off before you can finish.

She grabs your hands and wipes a tear from your cheek. "I absolutely do have to." She smiles again. You compose yourself just enough to follow the stylist to the fitting room, while another one leads the group to a viewing area with mirrors.

You spend the better part of an hour and a half trying on dresses, but none of them feel like the one. You learned that you loved lace but weren't a huge fan of beading. You discover that you loved ball gowns, but you had to have something with straps or sleeves.

After trying on what felt like a hundred dresses, you were about ready to give up. Every single gown in every shade of white imaginable that you had tried on made you feel like an imposter. You were some stark white or ivory or eggshell angel. You weren't the picture of perfection, and that's what these dresses conveyed.

You sat down in a chair and sighed. Soon, the stylist came in with another dress and a big smile on her face. The garment bag was black, so you couldn't see what it looked like.

"So, Elaine tells me you're a Naval aviator, and your callsign is Hecate. Love that. I'm a huge fan of Greek mythology, and I've always loved how Hecate is represented as this light within the darkness. So, with that in mind, I think I know why you haven't found the dress yet, but I think this one is it. Do me a favor and close your eyes. I want to see your reaction when you see yourself in it for the first time." The stylist tells you.

You oblige her as she helps you in the dress. "Okay—open!" She sqeals.

You open your eyes, and your voice catches in your throat. You look into the mirror and take in the dress.

It's a ball gown with a shimmer in the shirt. It has beautiful off the shoulder sleeves. But the best part of it, it's the black lace overlay on the bodice. It's breathtaking. A dress fit for Hecate herself.

"You love it, don't you?" She asks as you tear up. You nod your head. "Great! Let's go show everyone!" As you walk to the room, she makes sure everyone has their eyes closed. She helps you onto the pedestal and fans out the train.

She steps down and tells everyone to open their eyes. You hear the collective gasp from them. Everyone, even Savannah is smiling at you. Elaine and Dorothea have tears in their eyes.

"Oh, darling, it's perfect!" Elaine claps her hands. Everyone seems to agree.

"Actually—" Savannah beings. All eyes turn to her. You look at Charli and can tell she is ready to attack.

"I think it's missing one thing." Savannah states as she rummaged through her large tote and pulls out a box. The other Seresin women seem to know exactly what it is. You are too stunned to say anything.

Savannah carefully opens the box and unwraps the tissue paper. You catch a glimpse of tulle and lace.

She takes it out of the box and walks up to you.

"Close" She says. You close your eyes. You feel her place something in your hair. She takes a few moments to arrange it before stepping down.

"And—open." She tells you.

For the second time today, you're speechless. You recognize the item immediately. You'd seen it in her wedding photos and in the framed one of Jake's parents that sat on the mantel of their fireplace.

It was a cathedral length veil with lace detailing. It matched your dress perfectly.

"Great Grandman Seresin wore this on her wedding day. Then Grammy, then Mom, and then me. One day, Charli will get to wear it—" Savannah explains.

"So it only makes sense that the next Mrs. Seresin gets to wear it. It can be your something old and your something borrowed." She smiles at you.

You don't know what to say.

"Hecate—what I did to you—what I said—it was awful of me. I shouldn't have done that. I know JJ thinks I hate him, but I don't. He's my baby brother, and I just want him to be happy. I've seen girls use him before, break his heart into a million little pieces, and I didn't want that to happen again. But I can tell you love him. And he loves you. You don't have to accept my apology now. Heck, you may never, but I want you to know that I am truly sorry." Savannah tells you earnestly.

You're feeling so many things right now. Savannah's words have touched you. While it may take you some time to trust her fully, you can tell she means every word.

Without thinking, you reach out and pull her in for a tearful hug.

"I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment, but I have to ask if you are saying yes to this dress?" The stylist asks you.

"Yes!" You choke out as everyone cheers for you.

Elaine quickly goes to the attendant and pays for the dress before you can argue with her or see the price as you go to change back into your regular clothes.

After getting the dress neatly tucked into the back or Charli's SUV, the five of you decide to celebrate the evening with drinks and an early dinner. Elaine calls JT to let him and Jake know what you are doing, while Savannah texts her husband.

The five of you enjoy wine and food as you talk.

"Charli, Savannah, can I ask the two of you something?" You begin.

"Sure!" The state in unison.

"I already asked Phoenix and Halo, but I was wondering—I—I don't have any sisters or any family, really. But I would really love it if the two of you would be my bridesmaids." You say them.

They both squeal with delight and agree.

"Savannah, I know it would mean a lot to Jake and me if Carter and Sloan could be the ring bearer and flower girl." You tell her.

"Absolutely! You just tell me what you need and I'll make it happen!" She tells you earnestly.

"So, have you and JJ talked about where you want to get married?" Charli asks you.

"We did. We spent a few hours talking and decided that we wanted to get married at a vineyard in Napa." You tell them.

"Oh, that will be lovely!" Dorothea claps her hands. "What about a date?" She asks you eagerly.

"We want a fall wedding. We were thinking October." You state.

"October of next year will be absolutely perfect!" Elaine says.

"Not October of next year—this year." You tell them. The other women look at you like you have grown two extra heads.

"Hecate, darling. That's in three months." Elaine looks at you worried.

"I know. When Jake and I were talking after everything, we looked at some vineyards and found one we absolutely loved. It provids catering, chairs, tables, decor, and a coordinator. We called them to look into October of next year, and when we spoke to them, the owner told us they had a cancelation for October of this year, and if we took it, they would give us a significant discount. So we said yes." You tell them.

Everyone is silent as they take a minute to process what you've told them.

"Well, I suppose we need to start making travel arrangements then, don't we." Grammy Seresin breaks the silence.

............................

On the way back, you text Jake and tell him that his family knows about your plans. Later that evening, his mother tells the news to his father, who is more than excited for the two of you.

Later that night, the two of you were laying in bed together watching the blades of the ceiling fan spin.

"So you got your dress today." Jake breathes out as he looks at the black garment bag hanging on the closet door. "I did." You reply. "And you and Savannah are okay?" He questions.

"Yeah, we are. Though, she did make me cry today." You tell him.

"What? What did she do?" Jake shoots up. "Jakey, calm down. They were happy tears." You assure him. "She apologized to me. She was really sincere about it. And she gave me something" you tell him as you sit up.

"What did she give you?" He looks at you puzzled.

"She gave me your great grandmother's wedding veil. She said every Seresin bride since her had worn it or will wear it. So it only made since I got to wear it too. It's my something old and my something borrowed." You smile at him.

"She gave you Nana Seresin's veil?" Jake looks bewildered.

"She did. She brought it with her. Surprised us all. She also told me the reason she acted the way she did was because she was trying to protect you. She wanted to make sure my heart was in the right place." You explain to him.

"She sure had a hell of a way of showing she cares." Jake laughs.

"Just like me?" You goad him. Jake ponders for a moment. His brows furrow as he thinks. "I knew you loved me the whole time. Just had to wait for you to realize it, babe." He half laughs.

"Don't lie to yourself, Jacob. I had you sweating. But you wouldn't have me any other way, would you?" You ask him.

"No, Hecate, I wouldn't." He kisses you before turning off the beside table lamp.

You turn on your side. Jake pulls your back flush against his chest. His chin settles over the top of your head. You smile to yourself. In three short months, he would be your husband. You would be Mrs. Seresin. For the first time in a long time, you finally felt like you belonged.

So there is only one part left you guys! Thank you so much for your support on this!

Tag List: @pisupsala @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @arson-tm @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @caitsymichelle13 @lillyrosenight @callsign-hummingbird @inky-sunshine-blog @writeroutoftime @afterglowsb-tch13 @heyoimjordy @phoenixssugarbaby @hypatia93 @bradshawseresinbabe @je-suis-prest-rachel @teacupsandtopgun @boringusername3 @starlightstories @daggerspare-standingby @utterlyhopeful-fics @talkfastromance4 @fighterpilothoe @t-nd-rfoot @phoenix1388 @abaker74 @gigisimsonmars @emorychase @Ok-denice @greatszu @shawnsblue @angelbabyange @sadpetalsstuff @softmullet @cowboybarbie @shewritesfiction13 @sweetlittlegingy @rogersbarnesxx @rintheemolion @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman smut #jake hangman x reader #lt. jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin #tgm smut #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #tgm #top gun 2

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mclintocksdaughter · 1 year

Text

Life’s Changes

Chapter Summary: Elain returns to Outer Banks after a few changes and is greeted by her family.

Pairing: JJ x fem!OC/Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1,403

Warnings: Fluff, emotional JJ (Yes, that's a warming), let me know if I missed anything

Series Masterlist

She’d left Outer Banks right after graduation. A few days after everyone received their diplomas, she jumped on a ferry and refused to go back. Elain saved up enough money to buy a pickup and trailer.

The first ranch she worked for bought her a horse, a bay gelding named Tank. She paid them for a pair of chaps and chinks, while she was there. Elain also bought a Blue Heeler, whom she named Aspen. She was only there for a month, seeing as that’s all she signed on for. It was a place up in Wyoming, where she was glad she didn’t stay. The winters there are about as cold as one could imagine.

The second place she worked for was in Texas. They were good to her, and she learned a lot there. Elain bought another horse, a pretty bay roan mare named Ember while she was there. She was there for two weeks and is now headed back to OBX.

She began to sweat when boarding the ferry, nerves, and excitement getting to her. She was afraid they’d hate her for leaving for half the summer. The last time she talked to John B, two days ago, he promised they’d love to see her. Despite his reassurance, she wasn’t sure how they’d react to how she’d changed.

She’d gained more muscle, her thighs and arms getting just a little bigger. Her hair had naturally created highlights because she’d been outside so much. A few tattoos were now on display in various places, as well as scars she got while working. She had a new trailer and a vehicle that was only a few years old, as well as having collected a few animals.

Her fashion sense had changed, she no longer wore jean shorts and a crop top, now it was a short sleeve shirt tucked into jeans with a belt and a decent-sized belt buckle. A collection of hats resides in the ‘bedroom’ of the trailer, as well as a bunch of stuff for the horses and Aspen. She hadn’t smoked since graduation and drank considerably less than before. She now longed for a ranch with her last name on the gate and lots of cattle.

The ferry horn brought her from her thoughts. She pulled off it and began the drive to John B’s. Nothing had changed in the time she had been gone. Everything seemed frozen in time as if she’d never left at all.

The Chateau came into sight, and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Parking the pickup, she turned it off and walked toward the house. She wrung her hands together and walked onto the porch. She debated knocking, and deciding against it, she walked in, pulling her hat off her head.

The house was empty, as was the yard, and the shack. Deciding to wait for them, she walked back to the pickup and opened the back door, her hat resuming its position on her head. Aspen jumped out, Elain grabbing the leash on the floor for the puppy. Aspen ran around, went to the bathroom, and started smelling around. Elain grabbed a handful of treats and put them in her pocket.

She moved from the front of the pickup to the tack compartment. She took the blue haynet filled with hay to the back of the trailer. Opening the slide gate, she slipped in and tied the haynet up. She made sure it was locked when she shut it again. She then filled a purple tub with white handles with water from the water tank inside the trailer. She also set out Aspen’s water bowl. She opened the side door and heaved the purple tub into the trailer for the horses. Elain latched the side door and called for Aspen. The puppy came running from behind a tree. Elain gave her a treat after making her sit, Aspen devouring it immediately. The Blue Heeler then drank from her water bowl before going back to exploring.

Elain sat against the trailer and pulled her hat down a bit. She debated calling John B, but she didn’t want to interrupt whatever fun they were having just to find out where they were.

With some effort, she got up and laid down in the hammock. Aspen chased after her and settled her head on Elain’s shoulder, with Elain’s arm around her little body. Both fell asleep shortly after lying down.

Elain woke to the hammock tipping as Aspen jumped off and ran to bark at something. Stretching, she slid out of the hammock and onto the ground. She stood up, straightened herself out, then followed the noise Aspen was making.

Everyone was getting out of the Twinkie and going to look at her pickup and trailer. Aspen ran up to them, yapping and asking for scratches. Kie and Sarah fussed over how cute she looked in her tooled leather collar, with her name on it. JJ and John B were walking around the pickup and trailer, talking as they did so. Pope noticed the horses and was trying to look at them through the slots in the trailer. The horses made noise as they moved around in the trailer, trying to see what all the commotion is about. Aspen licked Sarah and Kie before running back toward Elain.

She reached down and pet Aspen, “You having fun little lady?” Aspen yipped and licked her hand in reply. Elain giggled before she looked up to see the girls staring at her. She gave a little wave and both girls took off toward her at a run.

Elain stumbled back a little when Kie reached her, wrapping their arms around each other. Elain laughed, “Hey, pretty lady.”

“Lanie, you’re home,” Kie squealed.

“Let me see my sugar,” Sarah laughed.

Elain pulled away from Kie after a few more seconds, Sarah now hoarding Elain.

“Missed you, sun drop,” Elain giggled.

“Missed you too, Lane,” Sarah said, squeezing Elain.

“My turn,” Pope told Sarah.

Elain’s head was against his shoulder, “Missed you, Heyward.”

“Missed you so much, Felman,” he replied, swaying back and forth.

“Hey, move over,” John B complained. Elain slowly pulled away from Pope, just to be almost tackled by John B.

“I missed you too, JB,” Elain laughed. He hugged her for a few minutes before letting go.

“How long are you staying?”

“The rest of the summer as long as I’m welcome,” she told him.

“You’re always welcome,” he grinned and messed with her hat.

She laughed and fixed it, John B moving back with the others to get a good look at her. JJ stared at her, standing a few feet behind Kie.

“Elain, spin around,” Kie said, motioning for a spin. Elain did as told, slowly spinning in a circle so they could see all of her.

“How did you get more beautiful?” Sarah complimented. Elain shrugged and laughed. “I’m serious, how did you get more beautiful?” Elain laughed again.

“I don’t know. I’ve gained a lot more muscle, but I’m still thick in the thighs. What are you seeing as more beautiful,” Elain moved around a little, her jeans showing all of her curves.

“Your soul,” Kie answered, smiling, “Your soul seems more beautiful.”

“Well, I loved being out and around the cattle and the horses, so that might have something to do with it.” Elain noticed JJ had taken a few steps forward, but still hadn’t said anything. “If you want to meet the horses, I can get them out for you. You might want to change into jeans though.”

“We’ll be back,” Kie said, pulling Sarah into the Chateau. John B nudged Pope, motioning toward JJ, “We’re going to go get some stuff out of the Twinkie.” Elain nodded.

Finally, she was left alone with JJ. She took a few steps toward him. “Hi,” she said. That was all it took for JJ to pull her into a hug.

He hugged her like if he let her go she would disappear. She hugged him back and gripped his shirt. “Please, don’t ever do that again,” he pulled away.

“Do what,” she asks, looking into his eyes.

“I thought you left and were never coming back.” His eyes held a slight panic.

“I wouldn’t leave without you,” she moved a hand up to cup his cheek.

“Really?”

“Really. I wanted to get a reputation built up outside OBX and I was going to come back for you. So here I am,” she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

“Thank you for coming back.”

“Always.” She hugged him again.

“JJ, you have to let her go now. We need Elain to get her horses for us,” Kie said, interrupting the reunion.

Elain laughed, kissing JJ on the forehead before tying up the horses for the girls.

#jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #obx fic #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks jj #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank series

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theladyofdeath · 2 years

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The Viscount Who Loved Me {One}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction, inspired by the first 2 seasons of Bridgerton.

Written alongside @snelbz

Ships: Nesta x Cassian x Elain (I said what I said) Feyre x Rhysand Elain x Azriel x Gwyn

Summary:

As the season begins, a new Diamond is named. She catches the eye of a prince whose feelings remain unrequited. However, the man who catches the eye of the Diamond remains off the market, refusing to get married as a jab to his late father. Meanwhile, the Diamond of the Season’s sisters have found themselves in a bit of a quandary. The elder is pushing the younger to get married to help her move on from the horrid disaster that happened last season, but in the process, the elder catches the eye of the younger’s match, even though she is considered to be an old maid and far past her time to be wed at the age of six and twenty. As they say, all is fair in love and war.

Tag list is at the end. If you'd like to be added, please comment below or submit an ask. :)

Dear readers,

I heard a rumor that a certain rake with a capital R is looking to wed this season. Luckily for one cunning young lady, he's incredibly wealthy.

Handsome, too.

And are those not the qualities one looks for in a husband?

Yours Truly,

The Suriel

Cassian hadn’t slept a wink even though the woman beside him was out cold and had been for hours. As it neared dawn, he decided it was time to take his leave, even though he was perfectly comfortable wrapped up in the blankets of Tanwyn’s warm bed.

Leaving was always the hardest part but he thought it better to do before most of the ton was up and going for the day. Even though they all knew he was a Rake, he preferred to keep his reputation on the down low.

And by that, he preferred to let the people of Velaris think whatever the hell they wanted about him as long as they talked about him behind closed doors.

After sliding out of bed, he tugged on his trousers, boots, and shirt before throwing on his jacket and stuffing his vest into his satchel. The three coins didn’t so much as clink as he set them on the table in the corner. With a final glance at the sleeping form in the bed, he tugged his hat over his long hair and was out the door. He’d have to have a trim before the first event of the season, so as to not gain the wrong kind of attention.

Even in early spring, it was brisk so early in the morning. Cassian huffed out a breath as he headed down the street, sticking his hands into his pockets, for what little warmth they offered. After buying a paper from the boy on the corner he was on horseback, trekking from one side of town to the other.

There was a shortcut through the park, which he found both useful and lovely first thing in the morning. Although a fog had settled over the fresh, green grass, there was something ethereal about an empty park that Cassian had never grown tired of. He took his time, riding slowly through the open field.

It was the perfect time to let his thoughts roam.

It was mad to think that in a couple of months he would be a married man. After his upbringing, it was all Cassian wanted: to find a wife and have children. His parents had died young, passing along a title that Cassian didn’t get to truly claim until he was much older.

He had it all, though. The money. The title. The houses.

Now he just needed a family to share them with. He’d always wanted children, had always been fond of the idea. Finding a woman to carry those children, however, had been an impossible game in itself. It wasn’t that he had been picky over the previous years, but settling down and pinpointing one woman had been a challenge.

He liked women.

He liked to fuck.

He liked the freedom but knew that he could not have both. Now that he was getting older, it was time.

This season, he would find a wife.

And she must be the best that the season had to offer.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in the fresh morning air as his horse meandered on. He thought about going to Rhysand’s but it had been a few days since he’d been home. He should probably check in on things, should probably make sure all was in tip-top shape if he were to be having any sort of guests soon.

As he approached a hill on the far side of the meadow, he went left, opposite of the river.

He’d just started to yawn when he heard it.

A horse whinnied and raced past him. He hadn’t even realized that there had been someone nearby.

Especially not a woman.

Alone.

But the skirts beneath the cape of the hooded rider were unmistakable and if it was, indeed, a lone woman…

“Miss?” He called after her. The rider continued on.

Cassian dug his heels into the side of his mare and picked up his speed, following the woman, yelling for her to stop, calling to see if she was in trouble.

She didn’t even give him a glance.

After a moment of the chase, Cassian came to the conclusion that she was not in trouble, but it only made his curiosity grow. He begged his horse to run, but she could not compete with the beast ahead.

He tried again, “Miss!”

She turned back to look at him at last, her hood catching in the wind. He saw a flash of golden brown hair and then she was off again, urging her horse forward, faster.

He swore quietly, seeing that she was riding for the edge of the park. Steering his horse around the copse of trees she’d ridden into, Cassian hurried to see if he could make it to the large fence around the park before she did. He reached the fence in just a few moments, and heard the hoofbeats of the woman’s horse soon after. She was riding at a much more acceptable pace now and as Cassian rode up beside her, she jumped, the hood of her navy cloak falling from her braided hair.

She looked at him and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the look in her gray-blue eyes. Anger, with a hint of mischief.

“Good morning,” Cassian said, simply, deciding it was a reasonable way to begin a conversation.

“Do you always follow women at dawn in the park?” she replied, causing Cassian to second guess everything he had ever known about women.

“Pardon?” he asked, and her eyes never wavered from his. “Women do not ride alone at dawn. Where is your chaperone?”

“And who are you to ask of my chaperone?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “Surely, a man who cannot win a simple race should not be asking such entitled questions.”

“A race?” Cassian repeated, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “That was no race.”

“Yes, it was, and I won,” she replied, chin held high. “Although, you cannot blame yourself for your loss. It is your horse. She is old.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment before laughing, yet again. “I assure you. If it was a race, I would have won.”

“If it was not a race, then why were you following me, sir?” she jabbed, keeping her eyes on the path ahead as they began to ride.

“I feared you were in trouble,” he replied, unsure of how to react to a woman being so forthright. “I have never seen a woman riding without a maid, especially so early in the morning. It is almost as if you do not wish to be seen.”

“Perhaps I don’t,” she replied. “I did not intend to run into anyone. As for my safety, I promise you that I had the situation under control. My safety should be of no concern to you.”

Cassian could not help the laugh that tumbled out of him, yet again. “Very well. I will not tell a soul of this encounter.”

“I am most grateful,” she replied, and dipped her chin in his direction.

“It’s purely for my benefit,” Cassian went on, and he heard her scoff. The simple sound excited him. “If people were to know of this encounter, could you imagine the questions they would be asking me?”

“Ah, so this becomes about you?” she said, and Cassian shot a glance in her direction. Her eyes remained on the path ahead, but her eyes were lit, her chin raised high. She opened her mouth to say something more, but then she froze. Cassian followed her line of sight and noticed a pair of gentlemen riding in the distance.

“My apologies,” she said, and steered her horse in the opposite direction. “Good day, sir.”

“Wait,” he protested, attempting to turn around but by the time he did, she was hurrying away. “I didn’t get your name!”

She didn’t even look back as she rode away and disappeared over the hillside.

<.>

Feyre Archeron took a deep breath as she stood before the doors to her father’s study. She’d been expecting the conversation any day, had heard her sisters discussing it when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. What they hadn’t realized was that she was often listening when others thought she was absorbed in her art.

What about those ships to Behret, Elain had asked, during dinner one night, when their father had been at the gentleman’s club. Father said the gold from one of the ships on that endeavor alone would cover not only my dowry, but also Feyre’s, and yours, should you choose to marry.

Marriage.

It was not that Feyre didn’t want to be married, didn’t want to be a wife, but the thought was daunting. It was especially daunting considering neither of her sisters were married. Somehow, even though she was the youngest, it seemed that Feyre was the most likely to get married first. She had no idea how it happened, or why, but it was not her place to complain.

“You may come in.”

Her father’s voice echoed in the hallway beyond.

She rarely saw her father. He spent so much of his time away on business that the girls had come to know life without him, and had gotten used to it. It was almost stranger when he was home then when he wasn’t.

Feyre pushed open the doors to her father’s study and entered, smiling as she did so, even though she felt no joy. “Good morning, father. It’s nice to see you home so soon.”

Isaac Archeron smiled - at least, he smiled as much as he could. Feyre swore that she never saw a genuine smile on her father. At least, not since she was old enough to remember such things. “You look beautiful, my dear.” There was only a slight pause before he said, “The season is starting soon. Are you prepared?”

Straight down to business, then.

“Yes, sir,” she nodded, clearing her throat. “Nesta has made sure my dances are impeccable and my pianoforte is—”

“I don’t know how we managed to make it out last season with our name unscathed,” he interrupted, looking back to whatever document he was signing. “After the mess with Lord Harding last year, I hope your sister is a little more cunning to her fellow ladies.”

Feyre didn’t speak, waiting to see if her father was done. It seemed he wasn’t.

“Your sisters are to go to the modiste today,” he said, folding his hands over his desk, paperwork forgotten. “You will accompany them. It’s time to lower your hems.”

“Yes, father,” Feyre nodded, curtsying slightly. “If that’s all, I’d like to take an hour or so to paint before we go.”

“Painting is not a useful skill, darling,” her father said, looking back down at his papers. “You should practice the pianoforte for a while if you have a moment.”

“The pianoforte-.”

“That is all,” her father interrupted.

Her dismissal.

“Good day, father,” she said, before turning towards the door.

“Feyre?”

She stilled although she never gathered the strength to turn and face him, once more.

“You are expected to present yourself in front of the queen in a week’s time,” he said. “Do not embarrass our family. You are our greatest hope.”

There was a lot she wanted to say to her father in that moment. For one, she wanted to tell him that he was being far too dramatic. The world did not revolve around her, nor did their family. Feyre knew that both of her sisters had the same chance of finding a husband to carry on their legacy.

Perhaps it was that that had Feyre turning to face her father, once more.

“Is everything alright, father?” she asked. “You seem disturbed.”

Isaac frowned, stilling at the papers in his hands. “I do not wish you to worry.”

“Is there something you’re worrying about?” Feyre pushed, knowing she shouldn’t, but not caring. “If so, you should not carry the burden alone.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he repeated, clearing his throat. Between one breath and the next, he’d flipped the papers in front him over, his pen forgotten. “Now, you said you had some painting to do. Off to it then.”

A second dismissal. She was not tempted for a third. With another curtsy, Feyre was leaving the study, passing by stewards and servants alike, aiming for her bedroom to change into something more suitable to paint in.

“Feyre!”

Wincing, she came to a stop as she heard the voice of her eldest sister at the bottom of the stairs. She turned from the hallway she’d been headed down, finding not only Nesta awaiting her in the foyer, but Elain, as well.

“We’re to go to the modiste today, did father not tell you?” Nesta asked, tugging a pair of gray gloves on as Elain held a fan delicately in her hands.

“He did,” she replied, bracing a hand on the curved wooden railing, “but I was under the impression we were to go in a few hours.”

“We’ve had to move our visit up,” Nesta said, imperious as always. “We’ve heard rumor that Lady Harding is planning a visit later this afternoon as well, and we’d prefer to not be in her company.”

Elain flinched at the name but none of them commented on the matter. They didn’t dare. Elain had just come out of her dark hole of despair, they wouldn’t do anything to force her back in.

“Very well,” Feyre said, begrudgingly. “Allow me a few minutes to get ready.”

Nesta gave her a tight lipped nod before Feyre was hurrying from the room to collect her gloves and hat.

Going to the modiste was the last thing she wanted to do, not only today but any day. She would, though. For her sisters, and their father. They had all been through too much for her to complain, so she wouldn’t.

She would go try on dresses and have them fitted to perfection.

She would prance around the ton, put on a show that none of them could criticize.

She would marry a man whom she did not love to uphold their family name, even though it was not the desire of her heart.

She was a woman.

It was her duty.

Considering her sisters failed at theirs, it was now on her shoulders alone.

<.>

“What do you think about blue?” The modiste asked, after Feyre had shot down fabric after fabric for her dress to the upcoming ball. Madame Amren was the most popular modiste in town by far, and she was known for her lavish, exquisite gowns. Both Nesta and Elain had settled on fabric, cut, and embellishment, while Feyre couldn’t even decide what color she should wear. She went on, “With your sisters in dove grey and amethyst, a blue gown would be very complimentary.”

“How many blue gowns have you made for the ball at the Beddor’s next week, Madame Amren?” Feyre asked, glancing at the floral fabric she held in her hands. The silk was far better suited for Elain.

A beat of hesitation. “Quite a few, miss, but—”

“My sister is right,” Nesta interrupted, from where she and Elain were admiring her new mesh fabrics for gloves. “She must stand out before Her Majesty, but we must also look good as a household.” She regarded the yards of fabric along the walls. “What about navy? Do you have any silks in a navy coloring?”

“Navy is not a color typically worn during the season, Miss Archeron,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “It is usually made into velvets and wools, for winter—”

“But do you have any in silk?” Feyre asked.

“Of course,” Madame Amren said. “But, only a select few.”

The sisters remained as Madame Amren hurried into the back.

Elain cleared her throat, about to tell Feyre she’d made a good choice, and tell her about the time she and another eligible lady had shown up in the same shade of rose pink last season, when the bell above the door chimed. Amren had just returned from the back, three silks of darkest blue in her arms and set them down on the low lying table next to the dais Ferye stood upon, pins still nearly pricking her skin in some places as Madame Amren took her most recent measurements. “Excuse me,” she said, nodding to the ladies and hurrying to the front of her shop.

Elain froze as she heard her greet her customers. “Lady Harding, Lady Beddor, Miss Clare, how may I help you?”

Nesta and Feyre’s eyes met and they both looked to where their sister was now staring at an unfinished gown across the room, scarcely breathing.

The conversation blurred as Elain’s ears began to ring, and far too loudly, she was certain, she announced, “Excuse me. I need some air.”

She did not wait for anyone to protest as she fled, even though she knew Nesta reached for her hand before she hurried out the front door and onto the cobblestone streets of Velaris.

After hurrying around the side of the shop, she leaned against the brick wall and closed her eyes.

Breathe, she begged herself. In and out.

Her heart was nearly ready to beat out of her chest. The whole reason they had moved their appointment to the morning was to avoid such confrontation. Not that Lady Harding would care that Elain was in her presence.

It wasn’t her that had her heart broken, but Elain’s,

Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes and for a moment, she wanted to scream, wanted to curse, but did not.

She continued that steady, deep breathing until her heart quieted down.

How pathetic I am, she thought, and her cheeks grew red. She did not want to go back in there, she was too embarrassed.

Miss Clare, Graysen’s betrothed, was most likely having a grand ole time, seeing Elain in such a state.

Graysen.

Even his name clanged through her, making her regret every moment they’d shared together the season before. He’d courted her almost the entire season, asking to add his name to her dance card at the very first ball after her coming out. Unfortunately, she was already full up for the evening, but the next morning he was calling on her at their home. He brought her the most beautiful flowers, every time he saw her. Whether it was a bouquet for her dinner table or a single, elegant rose at a ball, Elain’s heart fluttered every time she saw him. He’d taken her out for promenade after promenade, Nesta a dutiful chaperone at all times.

But at the penultimate ball of the season, at Graysen’s family’s own estate, when she’d expected that he was to finally ask for her hand, his father had announced his son’s engagement.

To Clare Beddor.

While Graysen had been courting Elain, their budding romance clear for all of the ton to see, Lord Harding and Lord Beddor had come to a business arrangement behind the scenes.

Elain had never been so humiliated, heartbroken, and devastated. In an instant, the future she’d imagined, the life she saw for herself as Graysen’s wife… It was gone.

She and Nesta hadn’t attended the final ball of the season, lest she have to face Graysen, apology and pity undoubtedly written across his face, or worse, Clare herself.

The smirk Elain had spied on Clare’s face had told Elain they’d made the right choice in not attending.

Once her heart had calmed, once it no longer felt like it would beat out of her chest, Elain pushed herself off the wall, smoothed down her skirts, and began to walk back toward the street.

It was bustling, every citizen of Velaris out and about, preparing. All the members of the ton had somewhere to be. In a matter of days, they would also begin to be displayed like prizes for one another.

The sun was out, bright and welcoming, which was rare for an early day in the Spring. It was lovely, though. Elain tossed her head back and dwelled in the warmth just as she rounded the corner of the shop.

And ran into something - or, rather, someone.

A very unladylike noise flew from her mouth, something between a gasp and a yelp, as she grabbed her hat to keep it from falling off of her head. She took a step back, her heart back to beating wildly within the confines of her chest, and found herself looking into the face of a young gentleman, perhaps a year or two older than herself.

“Oh, my apologies, sir,” she said, the words tumbling ungracefully from her mouth. “I should have been paying attention to where I was going. The sun is just so lovely. It distracted me.”

At first, she noted the crimson rising on his tanned neck, above his collar, but he soon gave her a gentle smile. With a respectful incline of his head, he said, “I should be the one apologizing. I was not paying attention, myself. I am afraid I was in a bit of a hurry and it was clouding my judgment.”

Elain couldn’t help her polite smile from spreading. “It looks like we are both at fault, then. Perhaps we both deserve a little grace?”

“That would be nice,” he said, and went to move around her but frowned before looking down at his fingers, which looked to be coated in charcoal, then to Elain’s sleeve. “It seems I may have gotten your dress dirty. Here, let me-.”

“Hmm?” Elain followed his line of vision, spotting the dark gray smudge on her sleeve. He took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and reached for her arm, then stopped.

“May I?” he asked.

Elain swallowed but nodded as he reached politely for Elain’s arm and dabbed at the stain. It grew lighter, but didn’t disappear. Elain took her arm back, hastily, and cleared her throat. “It’s quite alright. I’ll see that it gets removed. Thank you, Mr….”

“Draeven,” he replied, when it was clear she was waiting for him to supply his name. “Azriel Draeven.”

It almost seemed like he was uncomfortable providing his name, but he said nothing more about it.

“Lady Elain Archeron, my lord,” she said, feeling foolish for not recognizing his status before. She recognized his name. He was a baron. She curtsied and he returned it with a bow of his own. “A pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he assured her, an exchange that Elain had already had a million times in her life. Yet, this time, it nearly seemed like he meant it.

Men rarely meant such things.

A horse whinnied from the carriage out front of the modiste.

A carriage, Elain realized with a start, belonging to her family. She could already see Nesta in the carriage, a fan keeping her from roasting within the velvet-lined landau.

“I should be going, Lord Draeven,” she blurted, starting for the carriage. She stopped, curtsying and inclining her head.

“Please, call me Azriel,” he replied, and Elain swore she saw him cringe, just a bit. “Titles are… Well, I prefer my given name to my family name.”

She hesitated, but nodded. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Azriel.”

He waited until she’d hurried for the carriage, watching as she turned and looked at her one last time before climbing inside. Softly, so quiet no one but himself could hear, he repeated, “The pleasure is all mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #nessian #elriel #feysand #gwynriel #fanfic #fanfiction #period au #au #sjm #bridgerton au

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cthulhu-calling · 2 years

Text

Take Your Memory With You I

Carol Danvers x f!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader

Summary : There's never anything interesting that happens in your small town of Rose Briar. But when heartbreak, a beautiful stranger and your past come knocking, there's nowhere to run.

Warnings : fluff, angst, reader needs to stand up to her mum, adopted reader, mixed feelings

Author's Note : okay so my reader is a woc but I've tried to make reader's physical appearance of reader as vague as possible. So, reader is obviously Winnie's adopted daughter and Bucky's sister. Please let me know what you think of the first chapter :))

Word Count : 1368

series masterlsit

You loaded up all the groceries into your truck before dropping the shopping cart off. Just as you were ready to pull out of the parking lot, your phone starts to ring.

“Hey what’s up?” You ask, trying to balance your phone between your shoulder and ear as you slowly pull out of the parking.

“Just wondering when you’re getting home,” Carol asks and you can hear something sizzling in the pan in the background.

“Twenty minutes, tops. I gotta drop off groceries for ma and Natasha,” you tell her, driving towards your mom’s house.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you soon?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be home soon. I love you,” you say and she echoes the same before hanging up.

You pull up in front of your childhood home, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself before getting out of the vehicle. You wish you’d gotten a thicker one along but you don’t have much time to waste as you quickly make your way to the door, knocking impatiently.

Winnie Barnes greets you at the door and you can tell she’s mad.

“What’s wrong now?” you sigh, carrying the two huge bags to the dining table.

“Do you remember Elaine?” you can tell she’s bursting at the seams with anger.

“Elaine Schmidt?” you ask, mostly disinterested.

“Ever since her daughter got married to some rich man in New York, she won’t get off her high horse. She was showing off that red sports car her daughter gifted her. Hah! She’s half blind and she’s gonna drive a sports car?” Your mother scoffs and though she tries to hide it, you know she’s jealous.

“That sucks. Good for Kelly though,” you shrug.

“That’s a gold digger if I’ve ever seen one. He’s twenty years older than her, that husband of hers,” she supplies and while you store that information for later so you can share it with Carol, you don’t show it.

“Is there a point to this?” You sigh.

“Oh yes, do you remember her florist shop? She sold it to some city folk and it’s going to be made into a dance studio! Can you imagine?” She asks, wholly against the idea.

“Maybe it’ll be good for the town, who knows?”

“No it won’t, people from the city don’t just move to small towns outta nowhere. They’ve something to hide, always,” she whispers conspiratorially. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Ma, I really should get going,” you say, pretending to check your watch.

“Stay for dinner. I made your favourite key lime pie for dessert,” she tempts but you know you can’t.

“I can’t tonight ma. Carol’s waiting at home and she cooked. She has something important to share,” you decline her offer and you can already see the gears turning in your mom’s head.

She might not be biologically your mother but she had been possessive of you ever since you were a baby. She’d always wanted a daughter and finding out that she couldn’t have another child had devastated her. So when you came into the life of the Barnes’, everything changed. Winnie felt that she had her right over you first and foremost. To be fair, she was like that with your brother Bucky too but with you it was on a whole nother level.

“You don’t think she’s going to ask you to marry her, is she?” She asks incredulously, as if even the thought of it is absurd.

“No! No, we’ve only been together for like less than two years. It’s way too soon, isn’t it?” Your expression of doubt is enough for her to jump on.

“Of course, dear. Even if she does, know that you don’t have to feel pressured by her okay? If she tries something, you come straight to me, okay?” She says in a honey tone. You know she’s grasping for straws. Ever since you moved in with Carol six months ago, she has been like this.

“We’ll see, I guess. I should get going, I gotta drop these off at Natasha’s too,” you let her know and you know she’s not pleased.

“You’re still doing grocery runs for her? Parker is a year old now, she should have the hang of things by now,” your mother scowls.

“Ma, enough,” you’re stern and she finally lets up with a sigh.

“Fine, thanks for getting these for me,” she motions vaguely towards the groceries.

“No worries, I’ll see you soon,” you call out as you walk towards the door.

“Wait!”

“What now?” You ask, not bothering to mask the irritation in her tone.

“Take this with you. God forbid you go hungry because that woman can’t cook,” she says as she hands you a Tupperware of key lime pie. You sigh, accepting it if just to avoid a fight.

You get in the car and drive to Natasha’s next. Once you’re there, you grab all the groceries and ring her doorbell. You’re patient, even though the plastic of the carry bags digs into your skin a little painfully now. But when more than five minutes pass of you ringing the doorbell three more times, you’re worried.

You drop the bags and start moving the plants around, looking for that spare key you know she hides somewhere. You throw open the door when you finally find it, forgetting all about the groceries.

You rush inside, calling out her name. You check the spare bedroom and the bathroom, finding both empty. When you throw open the door to the master, it’s loud enough to wake Natasha up.

“Natasha! Oh my goodness, you scared me,” you gasp, finally catching your breath.

“Sorry, Parker was sleeping so I just dozed off. Did I scare you?” She asks, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Uh, yeah?” You say.

“Sorry,” she offers sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I dropped your groceries on the way in so I can’t guarantee the survival of the eggs,” you declare and she laughs, letting you know it’s alright.

“I couldn’t find the OJ at the store, they’d run out so I got apple juice instead,” you say as you place all the groceries out of the bag and onto the kitchen island.

“That’s alright as long as you got my mushrooms,” she says.

“Yeah, they’re real fresh. How’s things by the way?” You wonder.

“They’re alright, we’re finally settling into a rhythm. I think I’m ready to go back to work,” she tells you and you can hear the genuine joy in her words for the first time in months.

“That’s great,” you say, impulsively grabbing her hand and squeezing it. She smiles, squeezing it back. Her hand is soft in yours and you can’t resist turning it around to trace a tiny heart onto it.

Natasha sighs, stepping closer and your heart’s like a butterfly in your chest. The past few months, little touches and looks have become commonplace but you’ve never been this close to her.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears and just as it seems like something might finally happen, that maybe one of you would break this stalemate, your phone goes off and in a blink of an eye, Natasha is all the way across from you, on the other side of the marble island.

You rush to answer Carol’s call and hope the guilt doesn’t bleed through your tone.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in ten, I’m sorry,” you tell Carol when she asks why you’re not home yet. You’ll explain later.

“I should really get going, you take care, okay? And call me if you need anything,” you tell her as you grab the empty bags and tuck your phone into your pocket. A sense of disappointment lingers between the two of you.

“Yeah, thanks for grabbing my groceries. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she says, tucking the cash into your sweater pocket.

“It’s the least I can do since, you know,” you mutter awkwardly, cursing yourself for bringing him up.

She just hums, walking you to the door and you leave with just one last look at her.

You love Carol, you really do. But it’s not her who’s on your mind on the drive back home.

#carol danvers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #fluff #angst #cheating #female reader #small towns #heartbreak #mixed feelings

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