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moonlightazriel · 1 month

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Chapter 1: Falling through the stars /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: When the four forces of nature are used at the same time in different places, their power resonates through the universe, connecting all of them together

Word Count: 3,1K

Warnings: Mentions of war, injuries and blood.

Notes: Welcome to the first official chapter of this weird crossover that came up in my mind, obviously this contains spoilers of both acotar and throne of glass, maybe a little crescent city spoilers but who cares? hehheheh

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Too much blood, so much that the metallic scent was making Nesta’s head spin. She watched the eerily silent baby in Morrigan’s arms, Rhysand’s pale face as he grasped his mate’s body. The silent plea in those violet eyes for someone to do something, anything to bring them back to him.

All the wasted chances of apologising for years of abandonment, for letting her fourteen year old sister wander scared and alone in those cold woods, for letting her be taken to this world the first time, for allowing her back and for all the resentment Nesta felt towards herself crossed her mind. She never told Feyre how proud she was for everything she had become. A warrior, a High Lady, a mother.

With a last glance towards the nephew she wanted to hold, the one she wanted to tell stories, the one she wanted to see grow and become a great leader just like his parents. The baby who had so much to live for, the baby who just needed a chance of a better life.

It was for them and for them only that Nesta invoked that ancient power, prickling against her fingertips as she held the harp, the other two troves cold against her face and heavy against her head. And it was for them that she used them, no fear consuming her body, just the wish of saving her sister. And with that, Nesta stopped the time.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The universe felt as that wave of power crashed against the horn, and the other three troves sang in answer to that powerful call. A profane melody resonating throughout the stars, enveloping different worlds with its song. The females didn’t know what they had done, two strangers using the four items in unison, their power echoing, ripping the folds of space and time open.

The gaps started to form, growing in places long forgotten, lands no one has ever heard about, all of them connected by the troves. Alluring and calling like a siren song, the most curious beings crossed it, falling in between the worlds, just small glimpses of the vastitude of the universe they never dared to study about.

And it was through one of these gaps, staining the night sky of the Witch Kingdom in a bright light, that Y/N Blackbeak and Meraxes, her black wyvern fell. The winds roared, like an agonising screech trying to stop her, like they knew something she didn’t. Like they knew she would never return home.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

When she woke up that morning, rubbing her eyes and jumping out of the bed to start her day, she had no idea what was about to happen. After the war and all the centuries of damage in their home, the witches, both Ironteeth and Crochans working together, had a lot to do.

Everyday she would force her body out of the bed, keep going on autopilot ever since everything she loved was ripped away from her. She tried hard to keep going, like Asterin would’ve wanted her to, be there for Manon, like Asterin would. But Asterin wasn’t there anymore, she would never return with that grin of hers, never see the progress they made and the union of her people. Asterin was gone and she was left behind to try to mend her broken heart.

She blinked the tears away, resting her forehead against the cold tiles of her bathroom, the hot water making the skin of her back turn red. The burning sensation grounding her when the memories flooded her mind like a river. The sadness in her heart was an unwanted guest.

Asterin flew by her, a smirk on her face as her yellow eyes landed on her younger sister, Y/N atop Meraxes felt, deep within the heart that she didn’t even know she had. She looked in horror as the Thirteen aimed for the witch tower, their wyverns clearing the way for Asterin, she jumped from Narene, landing in the middle of the tower.

Y/N couldn’t see, but she tried to reach for her sister, reach for the only person that ever loved her, reach for that sisterly bond that lied within her soul ever since Asterin chose to keep Y/N under her wing, to train her and teach her what her duty was. Asterin, who despite everything they have been taught, chose to love Y/N like she was family.

Meraxes was tired, tired of fighting and flying, but she forced him to go to the Tower, to save Asterin. But she was too slow and too late, the light coming from the tower wasn’t dark, it was the purest shade of white, so bright that her vision got blurry, the impact sending her and the wyvern flying backwards, with such force that they hit the ground with a loud thud. Where the tower and the Thirteen once were, nothing stood.

Y/N wiped the blue blood that streamed above her eyes, a loud roar forming in the back of her throat, rumbling through her bones, she threw her head up, her lips parting as she roared to the skies, Meraxes roaring with her. Crying it was a weakness, witches didn’t cry, but Y/N braced herself, ignoring her arm bending in a wrong angle, the pain in her sliced face, thanks to a Yellowlegs that jumped on her and tried to slash her face open.

And she cried, cried and cried on that battlefield, cried as she got back on her feet, cried as she ripped a part of her riding leathers, wrapping her broken arm tightly against her body, branding her sword and marching towards the battle again. She would be strong, Asterin wouldn’t want her to give up. She would fight to protect what Asterin believed. She would fight for a better world, and die for it if she had to.

She fought until exhaustion, her body collapsing on the dirty ground. Claws caged her, lifting her from the ground, she gritted her teeth as pure agony flashed from her arm, her face was completely numb at this point and she fought to keep her eyes open. She blacked out when Meraxes reached the walls that kept Orynth intact, his claws letting her go, her body hitting the floor and rolling to the side.

Hafiza found her, ordering that other healers carry her bruised body inside. But her wounds were deeper than the ones marking her skin.

She allowed her tears to fall, mixing with the water, where no one could see her. An hour later she was wearing her riding gear, the red cloak hanging from her neck, part of the official uniform they had to use, to symbolise the union.

The witches watched her as she walked towards the Queen’s council room, as her wingleader and responsible for the remaining wyverns, she was always present in the morning meetings. As everything the Valg made was destroyed after Erawan died, they wondered how the wyverns belonging to the witches that decided to fight for Aelin Galathynius still remained, concluding that they were tied to this land by the bonds shared between them and their riders, not by the Valgs anymore.

“Good Morning.” Manon Blackbeak greeted, her commanders just nodded their heads in greetens to their queen. “How are the wyverns in the Ferian Gap?” The heads of the witches present turned to her, she held her head high at the sight of the eyes lingering in her scar.

“They’re being trained, I shall fly there today to see their progress, but I'm sure that soon they will be big enough to bond witches.” The queen nodded, her red lips smiling warmly at her, Manon was trying hard to be the best version of herself, the one her Thirteen believed she was before they sacrificed themselves for her.

“I’ll go with you. I want to see them too.” And Y/N wondered if that sudden interest of going too wasn’t because it was weeks since she saw a certain handsome King in Adarlan.

“Yes, my queen.” She dipped her chin in a silent bow of her head. Turning her mind off as the meeting kept going. Playing with her claws, scraping slowly the surface of the table, watching as faint lines marked into the wood. The morning meetings were boring as fuck.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Good boy.” She scratched the wyvern’s chin, the animal shaking its tail like he was just a very big dog. No wonder Meraxes and Abraxos were really good friends, they were two gigantic puppies, with mortal claws and teeth, just like her.

“You want to place a bet that these two will wait for us in a flower field?” Manon asked, the two females walked towards the entry of Ferian a few hours later. Y/N laughed, the skin of her scar pulling a bit as she did so.

“It’s not even something debatable anymore, those flowers sniffling addicts.” Manon smiled.

“You remind me of her.” The white haired witch blurted and Y/N came to a stop.

“We do not even look alike.” She tried to joke, with shoulder length light brown hair, dark blue eyes and the slightly more tanned skin, she couldn’t be any more different from Asterin, but she knew what Manon meant and she didn’t wanted to think about it, even if the witch just felt the need to speak it outloud.

“You could be twins.” She joked, but her expression turned to a serious one very quickly. “You have the heart just as good as hers was, and that’s where you two are equals to me.” She didn’t answer, the tears too heavy to carry. Manon didn’t demand a response when Y/N stopped, leaving the younger witch alone for a bit.

The Ferian Gap was as it usually was, damp and smelling like wyvern shit. The animals roared and flew around in the pit. Witches trained them and fed them. Not a single one chained, all of them free to go but they chose to stay. The younglings were still learning how to fly while the elders tried to teach them how, it was honestly really cute. She was leaning against a wall, Manon’s words still replaying themselves in her head, when a different scent filled her nostrils.

“Aelin’s delivery boy, what a pleasure to see you again.” She spoke, not even turning back to know that Fenrys Moonbeam was walking behind her, he let out a low chuckle.

“And here I was thinking I was an ambassador.” He stopped by her side. Eying the witch up and down, recognizing the grief lacing her features.

“Just a fancy name, I like to call it what it really is, delivery boy.” She snickered and Fenrys rolled his eyes.

“I hate you.” He nudged her with his elbow, his braid moving behind his back as he did it.

“Yeah yeah, mean witch and shit, I know that.” The male chuckled and she turned face to face with him. “What do you need?” After the war, she and Fenrys had grown really close, working together as Ambassadors for both of their queens. Wingleader her ass, Manon used her to gather resources and talk to important people.

“Actually, Aelin sent me here cuz she apparently has a very important meeting with the ladies of her court.” She knew what this meant, it was Aelin’s way to gather her friends and make sure they were alive.

“Am I invited this time?” She joked.

“Unfortunately no, but can I invite you for some beers?” He was the closest friend she had now.

“I would love to. Are you free to have one in the Witch Kingdom?” The male nodded.

“Just need to do my job real quick.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Fenrys held her waist, she could feel his shaking body against her back, caging her between him and the saddle. She smirked as she turned slightly to him.

“Can’t I go by foot?” He asked and she giggled.

“Too far away. You’re stuck with us, Meraxes will behave.” She promised and Fenrys nodded. She could feel his tense body during the three hour flight, the male squeezed his eyes shut, if that’s what Rowan had to deal with in his animal form, he was glad to be stuck as a wolf. Being that far away from the ground was a big no for him.

The wyvern landed, and Fenrys more than happily slid down his leg, grounding himself and thanking the Gods he was still alive.

“Are you alright?” She sounded genuinely concerned, but when he turned to her, he saw that smirk. “A certain Lord of Perranth would love to know about this.” Fenrys pretended to be hurt.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He started to follow her towards the tavern.

“Someone has to help that poor dude, with you and your queen constantly mocking him.” Fenrys held the door open for her, following her to a more secluded table.

“He deserves it.” He defended himself. “The usual?” The witch nodded, and he went to the counter ordering their drinks.

“How are you?” She asked, and Fenrys watched as a trickle of blood ran down her chin.

“I’m better, really.” He sighed. “How are you?”

“I’ve seen better days.” She joked, downing the goblet of blood in one go. “But I will be fine.” And for her sake, Fenrys hoped that she was right.

“I don’t know how you do that.” He changed the subject and the witch raised an eyebrow, the scar going up too with the move. “The blood, I mean.” He scrunched his nose.

“Don’t knock it until you try it.” She raised the goblet in his direction but he knew she was asking for another round.

The two sat there, for hours, talking. The sky was pitch black and the stars shone bright in the sky. He was telling a story about some drunk fae wanting to pet him when a witch burst through the door. Her cheeks were red and her cloak followed her like a river of blood.

“Bronwen needs you and your alliance to check something up, it’s important.” She stated, when Manon was away, it was her cousin that took care of things for her alongside Petrah Blueblood. Y/N turned to Fenrys, opening her mouth to apologise.

“Go do your duty, delivery girl.” He joked and she flipped him off, following the witch outside and whistling loudly to call Meraxes.

She was in the air before the witch had the chance to get on top of her broom. Flying towards the castle, where her alliance waited for her. She slid down, her feet hitting the ground with a loud thud. She glanced at Shearah, her second in command.

“What’s wrong?” She demanded, the witch locked eyes with her.

“The witches saw a gap to the west, they don’t know what it is, but we can hear its call.” Y/N focused her hearing, like a faint whisper being carried by the wind, she could hear, calling, lulling, inviting them to see what was waiting for them on the other side.

“Let’s go.” She adjusted her sword behind her back, hidden by the cloak, and the dagger resting against her thigh. Mounting Meraxes again, she was running towards the gap, following the melody.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The gap wasn’t that big, just a few inches, a slit like a snake eye looking at her, daylight peeked through it, interrupting the darkness in the sky. She had never seen something like this before. A chill ran down her spine.

“Stay behind!” She warned, the alliance forming a wall behind her.

She got closer, the thing looked like it was getting smaller by the second, she clicked her jaw, iron teeth covering her real ones, and her claws emerged from the tips of her fingers. Ready to attack in case something dared to cross. Just a closer look

The wind stopped its song, she couldn’t hear it anymore. The terrified faces of her alliance were the last thing she saw before she was sucked into the gap, watching with horror the night sky fading as it closed. She felt like she was falling, clutching the reins in the saddle with an iron grip. Her voice lost in the folds of space as she screamed. Falling, falling and falling.

Until everything stopped, and she was dangling upside down, the parts of the saddle that held her in place caging her in, forcing against her skin, bruising the flash. Meraxes had fallen to the side, and she groaned as her head started to pound. She was struggling to get out of the saddle, but as she did, her body hit the floor. Pain started to appear from the point she had fallen on top of a rock and she huffed in annoyance.

She circled Meraxes, slapping its leathery nose, the wyvern was still breathing and she released the air she was holding, he opened its eyes, golden eyes meeting hers and she was never more thankful to see those big eyes curiously scanning her.

The wyvern slowly got up, pulling her closer with a wing. She looked around, removing the pellicule that covered her eyes as she flew, a city was standing nearby, mountains surrounding it, the sight was quite beautiful but all she could wonder was. Where the FUCK she was?

Things got even more confused when she heard the sound of steps against the fluff grass. Meraxes growled at the strangers approaching her. Stones shone in the two of them, one red and one blue.

“What the fuck?” The male with the red stones yelled, his sword looking like a foolish attempt to protect himself from the really long teeth and sharp claws of the beast in front of him. She reached for her sword, armed and ready to attack. She was about to jump on them when they got closer and she could see their faces now.

The air was knocked out of her lungs and she wondered if she had gone insane, the achingly familiar face looked at her, the male was tall, beautiful big wings spread across his back, his hazel eyes studied her, trying to distinguish where to attack the threat. She felt like she knew him, her heart exclaiming that yes, she did know him, but her brain didn’t remember him, it wasn’t ready to remember him just yet. She shook her head and fixed her instance, the two stopped at the sight of her teeth glowing in the sun, ready to rip their skin apart.

“Where am I?” The female snarled and the beast behind her furiously stared at them, ready to rip them to shreds.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #worlds apart fic #azriel x oc #azriel acotar

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

➪the one where you try to move on and jack comes home.

Part 1

Warnings: angst, fluff, sad times all around

Word Count: 3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Jack sighed as he entered his house, his eyes glued to his phone as texts flooded the screen. The door shut loudly behind him, making him cringe in hopes he didn’t just accidentally wake his mom up. Deciding not to find out, he quickly walked through the house and towards the kitchen, where the door to the basement was.

He discarded his jacket on the armrest of the couch before falling against it, this thumb scrolling through text message after text message. Some old friends of his were trying to make plans for the weekend, but every idea given was something Jack refused to do.

Hey, buddy! Congrats on that new movie haha. I was thinking we could go out for breakfast sometime soon, just to catch up.

Hey, Jack, not sure if you remember me, but I just wanted to say I always knew you would make it big as an actor. Let’s meet up soon.

Hi Jack ;) Saw that movie you were in and just wanted to say you look good. Take me out to dinner sometime?

Man, he regretted not changing his number early on in his career.

He ignored each message as he opened his contacts and put in his password for his voicemail. His eyes closed when he lifted his hand and brought the phone to his ear, his heart skipping a beat when he heard your voice.

“Hey, it’s me. Um, you failed the test I gave you. I don’t know what happened to us or what happened to you, but I’m…I’m done,” the way your voice wavered had his heart beating loudly and his eyes stinging. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, I really wish I was. You meant everything to me and I wish you kept your promise. Good luck with everything. I wish you nothing but the best, and, yeah. I’m done. Goodbye.”

He squeezed his eyes tightly before opening them again, his vision slightly blurred as he kept the phone to his ear. “End of saved messages. To listen to this message again, press one. To delete this message, press two. To save this message, press nine,” his thumb moved and clicked on the same number he had pressed countless times now. “Message will be saved for two days.”

He seriously had no clue what he was going to do when the message deleted itself two days from now. It was, literally, the last thing he had of you as his mom had helped you clear out the clutter you had at his house. The hoodie you got from high school was no longer thrown over the chair in the corner, the pile of your favorite movies had disappeared from its place on the TV stand, the bag of chips he let you keep on the shelf was gone. You had successfully erased yourself from his life.

The only thing left was your voicemail. And the framed picture that was sitting beside the TV. It was the same picture you had beside your bed, and his heart ached as he wonders what you might have done with it. Did you keep it? Is it still on your nightstand? Did you destroy it? Pack it away in a box? Was he the only one with a copy of the picture now?

Each question made his heart burn as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table - his mind going back to when he did that the day he came home. At the time, your own phone was next to his, both powered off as you held each other.

Now, he was alone. His phone was the only one on the table, and he reached over to grab the pillow you had fallen asleep on too many times to count. He wrapped his arms around it as he fell against the cushions, his face buried in the pillowcase as sleep slowly took over his body.

Jack sighed heavily as he entered his house for the first time in three weeks. It was safe to say he was missing his own bed more than ever at this point and had long since grown sick of hotel rooms.

He couldn’t wait to fall face first into his sheets on his own bed, in his own room. The only thing that would make it better was if you were there with him.

The front door shut quietly behind him as he knew his mom was asleep. He pulled out his phone and clicked on your contact. He groaned when he realized what day it was and the plans with you that he had completely forgotten about.

He moved his thumbs to type out the most heartfelt apology ever written and offer to make it up to you tomorrow, but paused when he saw the notification at the bottom of the screen.

1 New Voicemail - Urgent.

Jack clicked on the message and put in his password before bringing his phone up to his ear. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting the voicemail to be about, but it definitely wasn’t you breaking up with him. He felt his heart skip a beat at how sad and defeated you sounded as he replayed the message two more times, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.

He saved the message before clicking on your contact again, his heart further deflating at the texts you had sent him earlier in the day.

9:32 AM

My girl <3: Hey, you’re home now, right? Are you still wanting to go out today?

The vagueness of your text should’ve been enough to set off alarms in his head. The fact you asked if he was still wanting to see you made his heart ache with guilt and regret. He always wanted to see you and he thought you knew that. The feeling only got worse as he continued reading the messages he had somehow missed.

10:01 AM

My girl <3: Sorry, you’re probably still sleeping. It’s been a long 3 weeks without you, I don’t blame you for wanting to sleep in.

10:03 AM

My girl <3: Just get back to me when you can.

The lack of your usual sweet words and the fact you weren’t adding any heart emojis at the end of your texts showed him exactly what you said in the voicemail.

You were done.

There were no more texts after that one and Jack felt his heart break when he realized that you probably thought he was flat out ignoring you, when it was the opposite.

He couldn’t wait to come home and see you. The past three weeks were hard and packed full of promo, interviews and press. He was hardly in control of his phone the whole time and only had it at the end of the day. Something about not wanting him to be distracted? Whatever the reason was, it was definitely not worth you feeling like he was ignoring you.

Jack clicked on the call button and brought the phone back up to his ear. Disappointment and guilt took over his body when he was sent straight to voicemail.

You didn’t want to talk to him.

You spent weeks trying to fight for your relationship, you had nothing left to give.

He squeezed his eyes shut when he heard your voice ask him to leave a message. He could only hope that you would get back to him as soon as your past self promised you would. “Y/n,” he said desperately, his eyes opening quickly as he brought his free hand up to tug on his recently cut hair. “Fuck, baby, I am so sorry for not answering you, I- things have been so crazy lately and I know that’s not an excuse, but, please. Let me make it up to you, let me explain everything, please.”

He was rambling, trying to get everything out in a single message. There were no words to describe the fear that was currently looming in his body, his heart aching and terrified that you wouldn’t call him back - terrified you wouldn’t let him explain.

“I can fix this, I can fix everything, I promise, just please,” he realized that his promises probably meant nothing to you now, but he was desperate at this point. “Please, just don’t… Don’t leave me. I love you, I-”

The sound of a beep cut him off and his pleas were sent to your voicemail.

He stood in silence for a few seconds, his phone still pressed to his ear as if your voice would come through the device and give him the comfort he hadn’t given you when you needed it most.

Finally, he dropped his hand and loosely held his phone between his fingers. His legs moved before his mind had the chance to keep up with them as he scrapped the idea of heading upstairs to his room.

He walked through the kitchen in complete darkness and opened the door to the place he spent hours with you in, the door closing loudly behind him.

GUYS I think they broke up fr.

Um…did Y/n and Jack break up? I haven’t seen any new posts with her in months.

Y/n hasn’t been active at all on social media….I think her and Jack are done.

JACK AND Y/N BROKE UP PARTY.

Hopefully they’re both okay, they seemed really happy together.

The comments he received on a daily basis were a form of torture Jack had never felt before. It hurt to read them, especially the ones that were applauding him for breaking things off with you.

She was holding him back, sorry.

He’s thriving now that she’s gone.

Yay, she’s gone.

God, people really were brutal.

He couldn’t bring himself to read anymore and closed the app. He was met with your smiling face as his background and felt his heart skip a beat.

You are so beautiful.

Jack felt his throat begin to close as he recalled all the times he should’ve told you that more. His eyes burned and his face heated up, but he couldn’t cry. Not now, not in public.

He’d be back home in a few hours and only then, when he’s in the comfort of the basement and holding the pillow that no longer smelled like you, would he allow himself to wallow in self pity.

Damn, he felt pathetic.

He just missed you more than any word in the world could describe.

He was right in believing you wouldn’t get back to him after he poured his heart out to you through voicemail. It still didn’t lessen the heartbreak, though.

If this was how it felt to be completely shut out from the person you loved, Jack couldn’t hate himself more for allowing you to feel this way about him. There were only a few times where he wanted to redo something, and this was one of them. If he could, he would go back a month or so ago and redo the entire thing, but this time so differently.

He would never let you feel the hurt and sadness that he provided you with every time one of your texts went unanswered. He would call you everyday, distractions be damned, and tell you that he missed you, that he loved you and that he was coming back to you.

Maybe he was imagining it, but he could’ve sworn he heard your laugh. It sounded distant, and maybe if he went a few more months without you he would’ve forgotten what it sounded like, but not now. Maybe not ever.

It was a sound he had been wanting to hear for weeks now. A sound he knew so well. One that belonged to you and only you.

He looked up and that was when he felt the first bit of happiness, the first bit of relief in what felt like forever.

You looked good, a lot prettier than he remembered and perhaps happier than he had ever seen you. It hurt to think that he was holding you back all this time. You were miserable for weeks because of him, and now you were happy without him.

That still didn’t stop him from crossing the busy street, breaking a couple of laws that he’d apologise for later, and standing a mere few feet from you. Your eyes opened and you took a step forward when your friend grabbed your arm as she had seen Jack before you did.

Giving her a confused look and raising a brow, you turn to where she was looking and almost instantly the smile you wore faded. Your arm slipped from hers as you held eye contact with your ex, your eyes ringing as heat flushed your face.

She mumbled something to you, along the lines of, “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay?”

You’re broken out of your trance as you turn to face her, a tight lipped smile on your face. “No, it’s okay. You go on, I’ll catch up,”

She nodded, giving Jack a suspicious look before walking away.

You were left to stand alone, with the exception of the broken looking boy in front of you. Shifting awkwardly, you hesitantly meet his eye. “You’re home,” you state, chewing on your bottom lip as you play with your fingers.

“Yeah,” Jack says quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You never called me back.”

It was a bad thing to say as Jack had also failed to call you back on multiple occasions, but his heart had more control over his mouth than his head did.

You break eye contact and look down at the broken sidewalk below you. “I know,” the silence returned for a second or two as you tried to think of what to say. It had been weeks since you last saw him, since you last talked to him, yet you couldn’t think of a thing to say to keep the conversation going without turning it into an argument. Observing his appearance, you force out a smile as you say, “You cut your hair.”

“Y/n,” he pleaded and you once again looked away, feeling your face heat up for the second time as you blinked away the tears that were beginning to form. While you couldn’t look at him, Jack couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Why won’t you look at me?”

He hated how he sounded so desperate, but he didn’t know how else to act.

You shake your head but look up at him anyway, shrugging as you ask, “What do you want me to say, Jack?” You ask and watch as his face falls and his own eyes become glossy. “You were gone and you…..you shut me out. I tried everything to get you to talk to me, to text me, to acknowledge that while you were out there living your new life, I was still here. You forgot about me.”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head and stepping closer to you. “No, I thought about you every day I was gone. I fuck-”

He cut himself off as he ran his tongue over his teeth, his disappointment in himself growing as the conversation went on. This was not how he wanted things to go at all.

“I fucked up, okay? I know that. There’s nothing I can say that would excuse what I did, but I’m sorry for everything. Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do,” he paused, glancing back up at you with the saddest look you had ever seen on him. “I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise.”

You give him a weak shrug, desperately trying to hold off on crying in public. “Sorry I wasn’t worth it,”

His hand grabbed your wrist without him even meaning to, stepping closer to you as if to hide your body behind his from the prying eyes of the world around you. “Don’t say that, baby, please,” he quietly begged, trying to ignore the way his heart leaped when you placed your hands on his forearm. “You’re everything to me. I’m the one who isn’t worth it.”

Your teary gaze met his and you had no control over the way your bottom lip quivered. “I can’t go through that again,”

Your words were hardly audible, but Jack heard you clear as day. His other hand came up to caress the side of your face as his guilty eyes stared into yours. “I’m so sorry,”

A few seconds pass with you staring up at him, and he knew you were trying to see if he was lying or being untruthful at all. It was the way you protected yourself before letting someone in. It reminded him of the early days of your relationship, back when you were cautious about allowing an actor to own your heart.

“Please,” he mumbled and you hesitantly placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to ignore how protected you felt as his figure towered over you. Without saying a thing, you tug on him and wrap your arms around his neck. Jack let out a quiet, dry sob as he tucked his face away in the space between your neck and shoulder. “Take me back.”

Your fingers played with the ends of his short hair, hiding your face away so your tears dampened his shirt. “Please,” you begged when he placed small kisses against the skin of your neck. “It can’t be like last time.”

Jack quickly pulled away from you and kissed you, his thumbs reaching up to wipe away your tears as he did so. “I promise,” he murmured when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Wherever I go, I’m taking you with me.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing him until you pulled away a bit to see the truthfulness in his eyes. “What?”

“That or I’ll just stay home,” the words flowed easily out of his mouth.

“You’re not serious,” you trail off, holding eye contact with him. “You’re serious?”

“I love you,”

You don’t say anything as his words, the ones you craved to hear for weeks, sunk into you. Reaching up, you press a chaste kiss to his mouth before holding him close to you once again, melting into the way his arms wrapped tightly around your middle.

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion imagines #ethan scream 6 #scream 6 ethan #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 imagines #angst

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moonseonghwa · 1 year

Text

Repetition - Choi San

part two to rewind

word count: 3k

warnings: soft dom!San, sub!reader, messy friends with benefits, unprotected sex (don't please), oral (m. receiving), orgasm denial? praising (lots of it)

ateez masterlist buy me a coffee?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You waited in the cafe down the street, your fingers tapping on the dark brown wooden table subconsciously as you were listening to the bustling atmosphere. The coffee shop was just next to campus, making it a hotspot for students that were on the edge of their seats, studying for the midterms which were currently pressuring you just as much.

You, in contrast, were waiting for your best friend to show up. Already having ordered his iced americano, with a brownie on the side, you noticed the familiar grey coat through the window, before the man entered the cafe. He spotted you, waved, before walking to your table. He was dressed in light-washed jeans, a white t-shirt, and the grey coat he likes the most. The grey coat you chose for him went you went shopping together.

You smiled at him, closing your laptop as he sat down. “Hey” He said, giving you a high five.

“How was the exam?” You asked, pushing your laptop into your bag before leaning your head on your hands, giving him full attention.

“Awful, think I failed this one” He pouted, smiling after he took a sip of his coffee. “This coffee is good, how come we’ve never been here before?”

You and San usually go to another spot to drink coffee together. You live with him, but with both of your busy schedules you don’t actually see him that much, so you both agreed to do something together. He called it ‘quality time with my favourite person’ and you wondered if he really meant the words.

San was a person that didn’t enjoy change too much, in contrast to his late-night rendezvous which did change every time. You’ve known him for a long time, but he still remains a mystery to you. A person that says A then follows his words with an action that screams B. You don’t mind though, you like figuring it all out. Figuring all of him out.

And in contrast to the man sitting in front of you, you loved change.

“Just saw this place yesterday, I believe it opened last week”

He hummed. “How’s the assignment?”

“A mess, I could’ve just handed in something blank” You sighed, falling back against your chair.

“We’re both doomed then” He chuckled, making you smile at the dimples showing on his cheeks.

You two actually hadn’t talked about what happened after that day, not knowing how to initiate another action, probably too scared to give in to the tension. You sometimes go back to that night in your head, imagining the feeling of his fingers on your skin and his lips on yours, wishing he was with you when you couldn’t get yourself to feel that amount of pleasure again.

You did notice that San hadn’t brought another girl to your apartment, either he stopped bringing them, or you just didn’t notice when he did.

“Y/n?” You were pulled out of your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you want to head back to the apartment to study in there, I didn’t bring my laptop.” He said, emptying the cup after you nodded, feeling your cheeks burn at your thoughts.

Back at the apartment, you made yourself tea first.

It has been raining for the past week, and the apartment was toned dark and cozy now. San bought scented candles, and he lit them up immediately after you got back. He loved scents, which was evident in the kinds of colognes he owned, each with its own vibe. Each matches an aspect of his personality.

With the tea ready, you placed one glass on the coffee table for San, him thanking you before you sat down on the couch, burying yourself in blankets as he sat on the floor in front of you, typing away one of his own assignments.

You were too exhausted to study, so you spend your time watching a drama on your phone. With the number of blankets on, you still felt your body freezing, so you got up, heading towards the bathroom to take a hot shower.

‘’Where are you going?’’ He said, already missing your presence close to him.

‘’Shower’’ You said, closing the bathroom door behind you after you got some clothes out of your room.

You sighed when the warm water hit your tense muscles, turning the knob a bit hotter, making steam cloud the bathroom. It was the best feeling, a hot shower after a long cold day.

After a good thirty minutes in the shower — which you desperately needed, in your defense— you stepped out of the shower. The bathroom mirror was fogged as a result, and you brushed your teeth after blow-drying your hair (and the mirror, too).

With a fresh pair of clothes, you walked out of the bathroom, straight into your own room as you were ready to wind down for tonight. You and San had picked up dinner earlier on the way to the apartment, and with the clock hitting 8 p.m you started finishing up some assignments in your bed.

A few hours later, you felt yourself grow hungry though. So you peeled off the blanket, making your way to the kitchen. San wasn’t in the living room, probably asleep as he needed it for the exams tomorrow.

You made yourself cereal, eating it while leaning on the counter as you scrolled on your phone, before hearing San’s door open. You looked at him, hair messy and pajama pants on.

‘’We meet again’’ You chuckle at his comment, taking another bite of your cereal. You tried to hide how your mind flashed back to that one night, and what happened in particular.

‘’Hungry too?’’ You asked, turning your body around to face him as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

‘’Just thirsty’’ He said, eyes lingering on you a bit too long for you not to notice and you saw them drop to your lips for a few seconds before he put on a smile and started walking away.

You hummed in response, going back to your finishing your food when you heard him enter his room again.

Back in your room, you couldn’t help but think about him again. He looked extra good tonight, and you felt yourself grow needy for his touch.

And as if he felt your pull, you hear a knock on your door. ‘’San?’’ You asked, surprised at him entering.

‘’Can I join you?’’ He asked, making your eyes widen as you struggled to speak. You kept quiet for a bit, feeling as if minutes were going by before you uttered out the words.

‘’Yeah, sure’’

He smiled at you, getting in bed as he took your form in his arm. He was warm, you wondered if he ever felt cold with his body temperature.

You were a bit shocked, wondering where the change of feelings came from. ‘’You okay?’’

‘’Yeah, just needed this’’ He placed a kiss on your neck, lingering his lips on the spot a bit longer. Your breath hitched, feeling your body on fire as his hands were on your skin. You sighed, pulling him closer. You pulled the blanket over him so he was covered too, as his lips were pressed against your neck.

‘’Have you been…thinking about it?’’ Your voice was barely above a whisper, as you felt him smile in your neck.

‘’About what?’’ He teased.

‘’You know, the other night’’

There was no way he didn’t, with the way he lingered around you the past days, almost not leaving your side whenever you were together with him.

‘’I think about it more than friends should’’ He replies, towering over you as he held your chin in his palm. ‘’Late at night, when I figure you’re already asleep, or even in class when I get a text from you’’

His lips ghosted over yours, brushing against them but keeping enough distance so you weren’t able to kiss him. His other hand was around your waist, slowly bringing your bodies closer to each other. You could feel him growing against you, making you sigh as your eyes fluttered close.

‘’What do you think about’’ You asked, breathing heavily.

‘’The way your skin feels against mine’’ He started, his fingers brushing down to your lower back. ‘’The way you clench around me when you’re about to come, and what it’ll be like when I can have you shake under my touch again’’

‘’Do you think about it, baby? Does it get you off?’’ He added, a teasing smile on his face.

You shook your head no. ‘’Only you can get me off’’ You said, looking in his eyes to see them darken.

‘’Yeah? Only me?’’ He whispered against your lips, ‘’You’re mine, then, right?’’ He placed a peck on your lips, and you almost moaned because of his words.

‘’Say it, baby’’

‘’Yes, all yours’’ You whined, not able to lean in more because of his fingers holding your chin back. ‘’Please kiss me, San-’’

He pressed his lips against yours, hard. The grip on your waist kept you steady as he devoured your lips as if there was no next time. You were only wearing a t-shirt and panties, so it was easy for him to open up your legs, settling between them as he slowly started grinding into you

His hand went between your legs in no time, opening them up and humming in delight when he felt how wet you were. Without a warning, he pulled down your panties, taking them off you easily.

His finger gathered the wetness before moving to your clit, stimulating there as you moaned into his mouth, struggling to focus on kissing him as you was making you feel so good already. The pent-up sexual frustration finally seemed to settle down, making it feel so so good.

You pulled down his sweats and underwear before your hand wrapped around his erection, jerking him off lazily as he breathed out a sigh against your mouth. You noticed how much your touch affected him, wanting to hear more of it as you slowly pushed him backward, noticing his surprised face at your sudden moves.

‘’What are you doing?’’ He asked.

‘’Want to taste you’’

You got down on your knees, making him shift in position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Holding his thighs, before tracing your hand over the tattoo right above his knee your head went up to his tip, teasing slowly with kitten licks as he threw his head back.

One of his hands went to the back of your head, the other one behind him on the bed as he moaned out at the contact.

He was painfully hard, just looking at you on your knees for him, ready to take him as your mouth wrapped around his length.

‘’Good girl, fuck, just like that’’ He praised as you started bobbing your head up and down, taking him as far as you could without gagging. He was big, so it was hard not to.

You twirled your tongue around the tip, igniting a low groan from him that went straight to your core, before wrapping your hand around the part your mouth couldn’t get to.

He held your head steady as he slowly bucked into your mouth, mumbling a quick apology.

You looked up at him, and he swore he almost came on the spot when you swallowed around him while making eye contact.

‘’Fuck, don’t do that or I’ll come’’ He grunted, trying to keep composure as you tried your best to take more little by little.

‘’Come in my mouth, need to taste you’’ You said before focusing on his tip with your mouth as your hand did its work on the rest of his length. He looked so good, all fucked out because of your mouth, his wet hair falling on his head after he ran a hand through it.

You took him once again, tip hitting the back of your throat as you slightly gagged around him, making you moan out as he felt the vibrations. ‘’Y/n, ah, gonna come’’

‘’You sure I can come in your mouth?’’ The need for consent made your heart warm as you hummed around him, spurring him on even more before his breathing intensified, whimpers leaving his mouth as he shot his load down your throat, moaning in bliss.

You swallowed all of it, making him lean down as he placed a lustful kiss on your mouth.

‘’You did so well, hm?’’ He praised, before helping you get up.

You kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you sat on his lap. He hummed in delight, before swiftly shifting you two, sitting back with his back against the headboard as his hand fell on your ass, pulling it back as his tip teased your entrance.

‘’You want me now, huh?’’ He said, making you whine out a yes as you pushed your hips forward. ‘’Yeah? My good little girl wants a reward?’’ He massaged your ass, grinding your folds against his length as you were even able to get off like this.

You didn’t expect him to enter you so quickly though, feeling all of him inside you as he stretched you out. ‘’Answer me’’

‘’Yes, Sannie, please’’ You moaned, grinding against him as you felt him slowly move inside you, making your head fall back at the overwhelming pleasure.

He pushed you deeper into him, holding your waist steady as he started thrusting up from beneath you. He was insane, it made you crazy. His hand went up to your cheek, thumb placed against your lip before pushing it inside your mouth, making you moan as you looked into his eyes, taken over by pleasure.

He kept the pace, speeding up a bit when your moans got louder, igniting you got closer to the edge. He pulled the thumb out of your mouth, making you drop your head on his shoulder when he used it to rub slow circles on your clit.

He ground into you slower, the pace making you feel him everywhere. He kissed you, pushing in his tongue, silencing your moans as you could feel your high approaching.

‘’Hold it’’ He ordered, making you bite your lip as you struggled to.

‘’I can’t’’ You whimpered, not able to stop the pleasure, and you felt the high dangerously approaching, trying to focus on holding it back but failing miserably.

He stopped moving, feeling you clench more and more as it let him know you were almost too close, leaving you whining as he pulled out of you before turning you around, placing you on the bed and placing your lips on his. He kissed you intensely, before slipping inside again and continuing the circles on your clit.

‘’Ah- San, please let me-‘’ You weren’t able to finish the sentence, too consumed by the pleasure.

‘’Come’’ He simply said, snapping his hips into you faster as you let out a string of moans of his name. The pace was brutal, but delicious as it was exactly what you needed right now, to let him fuck the stress out of you.

You let the pleasure take over, finally able to release as he stilled inside of you, grinding you through your orgasm as he kissed your throat. With a few more snaps of his hips, combined with the clenching you did around him and the beautiful moans of yours filling his ears, he came deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his come.

Your breaths were heavy, coming back from the extreme high you just had. San pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your lips as he smiled against them. Your heart swelled at his soft touch, stroking your sides in an attempt to soothe your sore skin.

‘’You did so good’’ He said, placing another kiss on your cheek, making you blush as you hid your face in his neck. Skin-to-skin like this felt like you were lovers, two people who shared this kind of intimacy to another level.

He pulled out of you a few minutes later, making you wince. He left the room, and your eyes were fighting to stay open. When he came back, you had failed, flinching at the feeling of a wet towel between your thighs.

‘’Just cleaning you up’’ He said, before walking back to throw the towel in the laundry.

‘’Wanna sleep in my bed? We should change these sheets tomorrow’’ He chuckled, making you nod with a smile on your face as he pulled you up in his arms, carrying you to his room before handing you one of his shirts to wear, just like you always did.

He crawled in beside you after he put on fresh boxers, before pulling you close to his warm body.

And you hated it, but you could feel yourself leaning into him more and more, every day you spent with him. He was your best friend and someone who knew you best, so you just hoped that this whole situationship wouldn’t affect your feelings towards him enough that it would eventually hurt you or him.

But maybe it was already too late for that.

@atxxzist surprise🤭

#ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez angst #san fanfic #choi san fluff #choi san #ateez san #san #san smut #san angst #ateez fanfic #san x reader #san fluff #san imagine #choi san smut

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lure-of-writing · 1 month

Text

Where my soul can rest

Rhysand x reader

word count: 2.6k

Warnings: heartbreak

Authors note: Hii! this was heavily inspired by Ariana grandes song "I wish I hated you" but actor version. Let me know what you think! and as always your support is super appreciated! (I did write a little update on the reader if you would like that also)

You had been Rhysands first love and he, yours. You had spent the first hundred years of your life with him as friends, always dancing on the line of something more but never daring to cross the line in fear of what would happen if something went wrong. If it wasn’t for Cassian's and Azriel's timed intervention you would have never gotten the honor of being loved by your high lord.

Deep down you knew that crossing that invisible line that separated friendship from romantic relationship was a terribly bad idea but when the opportunity had presented itself you couldn’t help but throw yourself into the whirlwind of being Rhysands lover. Something about it was so intoxicating. Loving him was like feeling the high of every drug and tonic that existed without ever having to feel any of the side effects or more importantly never having to come off the high that was loving him.

There was a part of your mind that was constantly nagging you about how terribly this could all end. How in a moment's notice everything you had ever loved could be ripped out from beneath your feet and there wouldn’t be anything you could do to stop it. It truly was your worst nightmare but everytime you would voice your fears to Rhysand he would gently cup your cheeks and kiss along the path made by the tears that had rained upon your face whilst promising nothing would ever take him away from you, and each time you believed him. You had believed him because he was so convincing and his eyes were so full of love. How could you not believe him?

Over the course of almost five hundred years together you had been through every trial and tribulation and had always come out on the other side successful. That was until Rhysand was trapped under the mountain with no way of escaping for fifty years. In that time Velaris had been hidden away from the world and left to survive on its own. With Rhysand gone it was up to you and the rest of the inner circle to protect Velaris and keep it afloat. So without hesitation that's what you did. For years you took care of the people and city making sure to deal with any threat before it could make its way to the beloved city.

Rhysands return was abrupt and unexpected but certainly welcomed. Running through the house of wind you round the corner to see your lover standing in the living room surrounded by the rest of your family. Silently you watched from afar as everyone welcomed him home. Tears once again found the familiar route they’ve taken plenty of time in the last fifty years, down your face. Slowly you made your way to the center of the room where everyone gathered, not approaching too quickly in case this was a dream and he would be gone if you made any sudden movements.

Once on the edge of the small crowd you could truly take in the male in front of you. One look at him and you could tell that whatever happened under there had changed him. But nonetheless this was Rhysand, your Rhysand. The man you had loved your whole life and finally after so long he was standing in front of you again.

He reached for your arm and gently tugged you into his chest where you finally broke down and let the tears reconstruct the routes along your face and the sobs rack your body. He held you in his arms, face pressed into his chest while his arm wrapped around your back squeezing your body further into his and his other arm rested against the top of your back while his hand rested in your hair. Rhysand hoped you couldn’t feel his heart breaking with the knowledge that what the two of you once had would soon be no more, for he had finally found his mate.

For weeks after Rhysands return you could feel that something was off but you had just brushed it off as anyone who had just spent fifty years trapped underneath a mountain, with a crazy dictator as a ruler, would also be a little off. Unfortunately for you that nagging voice in the back of your head had reappeard and its confidence had grown since the last time it had paid you a visit. But it was not the time to dwell on the unconfident thoughts your subconscious had decided to hand over to the conscious part of your mind. Now was not the time for Rhysand to comfort you and tell you everything would be alright. No, right now you needed to be there for him in the form of absolute unwavering love and support so you fiercely pushed those thoughts back into the abyss in the back of your mind where thoughts go to die.

If there was one thing Rhysand was, it was a hard worker. So it came as no surprise to you when upon his return he hit the ground running and had resumed his role as high lord. No one would have judged him for needing some time to heal from the trauma he had endured but he insisted now was not the time for rest. Now was the time to pick up the pieces from Amarantha. Each morning you watched as Rhysand left to fix whatever thing he had deemed broken and it never came as a shock to you when he left before the sun had even risen and returned when the moon had taken over for its daily shift.

What did come as a surprise was when Morrigan had returned from the moonstone palace with tears in her eyes. “Mor? What's wrong?” your questions hit her like thousand pound bricks that had been hurtled at her. The pure concern in your voice had made her want to cry. Never had she thought Rhysand would find someone who wasn’t you but she had just returned from meeting Feyre and it made her want to vomit. In the empty halls of the moonstone palace Rhysand had begged his cousin for her to be the one to tell you of Feyres existence, of her relationship to Rhysand. Never once had Rhys ever asked anything from her and without a doubt she would do anything for him but this was a burden that was too heavy for her to handle by herself. But Rhysand had been by her side in her darkest moments so she would be by him during his darkest moment. “Y/n I need to tell you something but first you need to sit down.” Mor watched as your face shifted from concern to fear. She watched as you took residence in the nearest set and looked at her expectantly. Morrigan made her way over to you and silently kneeled before you placing her hands upon your legs and prayed to the mother above that what she was about to tell you wouldn’t destroy you. Deep down she knew her prayers were not going to be answered. “I have to tell you something. But I need you to listen to me no matter how much it hurts to hear. No matter how much it breaks your heart, ok?” Mor moved her hands to yours and gently rubbed circles against the back of your hand. Heavens know you will need the support.

“Y/n.” The tone of her voice had your heart thumping against the cage of your ribs. If you weren’t scared before then you certainly were now. With a shaky breath she started again. “Y/n. Rhysand found his mate. She's the girl who freed them from the mountain. Eventually” you heard nothing more as a loud ringing sound overtook your hearing and you practically collapsed on top of Mor while sobs ripped through your body. Morrigan held you as the sounds of your soul breaking rattled off the walls piercing her heart. She rocked you back and forth while smoothing your hair down until you fell asleep from exhaustion and heart break. The sounds of your heart broken cries will haunt her in her sleep. Morrigan refused to move from her spot on the floor where your body had curled into hers in fear of waking you up and forcing you to relive your heart break. Mor didn’t look up as she felt the presence of her cousin in the room. She didn’t look up as he crouched down and gently moved the hair covering your face to behind your ear. She didn’t look as he took in your disheveled appearance and tear stained cheeks that matched while he had a look of pain painted across his own face. She loved her cousin but a part of her knew she would never forgive him for the hurt he has caused you. There may even be a part of her that hates him for what he did. And Rhysand knew it too.

From then on out you had made it a point to avoid your past lover. Morrigan had carried you to her room where you slept for the rest of the night and into the early morning. Silently you made your way to what once was your shared bedroom to find it empty much to your relief. Without asking, the house had helped you move your items into a spare bedroom where you spent the next three days hiding from the inner circle while packing what was important to you and getting rid of what wasn’t. By the fourth day you were ready to leave everything was packed and all you had to do was say goodbye. As much as it would pain you to leave the people you had called family for your whole life you knew you couldn’t stay, it would be far too painful. And you weren’t willing to torture yourself everyday for the rest of your life just to be able to be around your family. You could love them from afar. From a place with enough distance that you could not run back when the overwhelming sense of heartbreak became too much.

Rhysand knew you were avoiding him and he couldn’t blame you. If he had been in your position he was sure he would do the same but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. If there was one last thing Rhys could do for you, it was give you the chance to have a peaceful goodbye with the rest of your family without him there. But he did ask that Azriel and Cassian inform him when you were done with your goodbyes. He had a lot of regrets in his life but not saying goodbye to you wasn’t going to be one of them. He was sure that he was the last person you wanted to see but after nearly five hundred years together there was no way he was letting you go without seeing you one last time. Even if it was the most selfish thing he has ever done.

You could feel his presence in the room as you had gripped Morrigan in a bittersweet hug goodbye. Pulling back she takes in the unshed tears lining your eyes and it takes everything in her to be strong for you. “Go out there and make me proud, yeah?” There would never be a moment when she wasn’t proud of you but you knew she meant was go out there and do more than survive this heartbreak, thrive because you are more than capable. Nodding you quickly wipe the fallen tears “Don’t I always?” Morrgian gave your hands one last tight squeeze and reluctantly let go. Stepping back you take in the people who have made up your family for centuries, for one last time before moving to the balcony where Rhysand followed you out. For a while nothing was said, just the wind whispering quiet nothings as it brushed past your face while Rhys soaked up what he was sure to be his last moments with you. “I am so incredibly sorry it happened this way but I can’t let.” you refused to let him finish what he was going to say. “I know.”

“You know that even with all of this, I still love you. There will always be a part of me that loves you.” slowly you pull your gaze away from the setting sun to look at him. “I know.” It was silent for a few moments, neither of you not sure what to say. Finally he got the courage to speak up. “I know you probably hate me right now. Hell, I would also hate me if I were you. You had always had your fears about what would happen should this day ever come and each time I told you not to worry because nothing could ever take me from you but I was wrong. I was so so wrong and it wasn’t right of me to pretend like this situation wasn’t a possibility. I know that no matter how many times I tell you I am sorry it will never make up for the hurt I have put you through. All I ask is that one day when you find the forgiveness in your heart and peace in your soul you come and visit us. Our family will never be the same without you.”

“I wish I hated you. I really wish I did.” All Rhysand could do was nod at your confession as much as it broke his heart he knew he had no room to ask for forgiveness. “There was always some part of me that knew we weren’t meant to be but that doesn’t make it hurt less. In some ways it makes it hurt more knowing this end was inevitable. I can’t say that I will ever forgive you for what you have done but no matter how I feel about that I only wish the best for you. You deserve it. There is a part of me that wishes none of this happened, that I could keep you to myself and continue to live in that peaceful bliss with you but I would hate myself from keeping you from her.” Rhysand watched as the gold sun danced upon your face and reflected from your eyes and the tears lining them.

“Our paths were never meant to cross like they have. We were always better off as friends. We both know that. So go live the life you deserve with the girl of your dreams.” Rhys' eyes tracked the rouge tear that gently slid down your cheek. Seeing you stand so brave in the face of heartbreak while refusing to yield to the waves that pummeled you relentlessly in overpowering emotions made a small part of him proud to see you so strong but another part was saddened by the fact he did this to you. “And what about you?” shrugging you turn to face the fading sun. The irony was not lost on you, of the sun's departure along with your impending one. “And what about me?” you glance at him over your shoulder “Where will you go? What will you do? How will we know if you're safe?” for a moment you thought of an answer to give to your oldest friend but all the answers evaded you. “I will go where my soul can find rest and my heart can repair itself. Other than that I have no answers. I will find the rest as I go and figure it out along the way.”

That was the last time anyone in the inner circle had seen you.

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #rhysand angst #rhysand imagine #rhysand oneshot

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rainswept · 5 days

Text

counting backwards — throwing muses. 0.8k words.

Fog has found a comfortable residence nestled in Aventurine’s brain—a bustling one, strangling clear thoughts and fond reminiscence and expertly avoiding those gnawing memories he wished it would swallow.

He looks into the mirror, he shows his teeth. He hopes, to others, it looks like a smile and not a snarl—though, to him, he still looks afraid, and he swears he can still see the yellowing he had earned after so long of not being able to care for them (despite how the gold of his wealth had cancelled it out long ago and chased it off).

It was voracious, clamoring like a starved man, armed with an achingly empty stomach at all times; it was nimble, and it trembled whenever he did—with hunger, sickness, the cold, or fear, he didn’t know, it was a toss up—skin melded to bone. Yet, as much as it ate at his clairvoyance, it didn’t grow—it just… lingered, in the corner of his cluttered head, emaciated and shaking. It stared at him. It had his eyes, and the same blond hair.

He keeps practicing. He wants his expression to be bright like a future that is looking up, like the sun during the first glimpse of it after rain, and infectious—but it was bright like a warning sign, like the sun beating down on an arid and drought-stricken desert, and diseased. That wouldn’t do. His sight was bleary, and his hair was a mess, and he fell asleep in last night’s clothes; nothing about him screamed refined or expensive or high quality or worth anything at all.

It felt fearful, in a way, but it cared for its host just as the weather outside did. Maybe even less. It rained for Kakavasha, but this? This didn’t change for a thing. All it did was fast forward the time on the clock. All it did was steal from him, little by little, thread by thread, coin by coin, unraveling, rusting, wasting. But that was fine. He had money and memories to give now. He had the means to feed both himself and it. He was generous—he always was, but now he could truly afford to be without sacrifice.

For as long and well as he had played the role of carefully crafted, embellished with gold and beholding bones of wrought iron, every rotting rope making him up was one rainstorm away from snapping.

Speaking of Kakavasha, he didn’t remember much of him. All that lingered was the fear, because as much as he washed the blood—his kin, his kills—off of himself, that little frayed part of him, wide-eyed and with no more tears to cry, remained playing dead under its current.

He combs out any tangles sleep had imparted in the strands of his hair. He washes it out—the scent of the soap doesn’t take long to leave him with a headache, so he rinses and replaces it with equally migraine-inducing conditioner. He combs through it until he no longer looks unkempt or unwell.

That fog is still here. He should remind himself to grab his keys, just in case.

He hooks his finger in the corner of his mouth, pulls it back a bit further to check for any plaque or pieces of food left on his molars. There is none. He keeps looking. He straightens out his clothes, stares and bores holes into every last crevice that could hide a tell. He stares and stares. He remembers a time when he had no reflection, only sand and kin, only a guess at what he looked like. That was long ago.

In the mirror, when he still only saw himself in the faces of his family, mauve hair fell, and her voice still echoes: “What’s worth more to you, Kakavasha—the life in your veins, or the gaze you share with those incinerated bodies?”

What is more important to you, Kakavasha, the blood that keeps your heart that deserves nothing but death beating, or the blood that makes you Avgin, that ties you by something indisputable to the only thing you ever learned how to cherish?

That was what she meant. It was a stupid question.

He fixes his shirt one last time. He grabs his keys.

He knew how to answer, then, and he still does now, because he would drain his arteries of every last drop if it meant seeing them unpainted with theirs again—for the color to return to their faces, the life to their dull eyes—

He closes the door behind him with a soft click.

But that can’t happen. So he will continue to dress his wounds, cut his losses, and survive, until he inevitably joins them.

(He will never join them. They are dust, scattered in fragments across space. He will be buried in a lavish coffin.)

#rainswept #aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #<- idk i guess #not really but it can be seen as an add on to the series… so whatever

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fever-fluff · 5 months

Text

Part I - Quick as a Fox

word count: 2.3k (not proof read)

will contain spoilers for the ACOTAR series

“What could Rhysand possibly need that would be out here, Shadowsinger.” Lucien’s voice was thick with disdain, swatting another branch from the thick brush they walked through.

“Scared of getting you breeches a little dirty, Lucien? Doesn’t seem like you do well in the dirt.” Azriel’s sneer was no better, and the innuendo about Elain did not fly past Lucien so easily.

“Believe me, its not the first time I’ve gotten it on my knees, maybe you’d like to hear all about my time in the garden last week-” Lucien was quick to block the fist aiming for his gut, but it threw him off balance all the same, soft ground beneath him not much to grip.

Azriel came at him again, “Shut your filthy mouth, Vanserra.” Lucien just laughed at the male’s brazen behaviour towards the female he’d tried to snatch for himself. It had been months now since the last solstice, and the catastrophe of the necklace had caused a rift between Azriel and Elain that Lucien had, without regret, used to his advantage. Elain was mated to him, and he’d agreed to Rhys’ wish of not inciting a blood rite over the shadowsingers obvious display of disrespect.

He had not pushed Elain in the slightest with his affections, but he had made it clear they were there. And after finding a bitterness under all that façade of sweet, Lucien had coaxed it out. It turned out she had more in common with Nesta than they’d all first thought, and he relished in the fire when she let it out.

The two tumbled as they fought, both to engrossed in getting another blow to the others face when they stumbled down a concealed ridge. They had separated just as the reached the bottom, and went to got at it again until Lucien noticed what they’d fallen into.

“Mother above”

Azriel looked to what was behind him, sucking in a breath and the grove of statues they’d landed in. “What the damned is this place?” walking around, the two noticed now that they were not statues, but petrified bodies of fae of all kinds. Lucien stopped in front of a certain one, loosing a shudder as he recognised the face in front of him. “I can’t be…”

Azriel joined his side, analysing the kneeling figure in from of him. The arms were twisted as if two fae had hold of her while the magic took effect. A sneer crossed her features, and he felt a shiver as he though of what it might have looked like in flesh. There was pure hatred in those eyes, and the snarl of her lips was something that he’d only seen on the most animalistic of his kind. Though she looked to be high fae, with pointed sharp ears, her demeanour was something he’d place in a wild beast.

“We need to free her.” “Are you mad?!” Lucien had already turned and began sifting through his sack, pulling viles as he went. “Lucien, who the Hel is she?!” he started mixing different liquids together, the mixture turning all different shades of different colours too quick for Azriel to catch.

“Someone who may be able to help.” “Hah…?”

Before Azriel could stop him, Lucien poured the new potion on to the top of the statue, and waited as it took effect. It was a simple reversal but depending on the depth of the initial fae's magic when she had been petrified, the time to undo the curse was debatable.

So they sat a respectable distance apart, and watched the statue like hawks. The sun had started to dip in the sky by the time they noticed the stone slowly shift, and a pale complexion took its place. Her chest began to slowly rise and fall, and a flutter of her eyelids became stronger as the hours passed on.

The moon had taken its place in the sky, and both males had drifted off into the land of the unconscious until they heard harsh coughing. The statue, now skin, moved achingly while the faes body returned to normal. Lucien cautiously moved towards her with a canister of water, “Fox, its alright, we’re not here to harm you...” The slap of the canister from Lucien’s hand was quick and strong, too strong for someone who had atrophied for mother only knows how long now. What was even more miraculous was the speed she moved towards the brush to their right, finding a small stream to gulp out of heavily. Azriel made to move on her, but Lucien held his hand up as a signal to wait, “don’t spook her, unless you don’t like having limbs anymore.”

Once she’d had her fill, she turned her eyes to the two of them, and he could have sworn they flickered between a serpent’s slits to the fae oval. As she spoke, her voice cracked from years of disuse, but he could hear the power she could wield it with, “I suggest you both start talking before you have no more tongues to do so.”

Azriel’s responding growl was low, truth-teller now grasped in his hand as he etched closer to her, “you shouldn’t make threats you can’t follow through on, bitch. In your state, this is going to go only one way. With your throat at my bla-”

Too fast. Way too fast for someone only after waking from such a long prison did the woman lunge for Azriel, snapping at his wrist with both hands and knocking the knife from his hand. He didn’t have time to reach for another as her body morphed, twisting into muscle and scales, wrapping round his body and wings and tightening instantly. She’d wrapped the latter half of her body round him like a snake, leaving her upper body in the fae state and sneered when he choked for air as she squeezed, “what was that? Sorry, I cant hear you over your own spit.”

“Fox, let him go, please.” Lucien had backed up, hands in surrender. Her gaze moved to him, and the recognition that lanced through her eyes did nothing to ease the grip she had on Azriel’s body. “I never thought I’d see a child of autumn beg for the life of an Illyrian.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know. But the High Lord of Night won’t take it well if you kill his spymaster on my watch.” Finally, she eased herself off, and Aziel gasped for the precious air he’d missed. She’d put a reasonable amount of distance between them all, still on guard with how the serpentine part of her body coiled like a spring. Once he’d finally reached his feet again, she started looking for answers, “How long have I been asleep? How do you know who I am?”

“If my brother’s words are something to go off of, half a century, maybe more.” Lucien flashed her that goddamned smile, “I’m Lucien, Beron’s youngest son.”

That didn’t seem to placate her like he’d hoped, and Lucien wasn’t quick enough to move away from her attack. Talons retched from her fingernails, and she had him in her grip before he even had a chance to realise. “I suggest you keep his name out of your mouth, child, before I really do rip out your tongue.”

“He’s telling the truth, he’s a Vanserra.” Azriel wouldn’t make it in time to stop her if she made for his neck. She snorted, “And what makes you think I would believe a word that comes out of your mouth, Shadowsinger.” Shit, she’d caught on to his shadows. He pulled them back from the two, holding up his hands in the fashion Lucien had before. “You know who I am?”

“Everyone knows the little toy the High Lord of Night uses in his arsenal of weapons, though congrats on the promotion. Spymaster seems fitting for your type of… constitution.”

She’s turned her attention back to the redhead lying beneath her, “If you are telling the truth, my lord won’t be too happy if I slit this lovely, tanned neck of yours. So, I suggest you both stay where you are until I am far enough away to not turn back and change my mind.”

“wha-”

She was gone before the two could blink.

“What in gods damned was that, Lucien?!” Azriel’s anger was far beyond livid. But the autumn male simply stood, rubbing at his neck, still feeling the ghost of her claws on his skin.

“Her name’s fox. She’s been missing since before the war. One of the most dangerous fae Beron ever had under his control. He used to tell me stories of her, to scare me into going to bed.”

“And you didn’t think waking her would be a bad idea, considering she has no clue who you are?!” Lucien winced under his tone, “I thought she’d smell that we were related, nothing gets past her senses. But I suppose I really didn’t think…”

“Rhysand is gonna be pissed, you realise this?” Azriel started to pace. If they really had released something like that with no safeguards, nothing to stop her from returning to Autumn, they could be in for a lot more trouble with Beron than they first expected.

“Yea, I know.” The two made to go back to Velaris, winnowing silently.

Quick. Quick as a fox. You need to be fast, faster than anything that might catch you. His voice rang in your ears as you sprinted through the thicket, four paws pushing silently off the ground at each lurch of your body. Come on, fox. I know you’re faster than that. The hounds are going to rip you to shreds if they catch you, I wont hold them back. Gods, you needed to run. If you were still in the grove, that meant you were only one court away from Autumn, the winter court.

Sure enough, a border of ice and snow came into view, and the fur you wore changed from the fire red of his hair to the white of winter. They’d never feel you breach the border; animals came and went as seasons changed, even in the eternal courts. And your winter body would blend you into one of them long enough for you to pass through unnoticed. You’d run, run as fast as you could until you reached him.

Five hundred years you haven’t been watching from the shadows. Watching and waiting. You knew the day they took you he wouldn’t look for you. You had failed him, had gotten caught. You are my fox, quick and sly. But if you get caught in a snare, there will be nothing I can do to stop the hunters from claiming their game.

Hours had passed until you reached the land of Autumn, and your body returned to the red that you never forgot in your imprisonment. It was all you could remember of him, that and his cruel disposition. You had forgotten his eyes, but never the feeling as they landed on you with cold contempt.

You made for the cabin on the base of the mountains. You knew he’d keep it warded. And all you had to do was cross the threshold and he’d come for you.

Being encased in that stone should have turned you mad, but the hot anger you had been laced with for the change had kept you burning with sanity. You would be no good to him if you’d freed yourself and come back with no wits. So it had burned, for year upon year, until the red head idiot decided he knew who you were and released you.

He hadn’t smelt like Beron, you’d checked. Lady of Autumn, sure, but Beron was no where in his blood. You wondered what happened there.

The cabin was in sight when you felt your legs give out. Shifting back, you wobbled on fae legs to the front of the porch. But you couldn’t sit. If he came and couldn’t remember you, you’d have to make fast work at fleeing before he decided you were a threat to his oasis.

It didn’t take long for the beating of hooves and the pounding of paws to reach your ears. Light flickered in the distance, one lone torch among the forest of orange and yellow.

Standing steady, you raised your head as the face you’d forgotten became clear. Gods, now that it was in front of you again, you realised it had never left you. It haunted your dreams, your nightmares, and every waking moment you sat kneeling in that grove. You'd only forgotten that it was real, and not a figment of your trapped mind.

Nothing was said as the hounds came charging, ready to tear whatever decided to breach their master’s property. But the wave of scent you let wash over you had them stopping in their tracks. Now unsure of whether you were truly the threat they were first ordered to rid.

“State your business, before I am no longer lenient with my dogs’ lag.” He voice sounded harder than you could think to remember. You hated it, wondering what he'd done in the time you were gone to sound like that. But you bowed deep, knee hitting the wood beneath you in reverence, “my lord.”

You didn’t dare lift your head, couldn’t bear it if you looked up and saw nothing of recognition in his eyes. But the sharp inhale, small enough that only you would ever hear it, loosed the fear filling your chest. “Fox?” you smiled.

“It’s been a long time, Eris.”

#pro eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra angst #eris vanserra #autumn court #acotar fandom #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #lucien vanserra #beron vanserra #high lord eris #high lord of autumn

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

Text

Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!

Summary: After a long last week, Javi takes you out to celebrate the end of the school year. Even when things don't go according to his plans, you're convinced you've never been on a better date.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (wrap it up, y'all), phone sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, masturbation (m and f), mentions of panic/anxiety, mentions of food/eating, subpar Spanish (my 4 years of high school Spanish don't take up a lot of space in my brain, I apologize) Javi being our consent king, Javi caring so much about you it physically hurts me

Word Count: 14.1K (I didn't realize how long this was until I finished)

A/N: YOU GUYS. When I started doing this, I just wanted to write for fun and posted thinking that no one would read this, let alone be invested in it 🥺 Y'all are so sweet, thank you so much!! This was another fun chapter to write, I'm thinking I have some good ideas about what these two are up to next!!

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Javier Peña had always been a light sleeper. Even as a kid, he would wake up to the sound of a stray footstep wandering through his home, or the wind rustling the tree outside his bedroom window. Once he got to Colombia, it was like he never slept at all. Since coming home, his dreams were plagued with the violent images of his past, causing him to thrash and toss in his sleep, waking up sweaty and breathless. But last night, he slept next to you. Your warmth and presence draped over him provided a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time he could remember since coming back, Javi actually slept. When he woke up Monday morning to the sound of his alarm, he so desperately wished to have rolled over and found you, to wrap himself around you and ground himself. To smell the warm and fruity scent of your hair, to kiss your soft skin, to take in every detail about how your body seemed to impossibly take up every corner of the bed, despite your small stature. This morning, Javi had to settle for the emptiness of his childhood bedroom, begrudgingly preparing himself for the very long 4 days ahead of him until he could see you again.

He got out of bed, following his usual routine of brushing his teeth, shaving and showering, the emptiness of his bathroom making him wish you were there to serenade him with your cute sing-alongs as you both got ready.

After he was dressed, he headed out into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and sit on the back porch, overlooking their acres of farmland and the impending sunrise. During Javi’s time away, Chucho had hired help at the ranch, now relieving Javi of having to get up at some God awful hour to feed animals or move cows from one pasture to another. Even in his older age, it didn’t stop his father from getting up every morning at 4:25 AM to make sure things stayed running smoothly on the ranch. Normally, he and his father’s morning schedules didn’t overlap, sometimes getting the occasional good morning in passing as they headed to their prospective jobs. This morning, Javi had to check his watch to make sure he wasn’t late for work, realizing his Dad had finished his morning chores almost a half hour early. He must have seen that Javi’s car finally made its way back to the driveway when he got up. Javi knew his dad would confront him about the weekend at some point, he just didn’t think it was going to be at 6:27 this morning.

Chucho walked up the steps of the back porch, sitting down next to Javi on the top step. “Morning, Pops.” Javi took a sip of his coffee.

“Glad to see you made it back. I was getting close to sending a search party out for you, Hijo.” He chuckled, seeing that Javi’s face was already starting to get red. “Seems like it must have been a good weekend then, huh?”

“Yeah, it was uh, it was a really good weekend.”

“Good. I’m glad, son. The way I watched you smile on Saturday… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like that.”

“Yeah. She makes me really happy, Pop.” He reached down for another sip of his coffee, Chucho keeping quiet, in hopes to get more out of him. “I uh, I asked her to be my girlfriend. I know it seems really fast but… I don’t know, Dad. There’s something about her. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.”

Chucho placed his hand on Javi’s shoulder. “Sometimes Mijo, you just know.” Javi shifted his gaze from his reflection in his coffee mug to the soft smile of his father. In that moment, it was like a weight had been lifted off of Javi’s shoulders. He couldn’t quite describe what it was. Was it the fact that he could tell how happy his dad was for him? That he had found someone who liked him for who he was? That it wasn’t too late to prove he deserved the life he wanted before he left for Colombia all those years ago?

“Thanks, Pops. She’s special.”

“I can tell she is, Javier. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

“She already told me she wants to come and meet the animals. Tried to buy a bag of carrots when we went grocery shopping so she could make sure the horses liked her.” They both laughed to themselves.

“That was how I got su mamá to come to the ranch for the first time. She told me I was fine, but los animales were the only reason she really wanted to come over. It all seemed to work out okay.” Chucho patted Javier on the shoulder, before grunting as he stood up. “You going to see her again soon?”

“Thursday. Taking her out to celebrate her last day of school.”

Chucho smilied. “Ah, yes. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres. (Don't talk to me until the children are free). I’m happy for you, Javier. All me and your mamá ever wanted for you was that.”

Chucho huffed as he took a step on to the deck and walked his way into the house. Javi smiled to himself, repeating his fathers words in his head.

Sometimes, you just know.

You knew Monday was going to suck. It was inevitable. It had been so long since you had slept in the same bed with someone, after just one night of being with Javi, you found yourself tossing and turning, craving his body in your bed. To top off your not so great night’s sleep, you realized you had forgotten to set your alarm, made no food for your lunch, and hadn’t set your coffee to brew for when you woke up. Scrambling, you started a pot and threw whatever lunch-like items you could find into your lunch box, hoping that maybe you would have the appetite for one of them later. Not having enough time to shower, you threw your hair up in a bun, found a dress (since it was easier than having to pick out a top and bottoms), grabbed your things and raced down to your car. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much you had to prep when you got in- there wasn’t planned since it was the last week of school. But, you did have to have your room packed for summer cleaning before Thursday. You were planning on doing the majority of it on Thursday afternoon since the kids had a half day in the morning, but knowing you had plans with a very handsome someone later on that night, you were trying to get as much done as possible.

Just as you assumed, your room was in absolute chaos as your students entered, like they could feel it in their bones that summer was almost here. You couldn’t have been more thankful to have music and gym this morning, sending the kids on their way shortly after they arrived, leaving you alone again with the sweet sound of silence in your room. Well, at least for a few minutes.

Knock, knock, knock

You had closed your door on purpose, hoping it would give the hint that you didn’t want people to come talk to you during your planning time, but the door meant absolutely nothing to the 3 ladies peeking in through your window, frantically ushering you to come open it for them. You should have known it was going to happen.

“Hola, mijaaaaaaa.” Estelle greeting you with a smirking smile. The other two ladies snickered behind her.

“Hi, you guys.” You responded as they made yourself at home at the large table you had at the front of your room.

“Sooooo, how was the rest of your weekend?” Linda asked, raising her eyebrows at you.

“It was good.” You responded, at least trying to make them work a little harder before you shared your news with them.

“Cut to the chase, Mija. What happened with you and Javier?! We are dying to know. I tried to call, but Chucho is too good of a man to gossip with us, so we have been left high and dry since Saturday night.” Of course Maria would have no problem not beating around the bush to get the answers they needed.

“We spent the rest of the weekend hanging out together. He offered to run errands with me on Sunday and we watched a movie before he left to go home last night. We had a really good time.”

“How good of a time? There’s a very large gap between you leaving on Saturday and going shopping on Sunday.” Maria was invested in you two like a weeknight telenovela. The other two ladies shot her glaring looks, knowing she was the only one bold enough to ask the question.

“Maria! Considering we’re inside an elementary school right now, I’m keeping it PG. We had a lot of fun, that’s all I will say.”

“Fine, fine, fine.”

You paused for a moment, blushing before dropping the next bit of information. “He um, he asked me to be his girlfriend too.”

You blushed as the women shrieked in delight at the news. “No puedo creerlo!” (I can’t believe it) Estelle screeched. “Digame (tell me), how did it happen?”

You knew they were about to have a field day with your answer. “Well, um, it actually kind of happened because of Lorriane.”

Their faces went stone cold. They began whispering to each other in frantic Spanish.

“Esa mujer está un punta loco…” (That woman is a crazy bitch…)

“Yo se, Maria, dèjala hablar!” (I know Maria, let the girl talk!)

“Quiero saber qué pasó, shhh!” (I want to know what happened, shhh!)

“Well, um, we were out shopping for a birthday present for my niece. Her and her family ended up being in front of us in line when we went to check out and she realized Javi was behind her. She asked who I was and before I could answer for myself, he introduced me as his girlfriend. She’s um… something.”

The women paused before saying anything else.

“Javi told me about what happened with them, don’t worry.”

“If she said anything to you, mija, don’t let it bother you. That woman is ruthless.”

“I know, I kinda picked that up after talking to her.” You grimaced your face. “But I guess I owe her a thank you because it really speeded up the whole him asking me out thing!” The ladies smiled again, recognizing your genuine happiness when talking about Javi.

“We are so happy for you, mija. Really, you both deserve each other.” Linda chimed in.

“So, are you going to see him again soon?” Estelle asked, prodding for more information.

“Not until Thursday. He’s taking me out to celebrate the last day of school, we’re going to dinner and a movie.”

The ladies swooned. “So sweet mjia. He’s already doing more for you than mí marido (husband) has ever done for me on the last day of school. He just looks at me and tells me he’s glad I’m not grumpy anymore.”

“Yeah, it was really sweet of him. I’m really excited for it.”

“Congrats, sweetheart. We really are so happy for you.”

“Don’t think you’re escaping until August to give us an update. We know Chucho, his papá, will keep us up to speed.” Maria winked as the ladies started to get up out of their seats. “Well now that we know you have a busy day coming up, we’ll let you get back to packing.”

The ladies were almost out the door when Maria popped her head back in. “You tell Javi I’ll make good on my promise to him. He breaks your heart, I will run him over with his father’s tractor.” You snorted, picturing the tiny woman rage driving a heavy piece of machinery.

“I wouldn’t put it past you Maria.”

She smiled as she closed the door behind her. You stared around the contents of your room before picking up another box. You better pick up your packing speed.

You practically collapsed as you opened the door to your apartment. Today had been a LONG day. You left for work at 7:00 AM, and were now finally returning home to your apartment at 7:50 PM. Whoever decided to cram every single end of the year activity into the last week of school needed to be seriously evaluated. Yesterday was the annual teachers vs. 5th graders kickball game as a way to celebrate before they were off to middle school, and tonight was the school music concert. The thought of having to go to the Alma Pierce Carnival tomorrow made you want to cry in exhaustion. Only two more days until Thursday.

You disregarded your usual routine of neatly putting all of your things in their rightful home before doing anything else, opting to drop everything by the door in a pile and crawl your way to take a shower. Stripping your clothes and throwing them in the hamper, you turned on the shower and cranked up the heat. Waiting for the water to warm, you looked at Javi’s toothbrush, still sitting next to yours in the cup on your sink. Now finally having a second for your brain to turn off of school mode, the sight of Javi’s toothbrush flooded you with three different feelings all at once.

You missed him like crazy

You couldn’t wait to see what he had planned for Thursday

You were hornier than a middle school boy on the brink of puberty

After going so long without sex (at most, it had been 5 times in the past 2 plus years), you had almost written it off as an afterthought. That was until Saturday, when Javier Peña causally decided to blow your mind with the best sex of your entire life, on repeat. As you stepped into the shower, you pictured where Javi stood only a few days ago, his tanned, muscular, very naked body soaping you up in your favorite body wash. You spent the rest of your shower wishing he was the one scrubbing the shampoo and conditioner into your hair, imagining his hands would eventually travel out of your hair to somewhere else.

You wrapped yourself up in your towel after emerging out of the shower, the sight of his toothbrush once again only making the ache between your legs more and more present. God, how bad did you have it that even his freakin’ toothbrush was making you horny?! Stupid magic hands and magic dick.

As you went into your bedroom, you shuffled through the very back of your nightstand. Patting your hand around the back right corner you found what you were looking for. Please let this thing be charged, it hasn’t even been used in god knows how long, you hoped, pulling the small bullet vibrator out of your drawer. Holding down the power button, you were relieved to hear the low hum vibrating in your hand. You laid down on your bed, head propped up on the pillows as you brought the vibrator between your legs. Running it up and down your clit, you could feel how wet you already were, wishing Javi was the one rubbing his thumb against your sensitive nerves, his thick fingers pressing inside you as-

Ringggggg, ringggggg, ringggggg

The phone ringing startled you so badly, you practically flung your vibrator across the room. Breathing heavily, you wrapped yourself back up in your towel and ran to the phone. Considering you and your mom always talked on Wednesdays and your brothers didn’t call unless you called them, it left one probable answer of who it could be. You tried to compose yourself as the phone rang a few more times, beet red and sweating from embarrassment that the person probably calling you was the one you were just thinking about with a vibrator between your legs.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Osita.” The low, sweet voice made your heart sing.

“It’s good to hear your voice again. I missed you.”

“Missed yours too. Sorry you didn’t call yesterday, Pops needed extra help after I got home from work yesterday. Are- are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, why?” You obviously weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how flustered you were.

“You just… you sound like you’re out of breath?”

“Oh, yeah, I um, I just got out of the shower.” It wasn’t a lie.

“You’re out of breath from getting out of the shower?” The thought of you wet and naked made Javi’s cock twitch.

“No, well, um, not exactly.” You were glad Javi couldn’t see you from the other end of the phone as you facepalmed yourself, jumbling over your words.

“What’s goin’ on Osita?” Javi spoke with a sneaking suspicion. He didn’t want to assume what he was thinking, but given what he had done to relieve himself in his shower earlier this morning, he couldn’t help but hope you had been just as riled up as he was.

You let out an audible sigh. Before you could try and come up with an answer, Javi spoke again.

“Osita, it’s okay. You can tell me.” You couldn’t even see him, but even picturing his sweet, brown, puppy dog eyes was enough to make you spill your secrets in an instant. God, could this man read your mind?!

“Well, I don’t know, it’s dumb. I- I was in the shower and I was thinking about Sunday morning.”

“And?” You could practically hear his smirk through the phone.

“And I was thinking about you, in there, with me. How much I wished you were there”

Javi had to bite down on his lip from letting out an audible groan. “I wish I was there too, baby. What else were you thinking about?”

“How much I missed your hands. How much I wished they were touching me.”

Bingo. There it was.

Javi dipped another toe into the water, getting the green light on his suspicions. “Yeah? Wished I was touching you? Were you touching yourself, baby? Thinking about me?”

Your face was so flushed. You were already mentally making space on your gravestone for “Magic, sexy words” under dick and hands. “Yeah, I was.” You paused for a moment, feeling completely un-confident in yourself. “Sorry, this is so embarrassing, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Baby, it’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s fucking sexy, is what it is. I can’t stop thinking about this weekend either, Osita. Came so hard this morning thinking about you sucking my dick in the shower. Fuck, I wish it would have been you instead of my fuckin’ hand.”

Oh shit. Were you about to do this?

“Javi, I- fuck, I’ve never done this before, like, had phone sex.” The innocence in your voice had him hard as a rock. He knew for a fact after this weekend, you were not shy about sex. Fuck, you were the one that came on to him first. But the thought of you sitting in your bed, hand between your legs picturing him? That pushed him over the edge.

“It’s okay, baby, we don’t have to if you-“

“No, I do. Fuck, I’m so horny for you.”

“ Dirty fuckin’ girl. Take off your clothes, baby.”

“Lucky for you, I’m fresh out the shower and already not wearing any.” Your little giggle on the other end had him palming at his jeans. He quickly got up to double check his door was locked, thanking whatever higher power was up there that his dad was still out working.

“Go lie down on your bed for me.” Grabbing your phone, you brought it to your room, and sat propped up against your pillows.

“O-Okay, now what?” He could tell you were still nervous, a stark contrast from the confident and bold woman he usually saw.

“Relax, baby. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You trust me?”

“Yeah. I do.” He knew you meant it.

“Okay, hermosa. Tell me how you’d want me baby. Tell me what you’d want me to do to you if I was there.” The low rasp of his voice through the phone had you shuttering.

“Fuck. I’d want you to kiss down my neck. Kiss every fucking inch of me.” The words began to spill out of you. “I’d want you to touch me. Put your fingers in me. Your hands are so big, they feel so good.”

“Touch yourself, Osita. Feel how fucking wet you are for me.” You set the phone next to you, pressing the speaker button, freeing both your hands. Slowly, you dipped a finger inside you, diving in and out of your entrance, the other hand slowly rubbing over your clit. It felt like nothing compared to Javi’s hands, slowly adding a second finger inside you to imitate the pleasure he had given you this weekend. He could hear your soft moans through the other end of the phone, causing him to undo his belt, and slide his pants down far enough he could free his aching cock, already hard from your sounds alone.

“It feels so good, Javi. Fuck I wish it was you inside me.”

He spit on his hand as he began stroking himself, nestling his phone between his chin and his shoulder. His breathy groans traveled through the phone.

“You touching yourself too?”

“Fuck, hermosa. The thought of you touching yourself has me so fucking hard. Yeah, baby, I am.”

“I wish I could suck your dick like I did on Sunday. You tasted so good, loved feeling you down my throat.”

“Wish I could taste you too. Pussy tastes so fucking sweet. Fuck, I’d spend hours in between your legs making you scream my name as many times as I could.”

That was an offer you would definitely take him up on.

The pace of both your hands became more rapid, both of you so worked up from your conversation.

“Fuck. Javi, I want you to fuck me so bad. Your dick feels so good.”

“Want me to fuck you, hermosa? Want me to bend you over, fuck you over your dresser so you can watch in your mirror how fuckin’ gorgeous you are when I make you come? Watch your pretty face when I fuck you full of me?”

Yes please.

Javi’s words had you losing your mind, the rubbing of your clit getting faster and faster, the wet sounds of your fingers in and out of your pussy filling the room. If you weren’t close before, the image that Javi had just planted in your head had you right on the edge.

“Javi- holy shit, fuck fuck, baby, I’m gonna-” the whimpers of your orgasm had Javi groaning, his hand wrapping tighter around his cock, imagining it was your cunt clenching down on him as you came.

“Such a good fucking girl, Osita. Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too.” Over your panting, you heard Javi muttering your name as he climaxed, the both of you breathing heavily.

There was silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“Javi, holy shit.” You laughed, shocked and thrilled by what you two had just done.

“Jesus Christ, Osita, I was just trying to call and ask about Thursday but this was a lot fucking better.” His voice still breathy, coming down from his high.

“Well I still wanna talk about Thursday, it’s the only thing getting me through this week, although this was helpful, to say the least.”

“Believe me, me too. Lemme just clean myself up really quick. Be right back.”

There was a grin across your face so wide, it hurt your cheeks. You waited patiently on the other end, Javi quickly coming back.

“You still there, Osita?”

“Yes sir.” You replied in an obnoxious voice.

“Weirdo.”

“Oh shhh, you love it.”

Fuck. There it was again. That stupid word. He knew you didn’t mean anything by it right? Did you mean anything by it? Even if you did, there’s no way in hell you’d admit that to yourself so soon. Right? You frantically responded before he could say anything.

“Anyways, sorry for my incredibly horny tangent, what are you thinking for Thursday?”

“All good, hermosa, well worth it. What time are you done with work on Thursday?”

“I’ll probably be home at 4:15? The kids are only there in the morning so I just have to finish packing up my room and then I can go!”

“Can I pick you up around 5:30? I was gonna make dinner reservations at 6:00.”

“Do I get to ask what dinner is?”

“You don’t do well with surprises, do you?” He chuckled.

“How’d you guess?”

“Just had a feeling. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“No, I won’t ruin the surprise, that’s no fun. I was gonna let you have full reign on the movie we go see. You made a fantastic pick on Sunday, figured it would be fun for you to pick again.”

“Do you want that to be a surprise too?”

“Absolutely. I trust you.” He smiled, the phrase you had already used twice making his heart skip a beat. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his voice a little more nervous than before.

“Is it uh, okay if I bring stuff to spend the night? That way I can just go in to work from your place?”

You bit down on your lip to try and contain your excitement. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“Me too.” In the background of Javi’s phone, you could hear a faint voice in the distance yelling out to him. Holding his hand over the receiver, you heard him faintly yell “What, Pops? I’m on the phone.” Followed by a muffled, “stupid fucking horse…”

“Hey Osita?” His voice once again full volume, trying to restrain his annoyance. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. My dad just came in and told me one of the horses got out again and it's a two man job to wrangle him back in.”

“It’s okay, have fun horse wrangling, I hope he isn’t too much of a pain in the butt.” You giggled, imagining how grumpy Javi would look trying to fight with this horse.

“Símon is the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met.”

“Glad someone else gets to take the title besides me. I’ll make sure to give him extra carrots when I meet him.”

“Won’t do you any good, bastard hates everyone. I’ll see you on Thursday, Osita.”

“Bye Javi, see you on Thursday.”

“Bye.”

The line on the other end clicked, leaving you laying on your bed and smiling at your ceiling. You rolled over, now facing the dresser and mirror on the other side of your room, the image of Javi’s filthy words from earlier seeping into your brain. You would never look at your dresser the same. Thursday couldn’t come fast enough.

Javi had never really been nervous when it came to women. Even from a young age, he was confident in himself and his abilities to flirt, pick up girls, and show them a good time. Hell, half his reputation from his time in the DEA was trying to put the moves on any halfway decent looking woman as a way to fight the tension and stress of his job. Javier Peña knew he had a way with women. What absolutely terrified him, was trying to date one. Regretfully, Javi didn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many women he had slept with over the years. He could, however, count how many women he had dated on one hand, and only needed 2 fingers. Lorraine Doogan, and you. He’d taken women on dates- the occasional movie, dinner, drinks at the bar, but the idea of dating someone with the hope to keep them around for as long as he could? That scared the shit out of him.

Javi had been a nervous mess all of Thursday. He called to double check your reservation time at dinner, made sure he had an outfit to change into in his car, and spent way longer than usual getting ready this morning. The thing was, Javi knew you liked him. Fuck, you were his girlfriend. But this wasn’t hanging out at your apartment like you had done this weekend, he wanted to do something special for you to show how much he really cared.

Around 12:30, he found his co-workers sitting around their desks chatting and eating lunch when Javi stopped by, taking a break from his morning of doing nothing, too distracted by tonight to focus.

“Hey, just so you idiots know, I gotta head out early today. Carter, can you finish up that Guadalajara report and give it to Morris before you leave?” Javi came out of his office to see Agent Miller and Carter staring at him with confusion, their mouths still half full of food. Javi never once had left early in the time that he had worked there. If anything, he was there after everyone had left. Ever since last week, Carter and Miller had noticed that Javier had been in a surprisingly better mood than normal. They had seen him smile, not once but multiple times, and had even said good morning to both of them, several days in a row.

“Uh, yeah, sure Peña. Where ya going? Gotta hot date?” Carter meant it as a joke, but Javi’s lack of witty response and embarrassment on his face left him with an open door to ask the question.

“Holy shit, you gotta date don’t you?!”

Javi didn’t say anything, just ran his hand over the bridge of his nose.

“He’s gotta fuckin’ date tonight, Carter!” Miller responded, outstretching his hand to high-five Javi. “My man!” Javi glared at the hand held high towards him before Miller quickly got the hint to get it out of his face.

Javi let out a deep breath. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell people about you. He really did. He was so happy you were his. He just knew that these two buffoons were about to give him ten pounds of shit when they found out you were the person he was going on a date with. “Yeah, I’m going on a fucking date, okay? Happy?”

“Shit, no wonder you’ve been in such a good mood for the past week, Peña. Who is it? How’d you meet her?” Carter stretched back in his chair, completely invested in any information Javi was willing to share. More silence. Javi put his hands on his hips and let out another deep breath. Before he could get out any words, it was like the gears had been turning and a lightbulb had gone off in Miller’s brain, filling him with absolute glee.

“Carter… you said Peña’s been in a good mood for what now, a week?” Miller smirked.

“Yeah, why?” Clearly, he was not catching on.

“How long ago did he go in to do the presentation at the elementary school?” Miller’s grin widening, hoping it wouldn’t take Carter too much longer for him to understand his question.

“Fuck, I don’t know, like a week ago-” He paused before his face lit up, even giddier than Miller’s. “OH SHIT. IT’S THE HOT TEACHER ISN’T IT?! YOU LUCKY SON OF A BITCH.” Miller and Carter were now playfully swatting at each other in shock over the news.

There was no point in trying to deny it. Javi figured he might as well bite the bullet on this one.

“Yeah, it is. Again, she’s got a fuckin’ name okay?”

“I can’t believe it. Damn, she must really like you, Peña. The other teachers practically chased us away when we went to try and talk to her.” While he hated the thought of his idiot co-workers harassing you week after week, it did fill him with a little pride knowing he was the only one you were ever interested in.

“You dirty dog. This the first time you’re seeing her since then?”

Javi met every question with more silence. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to disclose any information to them, but their persistence in getting you to Alma Pierce last Wednesday was the reason you found yourself in this situation.

“No way. You’ve already seen her already, haven’t you? And she still wants to see you again? Damn. Good for you, Peña.”

“So what are you two doing for this date tonight? Besides hopefully getting laid?” Carter and Miller high-fived each other.

Was that part of Javi’s plan tonight? Absolutely. He wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t walk, and once he was done, he wanted to do it again. But the jealous and possessive part of his brain lit up hearing other people talk about you in that way.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that or I will snap both your fucking necks, understood?” Javi’s voice was stern and commanding, making Carter and Miller rapidly nod their heads in unison, knowing that if Javi really wanted to, he would.

“Understood man.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

The two men stared sheepishly at each other. Javi took another deep breath before composing himself and focusing his gaze back on Carter.

“Guadalajara report on Morris’s desk by the time I get in tomorrow, got it?”

“Will do, boss.” Carter barely made eye contact with him. Javi nodded before turning around, heading back into his office and closing the door.

Peeking his head around the corner to make sure Javi’s door was all the way shut, Miller leaned back over to Carter for one last remark.

“They’ve gotta be fucking already, right?”

“Oh yeah. That’s the face of a man who’s happy and gettin’ laid.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“You can say that again.”

You were shocked at how smoothly your Thursday was going. Your class had lots of fun at their class party, showering you with plenty of hugs and goodbyes on their last day. With your efficiency and determination to pack up your classroom, everything was labeled and put away by 2:45, leaving you with plenty of time to say goodbye to your co-workers before heading out early.

Remembering Saturday’s disaster of trying to pick out an outfit, you had spent the whole week trying on potential choices to not leave yourself a frantic mess today. You had settled on a peach colored dress with small white flowers, having a feeling that Javi would like it just as much as the one you wore on Saturday. You had plenty of time to get ready, taking more time than usual to do your hair and makeup and try on your outfit one last time. By the time you were all ready to go, it still wasn’t even 5 yet, leaving you with enough time to do a brief clean (even though you had made your apartment spotless enough it would have passed a health inspection test) and turn on SportsCenter for a little as you anxiously awaited Javi’s arrival.

At 5:25, you heard a knock at your door, practically sprinting up off the couch to greet him. As you opened your door, his tall, handsome frame filled the doorway. He was in a navy blue button down, its short sleeves fitting deliciously over his biceps, with a pair of tight, dark washed jeans. In his hands, he held a bouquet of sunflowers, but looked like he was practically about to drop them when he saw you answer the door.

“Osita, you look… beautiful.” His jaw was already half slack as his eyes ran their way up and down your frame, taking in every detail about you.

“Thanks, Javi. You don’t look half bad yourself. You blushed as you tried to contain your grin.

“These are for you.” He outstretched his hand, passing the bright yellow flowers over to you.

“Phew, thank god, I was worried that you just wanted to carry them around all night for fun. Thank you, Javi. They’re beautiful.” Carefully placing them on your entryway table. You stared up at Javi, his lip darting around his bottom lip, practically undressing you with his eyes. You grabbed him by his shirt collar, pulling him through the doorway, your mouths meeting in an electric kiss. He reached down to grab behind your head, pulling you closer into him his tongue danced along your open mouth. God, you had missed him. The scent of his cologne and minty breath overwhelmed your senses, as you leaned further into him, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he reluctantly pulled back from your kiss.

“Wow. Definitely missed that.” You smiled up at him, your heart pounding as you caught your breath.

“Fuck, me too. I missed you, Osita.” His sweet brown eyes stared down at you, a smile growing under his mustache.

This man had been in your presence for less than a minute, and you could already feel an ache growing between your legs. His kiss had you begging for more.

“What time is it? You said our reservation is at 6:00, right?” You asked, glancing down at Javi’s watch as you bit down on your lip and reached up to give him a kiss on his neck. It was clear to both of you why you had asked the question. You knew how riled up you both were given the phone call you had just 2 days before, and having gone 5 days without him, you were really holding it together to not jump all over him.

“Hermosa… Fuck. I can’t believe I’m gonna say this.” He took a step back from you, causing you to cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. “Baby, if we don’t leave your apartment now, we’re not fucking leaving. I meant what I said on the phone. Osita, I’ve spent every goddamn day this week thinking about this, but I really want to take you out to celebrate, you deserve it.”

It took every ounce of you not to protest. He looked so good that you would have fucked him right there on the floor next to your shoe rack. But he was right, he had worked so hard to plan whatever you two were doing tonight. He cared about you. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were worth celebrating. No one had ever cared about you this much.

“You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you. Although with how fucking hot you look and the fact that you pretty much eye fucked me from the moment you walked through the door, this is about to be a a battle of iron wills, and right now my will power is about the strength of a limp noodle.” You both laughed, trying to regain your composure. Smirking, you looked at him to give him a proposition.

“I bet you 5 dollars.”

“You bet me 5 dollars, that what, Osita?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

“I bet you 5 dollars that you break before I do. I don’t think you can make it through the night. Not with the way your eyes are still trying to undress me.”

“You sure? You were the one practically crawling all over me as soon as I walked through the door.” He crossed his arms to mirror yours, enjoying the prospect of your competition.

“I may be stubborn, but I got all the patience in the world, Peña. And I don’t like to lose.” You shrugged and winked at him, giving a playful raise of your eyebrows.

You drove him absolutely fucking crazy.

Leaning down, he pulled you in to kiss you again, even more intense than the one you had just shared. Your tongues and teeth clashed, making you moan between your connected mouths, before suddenly pulling away and grabbing his keys, dangling them in your breathless face.

He looked at you with a devilish grin. “You’re on baby. You ready to go?”

“What?! That’s not fair, you can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to function normally!”

“Never said it wasn’t part of the rules. Two can play at this game.” He leaned back down into your ear, his mustache tickling your neck as the low rasp of his voice serenaded you. “Besides, Osita, like you said, you have all the patience in the world, right?”

“Javier I don’t know your middle name Peña, I swear to God, you really are trying to kill me.” You both laughed as you grabbed your purse and began to put on your shoes.

“Jesús. Javier Jesús Peña.

Something about him saying his name made you smile. Maybe it’s because his name was yours. “Cute. Good to know, in case of emergencies, such as times like these. Alright, I’m ready, and I’m making space in my wallet to be 5 dollars richer tonight.”

As Javi opened his passenger side car door for you, you basked in the warm familiarity of sitting next to him while he drove. While his car was already neat, you could tell he must have gone through and cleaned in since Sunday. After he backed out of your apartment’s parking lot and you two headed on your way, his free hand almost immediately found its way to the skin of your thigh exposed under your dress, giving it a slight squeeze before tracing his fingers up and down your leg.

“Music?” He looked at you, smiling, reminiscing on your last drives’ sing a long.

“You don’t just want to listen to the Grease Soundtrack on repeat every time we drive?” You giggled as you reached into his glove box, shuffling back through the CD’s, noticing a new one that definitely wasn’t there this weekend. You quickly pulled it out, showing it to Javi.

“This one wasn’t here on Sunday?” You looked surprised by the Queen’s Greatest Hits disc you now had in your hand.

“Oh yeah, well you said they were your favorite band. I don’t know a ton of music by them, but figured you may want to listen to them if we’re driving.” He tried to play it off casually. You didn’t need to know that he drove to not one, but two stores after work this week to find that CD for you.

“Wait did you- Did you get this just for me?” Your surprise was so genuine. Not only did he care enough to even remember your favorite band, he went out and got you a CD so you could listen to it in his car while you drove together? You couldn’t have been more thankful to have been stopped at a red light as you leaned over the center console, grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a kiss. You only released him as you watch your peripheral vision turn from red to green. You both pulled back with smiles on your faces, Javi putting an even tighter grasp around your leg.

“Play it. You’re in charge of music tonight, Osita.”

“Figured you needed to let me be in charge of at least something, huh?” You rolled your eyes and snickered under your breath as you pushed the CD in and pressed play, the beat of Another One Bites the Dust thumping through the speakers

“This song is dedicated to you after you lose our bet tonight.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t like to lose, huh Osita?

“I will admit being overly competitive is one of my biggest character flaws. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played sports will do that to ya. I always wanted to play with them, and they wouldn’t let me play unless I proved I was good enough, so instead of crying about it, I just practiced to try and make myself better than them.”

Javi couldn’t have been less surprised. Given your stubbornness, there were few things he’d put past you.

“Did you play any sports as a kid?” You asked curiously.

“I did swimming and some baseball. Always liked swimming more. Parents would call me el pez. (fish) They would always tell me that they’d have to drag me out of the water whenever we went to the pool or beach. Swam in college a little too, but was never super serious about it. What about you? I’m gonna assume yes.”

“My brothers played everything, so yes, I’ve pretty much tried every sport under the sun at some point. Hockey was always my favorite though.”

“I’m gonna be real honest with you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hockey game in my entire life.”

“That’s criminal. Well considering you’re from southern Texas, it makes sense that a game involving ice isn’t very popular. Did you know Texas has an NHL team?”

“Wait, actually?”

“Yeah, actually. I don’t think anyone in Texas knows you do. The Dallas Stars. They were actually pretty good this year. Lost in the first round of the playoffs like the Blackhawks did, so now my only hope is that the Red Wings lose but it physically hurts me to say that I think they’re gonna win it all this year.”

Javi nodded, trying his best to follow along even though he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. Embarrassed with your rambling, you quickly retracted. “Sorry, I know you don’t really care about any of that.”

“You care about it, which means I’ll try my best to learn, Ostia.”

Your eyes shifted up from your lap where they had been staring to meet Javi’s gaze, soft and genuine. It shouldn’t have surprised you, but the feeling of knowing he actually cared never ceased to amaze you.

“Okay. All you need to know for the sake of this conversation is Blackhawks- good, Red Wings- bad.”

“Easy enough. I can remember that.” He winked at you before reaching to grab your hand and lock it with his.

You spent the last few minutes of your car ride in a comforting silence, Queen quietly playing in the background as you watched the sky slowly melt into a pink and orange sunset.

As you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, you looked at the sign above the entrance reading “Andiamos on Main.” You’d never been here before, but you felt like the name sounded familiar from hearing your co-workers who had gone on anniversaries, birthday dinners or big events to celebrate.

“Javi, this place is supposed to be really nice.”

“I know.”

“Like, people come here for birthdays and anniversaries and special things that only happen once a year.”

“You only finish school once a year, too. You’re special to me, Osita. You deserve it.”

“But I-"

“I’m not letting you argue with me on this one, baby. Please.”

As much as you wanted to, how could you argue with his sweet face, staring at you with his pleading brown eyes? You would have been thankful for him to have gotten you sandwiches again, let alone take you somewhere nice and insist you deserve it.

“Fine. Thank you, Javi. This is the nicest thing someone has done for me in a long time.”

“You deserve it, Osita. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

He leaned over to give you a quick kiss before turning off the engine of the car and quickly unbuckling himself so he could walk around the car and open the passenger door for you.

“Ready to eat?”

“Javi, there will be very few times in life where that answer will be no.”

When you walked into the restaurant, your suspicions were confirmed. This place was nice. The space was dimly lit with soft piano playing in the background, filled with other couples and large groups, all dressed nicely and casually chatting. You were surprised how busy the restaurant was as Javi took your hand to lead you through the small crowd in front of the hostess stand.

“Hi, how can I help you two?” The woman at the front asked as you two approached her.

“Hi, I have a reservation at 6:00. Should be under Peña.”

“Alright, let me just check real quick and then we’ll get you seated!” You watched as her fingers flicked through the notebook she had in front of her, a concerned look creeping up her face as she began to back track and flip through previous pages.

“You said Peña at 6:00, tonight, correct?”

“Mhhmm.” He nodded, also starting to look concerned by her confusion.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Peña, it looks like your reservation was for yesterday at 6:00 PM.”

Javi may have looked worse than he did when you had run into Lorraine a few days ago. “Wait, I uh-, it should be for today. It’s for June 3rd? The 3rd at 6:00 PM?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Peña. The 3rd was yesterday. Today is the 4th.”

You could feel the panic shedding from his body. The hand that was holding yours now started to become sweaty. The look on Javi’s face was sheer terror. “No, today’s the 3rd? Today’s the 3rd, right?” He looked frantically back and forth between you and the hostess before she flipped her notebook around to face you both, accompanied by her digital watch. In scratch writing under June 3rd, sat “Peña, party of 2, 6:00 PM.” And on her watch read “Thursday, June 4th.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…” he muttered himself underneath his breath, trying to keep his composure. “Are there any seats left? Anything at the bar, even?” Part of him already knew the answer, but was desperate to not give up yet.

“Well, we have a corporate event tonight so it’s extra busy. Right now there’s at least a 2 hour wait, and that’s being generous, and no seating at the bar. Again, so sorry for the confusion.”

He stood frozen in shock. He wanted to scream at himself. How could he have fucked this up? The guilt and panic flooded over him, leaving him speechless. He tried so hard to rebuttal- think of something, ANYTHING. Stuck in his chaotic train of thought, he felt your hand rub over his arm and heard your sweet voice.

“That’s okay! Thank you for checking! Mistakes happen, not a big deal at all. Come on, Jav, let’s go!” This time, you were the one leading him back through the crowd, him, following you helplessly, trying to think of anything to say. As you finally exited through the doors, the golden sunset shining down into the parking lot, Javi grabbed down tightly on your hand, stopping in his tracks.

“Fuck, Osita. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I fucked this up. I could have fucking swore today was the 3rd. I’m such a fucking idiot I-“

“Javi.”

He stopped. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Were you mad? Angry? Going to agree with him and tell him that he was a fucking idiot? He wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.

“Do you know how many times I took my class to gym on the wrong day when I first started at Alma Pierce?”

He looked at you blankly. It was almost like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“A lot. It took me a month and a half. I could have sworn they went to gym every Monday from 2:00-3:00, and at 1:55 every Monday, I would March them down to the gym for Mr. Luíz to tell me I had gym tomorrow from 2:00-3:00. It literally took me having to write it on my hand each Monday- don’t go to gym! For me to finally remember. It’s okay, Javi. I know you’re gonna beat yourself up about this. Please, please don’t. The fact that you even wanted to do something this nice for me is more than enough. I don’t care where we go, if I get to spend time with you, then I’m happy.”

If I’m with you, then I’m happy. The words danced around his brain, trying to make sure he was comprehending what he had just heard. He had completely fucked up your plans and not only did you not care, you were happy? He was the reason you were happy? That was a sentence he was positive he had never heard before.

You stepped into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you gazed into his eyes, still pooling with panic. “I like you, Javi. I like you a lot. You could have taken me to go get hot dogs from the gas station and I would have been excited. Maybe not excited for what they would have done to me after I ate them, but if I got to do it with you, I wouldn’t have cared.” He let out a small huff under his breath, half a smile creeping across his somber face. “There are plenty of places for us to eat, we still have a movie to go see, and when we get back, I am so horny I think I could spontaneously combust.” It relieved you to see the smile grow wider, a genuine laugh now coming out of him. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what, Osita?”

“Promise me you won’t beat yourself up over this.”

“Baby, I-“

“Promise me, Javier Jesús Peña. Or I will beat you up enough for the both of us” you poked your finger into his chest, playfully.

“Promise.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, savoring the sweet and familiar smell of your shampoo as his nose met your hair. “Going full name on me, huh?”

“Told you, it was good to know in case of emergencies.” You laughed as he shook you, wrapped in the broadness of his arms. “There’s a diner down the road we passed on the way in, I could definitely eat a whole mess of pancakes right now.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you liked breakfast.”

“I don’t joke when it comes to breakfast, Peña” you winked before you stretched up to peck him on the lips. “Let’s go.” You reached to grab his hand, leading him back to his truck. Trailing behind your lead, he soaked up every ounce of the image of you. An image he’d never get sick of.

You didn’t even bother looking at the menu as you picked a booth in the back corner of the small diner down the street. Javi ordered a sandwich while you shamelessly ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes with whip cream on top. You could tell Javi was still upset with himself, staying relatively quiet since you two had unexpectedly changed your plans. You had a feeling there wasn’t much you could say at this point that would make him feel any less guilty- you would have felt the same way. Looking for a way to get him out of his head, you pulled out a kids menu and a wrapped pack of crayons tucked behind the condiments at your table, scribbling on it before sliding across the table to Javi.

“Hangman?” Javi looked at you, chuckling.

“We don’t have to play if you don’t want to, just thought it could be fun. Figured this was better than me coming across the booth to beat you up because I can tell you’re still mad at yourself.”

This set off a more genuine laughter from him, shaking his head as he crossed his arms and leaned back in the booth. “I don’t know, Osita, after you told me you used to play hockey, you’ve got me a little nervous that you could take me out.” You both snickered at the idea of you trying to take down Javi. “Sure, let’s play.”

“P?” He questioned, staring down at the dashed lines.

“P? That’s what you’re gonna start with?” You drew a circle for the head.

“What’s wrong with P?”

“Vowels first! Makes it way easier!”

“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve played hangman since I was in elementary school.”

“Which is why I’m an expert, seeing that I’m in an elementary school practically every day. Next guess.”

“E?”

“See, there you go!” You marked down several spots after Javi’s guess.

“Okay, how about M?”

“That doesn’t mean stop guessing vowels, dummy. But yes, lucky for you there is an M.” You laughed as Javi continued guessing letters and began eating as your food arrived. Through a bite full of your pancakes you gave Javi a dumbfounded look.

“Javi… you seriously don’t know what it says? You can go hunt down drug lords in South America but hangman on a kids menu at a diner is what’s gonna do you in?” You both snorted as Javi tried to defend himself.

“Osita, those are two completely different things.”

“Well I’m not gonna lie Javi, one seems significantly easier than the other.”

“Fine, I’ll guess. What movie are we seeing?”

“Great work, detective.” You remarked sarcastically.

“Gimme that.” He said, snatching the paper from you as he began to draw his own lines. “Your turn.”

“Okay, thank goodness, I was worried we were going to miss the movie with how long it was taking you to guess. I'm starting with A.”

Javi begrudgingly noted down some letters. You continued guessing, quickly filling up the lines until you had figured out the clue.

“Oh, Jurassic Park! I’ve been wanting to see that! Have you seen the first one?”

“Jesus, that was fast. No, but I figured it would be one you’d like.

“I was secretly hoping you’d pick that one, so one point for you, Javier Peña.” You winked at him as you took a final bite of your pancakes. “I know this wasn’t the dinner you had planned, but it was still really good. And we still have a movie to go see and plenty of movie snacks to eat. You ready to go?” Javi smiled at you, nodding, still in disbelief how content you were with how things were going.

Your waiter came around to collect your plates and give you the bill, Javi insisting on paying, despite your attempt to physically try to open his hand and put cash in it. As you made your way out to the car, you reached down to grab his hand, embracing the familiarity of your fingers interlocking, his grasp engulfing yours. Your drive to the movie theater included several more tracks of Queen sing alongs, Javi’s favorite notably being your enthusiastic rendition of Don’t Stop Me Now. With the windows slightly rolled down, the wind blew through your hair, a smile stretched across your face. You were so wrapped up in singing, you hadn’t noticed Javi’s eyes locked on you, completely enamored by your presence. Part of him just wanted to say fuck it to the movie. Instead, take you back to your apartment, fuck, to have you in his truck and show you how thankful he was for you.

As you pulled into the movie theater, you noticed that Javi had parked in a far back corner, a sizable walk from the front entrance. Before you could ask anything, his mouth was crashing into yours, running his hand through the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer in. His other hand snaked under the hem of your dress, rubbing along your thigh before reaching under your underwear, his fingers grazing along your entrance. Your hand mirrored, reaching across to grab his face, before planting kisses along his, working your way up to his ear. As much as you wanted to say nothing, you knew you at least had to tease him a little. You could hear his heavy breaths as you bit at his earlobe and whispered.

“You owe me 5 dollars.”

He pulled back, shaking his head, his breathing still labored. “Jesus Christ. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You leaned back in, planting another kiss on his neck before pulling back. “I told you, I don’t lose.” You winked before giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tell ya what, because I’m such a gracious winner, I’ll donate my 5 dollars towards buying our movie snacks, okay?”

“Doesn’t that defeat the whole bet?” He laughed at you.

“Well I needed to find a way to let you get me to buy something on our date so you don’t pay for anything, and I figured you can’t argue with me if I use my winnings from our bet.”

“Fair enough.” He sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing.

“Thank you. You ready to go watch some dinosaurs?” You nudged him before hopping out of the passenger’s side door. Javi sat there for a moment, regaining his composure before following beside you into the theater, his hand now taking its familiar spot locked in yours.

Javi couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a movie theater. He hadn’t gone in Colombia, probably making it close to a decade since stepping foot into one. Once Javi had told you how long it had been, you wanted to make sure you did everything you could to make it the best experience possible for him. After getting your tickets, you made your way to concessions, getting much more than your 5 dollar bet’s worth of snacks.

“Do you really think we need this much?” Javi asked, now carrying the frozen Coke and M&M’s you had handed him, you carrying a large popcorn.

“Well first of all, you haven’t been to the movies in forever, so I want you to get the full movie snacking experience. Second, you ate two full bags of popcorn by yourself when we watched Star Wars, so I’m honestly worried this isn’t enough.” Mentally noting that Javi had already had 3 handfuls of M&M’s on your way to your seats.

You were thankful that you were able to find two seats in the top middle of the theater, considering how crowded it was. You could feel a shift in his demeanor, like he was uneasy with how many people filled the room, constantly scanning back and forth. It wasn’t that Javi minded crowds, it was what could happen in a crowd if something went wrong that made him anxious. He had seen it first hand, and knew how poorly it could end. He hadn’t been somewhere this crowded in a long time, but with his instincts kicking in to overdrive, he could feel himself starting to panic at his current state.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Uh yeah, um, I’m fine, it’s just, um-“

You patted the seat next to you, ushering Javi to sit down. Once he did, you reached over to grab his hand and squeeze it and rest your head on his shoulder. You had seen this happen before with your brothers, especially your oldest, after he returned back from his first tour of active duty. While you could never truly understand how it felt, the last thing you wanted to do was make Javi feel like you weren’t there for him. “It’s okay. It’s more crowded than I would have thought too. We can stay here or if you need to move or go outside for a little we can do that too. Whatever you need.” You could feel a little of his tension ease as he kissed the top of your head.

“No, I’m okay, thanks, Osita.” He felt a wave of relief wash over him that some way or another, you just seemed to know what he needed to snap him out of his funk.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. I promise I’ll keep you safe from the dinosaurs.” You giggled while you looked up at him, Javi giving you a playful shake as he moved his arm to wrap over your shoulder, his thumb stroking back and forth across your skin as the lights lowered and previews started.

As the movie is played, you found Javi’s hand somewhere on your body at all times. Holding your hand, wrapped around you, rubbing your leg, even playing with your hair as you rested your head against the width of his strong shoulders. The other hand was either in the popcorn or reaching down to eat the rest of the M&M’s. Javi really couldn’t have told you what was happening on screen, his eyes had barely left you, watching every reaction to what was happening. He was soaking in every moment, noticing when you laughed, excitedly poking him when something big happened, trying to fill him in so he wasn’t lost on what was happening. He was surprised when you let out a little shriek and grabbed on to him as one of the dinosaurs popped out on screen, even though you insisted that you weren’t scared, just weren’t expecting it. As the movie ended and credits began rolling, you looked over to already find Javi looking at you.

“So, what’d ya think? Good first movie theater experience?”

“It was great, Osita.”

“Good, I’m glad. Enjoy your snacks?” You laughed, looking at how the popcorn and M&M’s were completely gone, the frozen Coke only filled with a few sips worth left.

“Oh shit, yeah, uh sorry…” realizing that he had pretty much eaten everything, oblivious to everything that wasn’t you.

“It’s okay. I figured given what happened with the last movie we watched. You haven’t been to the movies in who knows how long, I wanted to make sure you got everything you wanted.” Javi wasn’t sure how you did it, but everything you did and said had him falling harder and harder for you. You were everything he wanted. You hadn’t cared when he fucked up the dinner reservations, you wanted to make sure he had fun at the movies, all you wanted was to be with him. Leaning over, he grabbed your face with both hands, engulfing you in a long, deep kiss. He didn’t care if people stared, in fact, he hoped they did. He hoped they’d see how lucky he was that you were his.

“Wow. What was that for? Not that I’m complaining or anything.” You smirked, pulling away from his grasp.

He knew it. He knew he couldn’t say it, but he knew it. He settled for what he could say instead.

“I really like you, Osita. I like you a lot. Thank you for tonight. I, um… I, just, thank you.”

“Javi, what are you thanking me for? I should be the one thanking you. You’re the one who wanted to do all of this for me. I really like you too, thank you for making tonight so special.”

Kissing the top of your head, he bent down to whisper in your ear. “Tonight’s not over yet, Osita. This isn’t the only part of our date I’m about to make special for you, baby.” He couldn’t help himself. He had spent the whole movie thinking about sneaking his hands further and further up your dress, how perfect you were, blissed out and moaning his name as he was inside you.

“Jesus, Javi.” You shook your head, speechless. “I don't know what the hell we’re still doing standing here then. I’ll Tyrannosaurus Rex my way through this crowd for you to get me back home ASAP.” He laughed as you grabbed his hand leading him down the stairs and through the crowded lobby back to his car.

The sexual tension in his car on the drive home was so thick, you would have needed a chainsaw to cut through it. You had both agreed, unlike Sunday, you would both have enough self control to make it back to your apartment, but with the way Javi was staring at you, and how dangerously close his hands were getting under your dress, the prospect of making it another 10 minutes home seemed practically impossible. When you finally reached the parking lot of your apartment, you practically threw yourself out of the car as you and Javi stumbled up the stairway, bodies crashing into one another as your mouths met furiously, hands frantically roaming over each other's bodies. You had no idea how you were able to get out your key and open your door as Javi’s chest pressed into your back, kissing your neck as your hands shakily unlocked your entrance to your apartment. The moment the door closed behind you, your clothes both quickly were shed, leaving a trail of items to your bedroom. Your bodies banged along the hallway as you shuffled your way to the bedroom, your mouths never leaving one another’s. Javi practically threw you onto your bed before shuffling his boxers down to pool around his ankles, his broad and handsome presence hovering over you. He knelt down to the edge of the bed, nudging your knees apart to reveal your pussy, glistening from its wetness.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over your pussy, baby. Always so fucking wet.” Javi mewled before breathing in heavily and licking a long, broad strip along your clit. His tongue swirled around your heat as your hips bucked towards his face. One hand grasped your sheets while the other ran through his hair, tugging at the dark, curled ends as you moaned. You wanted him so badly to be inside of you, to fill the emptiness you were clenching around. Before you could ask, he slipped not one, but both fingers into you. His hand felt enormous compared to yours, his fingers so much more satisfying as they hit inside you over and over. As both digits curled up and his mouth sucked over your clit, you whimpered breathlessly.

“Javi, you feel so good. Fuck me, holy shit.”

“Patience Hermosa, I will, don’t worry.” He winked before diving back down between your legs. His free hand wrapped around your leg, grabbing your hip as you squirmed from how good he felt. The repetitive motion of his thick fingers plunging in you mixed with the skilled movement of his tongue across your sensitive nub had you already clenching down, close to your end. You knew with how worked up you had been this week without him, and what a goddamn menace he was, it wouldn’t take long for you to be on the verge of screaming his name in pleasure.

“Baby, fuck, fuck I’m so close, Javi, I-“

Before you could finish your sentence, your orgasm flooded through your body, legs shaking and head thrown back as you moaned. The pleasure was so intense, and so much better than you could have even remembered. As you came back down from your high, Javi slowly pulled his fingers out from you before sucking them clean, your juices still smeared across his smirking face. “You taste so fucking good, Osita.”

“Jesus, Javi… holy shit.” You breathed deeply, trying to regain your composure. He leaned over you, kissing up your body, stopping to take each nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue before making his way up your neck.

“I told you I meant what I said on the phone, baby. Is that okay with you?” His breath was low and raspy as he whispered into your ear.

“Yes, oh my god, I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said all week. I haven’t been able to look at my dresser the same since.” You both let out light, airy laughs before Javi had picked you up and carried you over to your dresser before sitting you down on top of it. You spread your legs open, pussy still slick and shining from your last orgasm as Javi spit down into his hand before stroking his dick, already hard and desperate to be inside you. He then helped you shimmy down, smacking your ass as you turned around and placed your arms on the dresser. Looking up at the mirror in front of you, you could see the hungry look in Javi’s eyes as he ran his cock up and down your folds, collecting your slick. He kissed your shoulders as he rubbed his hands down the side of your body, squeezing your hips. “Javi, please.” You whimpered, the throbbing between your legs making it feel like he was taking years.

“What happened to all that patience, Osita?” He smirked as he grabbed another handful of your ass. You were so desperate at this point your brain was unable to form words, only moans pleading for Javi to give you what you wanted. “So needy, huh? I’ll give you what you want, baby girl, don’t worry..” Slowly, he made his way into you, the sting of the sweet stretch of his cock making you breathless. As he bottomed out inside of you, a low groan from him mimicked yours. “So fucking tight, hermosa, fuck.”

“Javi, move, please.” You were practically begging at this point.

“I will, Osita. Look in the mirror first, baby.” Your eyes shifted off of the oak of the dresser under your arms and up to the image of Javi’s body towering behind you. His tanned and toned chest, his dark curls and mustache, the lust pooling in his eyes, Jesus, he really was the hottest man you’ve ever seen.

“I want you to see how pretty you are when I fuck you. See what a good fucking girl you are when you take me so well, when I fuck you full of me. Can you do that for me?” As your eyes met his in the mirror frantically nodding, he began to move himself in and out of you, taking his time. Almost as if he was savoring how good each thrust felt. Each time he pushed back into you, your gasps became louder, the feeling intensifying. The spot he was hitting was so sweet, but your body was pleading for more.

“Fuck Javi, give me more, please baby. Fuck me harder.” Your eyes once again locking with his, a delightfully surprised look spreading across his face.

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you harder, hermosa?” You once again nodded rapidly, biting down on your bottom lip. “Use your words, pretty girl.” He teased, slowing his pace enough to make you squirm.

“Fuck me harder, Javi. Please baby, you feel so good, I want more.” Javi knew his size was larger than average. He definitely hadn’t been gentle with you, but he hadn’t been overly aggressive, not wanting to push your limits and make you uncomfortable. But right now, he had you in the palm of his hand, begging him for more.

“You sure you want more, baby?” He slowly began to speed up his thrusts, waiting for your answer.

“Mhmmmm.” You whined at the ridges of his cock rubbing against your walls. “Give it to me, please.”

With that, his pace changed drastically, his hips snapping into you repeatedly. You could feel every inch of him stretch you out in a way that you couldn’t describe. The way his dick pounded into, filling you so deeply and intensely had your screams echoing off the walls of the room.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, oh my god.”

“Yeah? Feel good, Osita? My good fucking girl, taking me so well.”

Suddenly, his arm reached under yours, pulling you up so your back was flushed with his chest. He wrapped his arm over your breasts, his big hand engulfing one while his other hand reached down for your clit. The added pleasure made the building feeling in your stomach creep closer and closer, knowing you were about to snap. His calloused fingertips rubbed back and forth as he leaned into you, his mouth grazing along your neck. “Look at yourself, baby. I know you’re close. I want you to see how pretty you are when you come all over my dick.” Your eyes watched Javi’s hand rub faster along your sensitive bundle of nerves before shifting up to see the damp, dark curls stuck to his forehead, a sheen covering his body in sweat. Each snap of his hips hit harder and harder, you feeling your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock. With only a few more thrusts, you felt something snap inside you, your legs shaking as you moaned Javi’s name as you came. Watching you had Javi reeling, his thrusts becoming more frantic as your eyes met in the mirror before he spoke.

“Where do you want me, baby?”

“Inside me. It’s yours Javi. It’s all fucking yours.”

Your words were all he needed before he took one last pump, spilling inside you. You watched in the mirror as his jaw went slack as his muscles tense. You felt his spend covering your walls, his cock pulsing as he finished. He draped his body over yours, your heavy breathing syncing for a few moments before he pushed himself back up, slowly pulling out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling the mix of you running down the side of your leg. Suddenly, you felt Javi’s body press into yours, his arm snaking between your legs as two thick fingers pushed into you, making you gasp.

“Will you keep me in you, hermosa? So I know you’re all fucking mine?”

“Yes, Jesus Christ.” You whispered under your breath. He watched you nod as he pushed into you one last time before pulling out his fingers and kissing down your back, chuckling as he pulled away.

“Nope, just me, Javi. Go lay down on the bed, baby. Let me get something to clean you up.”

“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you still laid slumped over the dresser. “I would move but I think you fucked me so good my legs don’t work anymore.” He snuck up behind you, picking you up and carrying you over to your bed before plopping you down and heading to the bathroom, leaving you giggling, staring at your ceiling. He returned with a warm washcloth, gently wiping you up before tossing it into your laundry basket and climbing under your covers with you. You scooted close to him, your head resting on his chest, arm draped across and one leg hiked up, resting on top of him. His strong arms wrapped around you, tracing circles along your back as he kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you, Javi.”

“For what, Osita?”

“This was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“You must have been on a lot of shitty dates then, Hermosa.”

“I’m being serious, you goofball! I mean yes, I think before this, the most romantic thing someone had done for me was when Paul actually remembered our anniversary, and then asked me if we could go to his favorite sports bar instead of the nice restaurant I picked because he didn’t want to miss a football game that was on that night. But I’m not kidding, the fact that you wanted to spend time with me, let alone plan something nice, I don’t know… it just really means a lot. So thank you.”

Javi paused for a moment before he responded. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Happy, relieved even, that you had such a good time on a date that anyone else probably would have deemed a disaster? Thankful that you wanted to spend just as much time with him as he did with you? Heartbroken that there had been one too many idiots who had come in and out of your life that had treated you like shit and you had accepted that was as good as it got?

“Osita, I said it before and I’ll say it again, you deserve it. You’re beautiful and smart and sexy as hell and even if you won’t admit it, you deserve someone who sees that. I still can’t believe that you think that I’m worth any of your time, but I’m sure as hell glad that you do.” He kissed your head again as you nuzzled it closer to his chest, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Before you could say anything he finished with, “I sure as fuck hope that I never meet Paul either, cause I’d give that fucking guy a piece of my mind.”

You let out a small huff as you looked up at him. “Ease up there, cowboy. Don’t worry, I think everyone I know has already given him enough shit to last him 3 lifetimes. You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you.” You stretched up to plant a soft kiss on his lips as you reached up to cup his face.

“Of course, baby. I lo-“ He stopped himself as quickly as possible. His brain hadn’t even processed the words that were coming out of his mouth. There was no fucking way he could say it, even if he knew it. He just prayed you hadn’t heard his slip up before he continued. “I really like you, and I’m so glad you had a good time tonight. I did too.”

“Can I see you again this weekend? I know you have to work tomorrow and we just saw each other today and-“

“Yes, Osita. I’d love to see you again this weekend. I promised my dad I’d help him with some things around the ranch tomorrow night and Saturday morning but other than that, I’m all yours.” He leaned down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your neck as you pulled away.

“Perfect. Can I pick something for us to do since you got to pick what we did today?”

“Is it a surprise, or do I get to know?” He asked mockingly.

“If yours got to be a surprise, so does mine. I don’t have anything specific picked out yet, but I have a few ideas.”

“Can’t wait to see what it is, Osita.”

You glanced over at your alarm clock, forgetting the fact that you didn’t have to set it again until August, and Javi still had one more day until his weekend. “What time do you usually get up in the morning?”

“Why?” He asked, fingers still tracing up and down your shoulders.

“So I can get up with you in the morning and make you breakfast and say goodbye to you before you go to work.” Your fingers mirrored his, circling over his bare chest.

“Hermosa, it’s your first day of summer, you’re not getting up with me in the morning, you get to sleep in.”

“What if I want to get up with you in the morning? You gonna force me to stay in bed until you leave?”

“Fine, I’m not waking you up on purpose, but if you’re awake and want to get up with me I’m not going to say no.”

“Well then I will see you in the morning, bright and early.”

“Okay, Osita. I’m gonna go run down to my car and grab my bag, are you okay if I leave the door unlocked so you don’t have to let me back in?”

“Sure. I’ll be right here, unless you’ve pulled off hiding your serial killer act this long and you and the rest of your gang have found the perfect opportunity at this moment.”

“Dork. I’ll be back up in a few, okay?”

“Safe travels out there.”

He laughed as he collected his clothes scattered on the floor trailing down the hallway to put on before heading out the door. You rolled over, inhaling the scent Javi had left behind on your pillow, his space still warm from his body. You pulled your covers further over you, snuggling in closer to the space he just was in. Even without him physically next to you, the feeling of knowing he would be back next to you soon flooded your body with a sense of comfort. Not realizing how tired you were until this moment, you felt your eyelids begin to droop, growing heavier with each blink. You swore to yourself you could stay awake the few minutes Javi would be gone, but by the time he returned back up with his bag, he was greeted with the soft sound of snores filling your bedroom. He set his things down at the end of the bed before turning off the lights and stripping himself of his clothes once again before crawling under the covers, spooning you, wrapping your body in his arms.

“Dulces sueños, mi amor. Te adoro. Todo es más bonito si estás conmigo. Soy tan afortunado de tenerte” (Sweet dreams, my love. I adore you. Everything is more beautiful when I’m with you. I’m so lucky to have you.)

He kissed your head as he pulled you in closer. He slowly breathed out, a sense of peace and comfort filling his body. He took one more moment to savor your presence before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep next to you. There were few things in life that Javier Peña had ever been absolutely sure of. You were one of those few things.

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oliviajdjarin · 1 year

Text

Azriel Shadowsinger: Young God

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Request: “Okay I’m annoying you with these now hehe sorry. But I have another idea/request. You know how in angst Azriel x reader oneshots it’s always the reader who’s in love with Azriel and he’s in a relationship? How about we switch that and make it so Azriel is in love with an unavailable reader?” @aroseinvelaris

Excerpt: “He looked up at you like a boy, a little boy, who had been pushed too far. And yet, at the same time, the Azriel who quickened your heart with only a glance was still there, giving his face and body the look of what you could only describe as a young, bleeding god. Covered in sweat and tears and blood, his hair soaked with the same alloy, he was a fallen angel, begging for mercy.

His eyes said to you make it stop. Please, make it end.

“Az,” you whispered, and he fell into your arms.

Your brain instantly tore you in half. You had never felt so overjoyed and crestfallen in the same moment.”

Warnings: illyrian!reader, jealous!azriel (so yummy), idiots in love, reader has sex with someone else, heavy swearing, kind of toxic reader and az, drinking, mating bond, punching bags, blood, kissing, and our lord of bloodshed and high lord make an appearance.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I have been sitting on this request forever, and I feel I am finally capable of doing it justice. I hope you enjoy @aroseinvelaris, thank you again for your request.

A/N 2: I’m a lot a little rusty with acotar vernacular and Azriel descriptions. so please be kind. This is also incredibly not canon.

SJM Masterlist

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated :)

The last thing you wanted to do in the infamous, disreputable Windhaven War-Camp was drink, but with the presence of its current war lord, you were really fucking tempted to.

You could hear his remarks from a multiple tables away.

Training females, a waste of resources if you ask me.

What the fuck else does Rhysand expect of us? To put bitches in our camps? On our front lines?

Rhysand’s dogs wish they could prove what we do to with them after their training.

He was a cocksucking pig, and that was enough of an excuse for you to bring a cup of wine to your lips and practically guzzle it down.

“You hear him too?” said the Lord of Bloodshed to your right, or as you knew him, just Cass.

You nodded, taking another sip despite the sour grapes coating your tongue, and his leathers squeaked as he leaned forward on his chair. He was gripping his own glass like a sailor dangling over a hull.

“Mother help me,” he replied.

“Mother help us all,” you countered, and Cassian chuckled.

“And Rhysand most of all,” he replied, gesturing across the crowded dining area.

Rhys was elbows-deep in documents, going over how exactly Windhaven was functioning under his rule with the other war lords. You didn’t blame him. With Ironcrest continuing to defame him and grip onto their dissent, Rhysand couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.

He would never admit that, of course, but after over a century of spying for him, you had your ways of reading him; shoulders tight, back hunched, eyebrows creased, and chin resting on his palm. Yeah, he was a bit stressed out.

If only you could read another Illyrian in the room’s body language so well.

You and Cassian sat and drank for some time, grateful Rhys trusted you to be his backup but simultaneously regretting ever joining him in the first place, before the rest of your backup arrived.

You begged your heart not to quicken. The alcohol was already fucking with your head enough.

Azriel sat in the seat to your left, his distinct musk of cool air, leather, and shadows breezing by you as he did, and poured himself a glass of his own.

“Notice anything?” Cassian asked him as he poured, well aware that your heart was in fact quickening, but Az shook his head.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

You nodded as he sipped his drink, leaning back into his chair. His wings and chest widened, giving your peripheral vision the perfect angle of his leathers. Him and Cassian had gone all out - adorned with every dagger, cuirass, pauldron, and gauntlet you could think of, in addition to their shimmering siphons bouncing off every metallic object in the hall. You blended in with them as best as you could.

Except, of course, the fact that you were a female.

Az’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. “I would feel more confident if Y/N did my route over again after dinner is served. Would you be okay with that?”

You nodded without looking at him, and were surrounded by silence once more.

The three of you continued to keep your eyes open, scanning the room for any sudden movements, suspicious glances, or unnecessary walks towards your High Lord. Your body besieged you to get up and get away from the male beside you. Escape the nervous energy he always seemed to coat you with made especially worse given the fact that you were surrounded and outnumbered by enemies, made your fight-flight-or-freeze response ache with strain.

The alcohol wasn’t helping the feeling at all. You needed something else. Right then and right there to make your heart pound and sweat pour from your pores.

With one glance to your right, you spotted your solution.

“Is that who I think it is?” Cassian asked, following your line of sight, and you grinned.

Ozia. A name perfect for his image in your mind.

Azriel followed your gaze as well, his spine straightening and his eyes squinting, and looked back to you with a look that could only be described as a mix of puzzled and panicked.

The male’s hazel eyes met yours across the hall, and in that moment, you knew exactly where your night was going to end.

The male was tall and chiseled, skin tanned and freckled, and his hair was brown and curly. It hung over his eyes slightly, etching his curved nose and pouted lips perfectly. He was quiet, reserved, but one of the few Ilyrian males you had ever found yourself able to trust. You had met him the last time you had visited Devlon, enforcing Rhysand’s rule of training before chores with an iron fist, and Ozia had backed you up completely. He explained that he had even started taking the females back to his home to teach them proper stretching and breathing techniques, and his support made your trip infinitely easier.

Maybe that was the reason you had ended up in his bed, or maybe it was because of his borderline piercing resemblance to the male on your left. Either way, Cassian had never teased you as relentlessly as he had the day he had found out - you still had no fucking idea how - and with the look in his eye as his gaze bounced between you, Ozia, and Az, he was not going to let this one go either.

Not a morsel of you cared. It was infinitely better than sitting in the want of a male you could never have.

You finished off your wine before standing up, scraping your wooded chair against the floor as you did. Azriel looked up at you and, likely having put the two pieces together, asked, “What about dinner?”

Your excitement to escape him caused you to overlook the venom in his tone.

“I’m not hungry,” you responded, and made your way towards the male you knew, and away from the one you wish you did.

~*~

Azriel willed himself to remember a word of what Cassian had said to him from the moment you left to the moment he finally made his escape, but as he trekked up the creaky, circular stairs to his dust-ridden bedroom for the evening, he could not recall a single word.

Not after the look in your eyes as you looked at the male across the room, the grin tracing your teeth as you eyed him, and the way your hips moved as you walked to him. Not after Azriel could not eat more than a few bites of the chicken soup provided for them without becoming queasy at the thought of what that male - Ozia - was doing to you, what you were doing to him. Not after the blow to his heart after waiting for you to walk his route with him, as you had agreed to, and you never showing.

And especially not now, as he prepared himself for the necessity of passing your room in order to get to his own.

With the alcohol muddling his mind and the exhaustion in his muscles from one of the longest days he had experienced in recent memory, he thought he could pass it by without a second thought. He was in the clear at the top of the steps, throat closing and head pounding, but as he made his way past your door, his hope dissolved like a sugar in tea.

He didn’t hear you, or him, or have any proof that you were together in your room in any way...

... except for the smell of it.

He had never hated anything more..

The smell of you - you - that he had gotten to know so well. Vanilla and green tea with just a hint of rose, a mixture true to who you were at your core, mixed with the smell of someone else. It was sex and sweat and spit and sheets and you so much of you and so much of him.

It was acrid, pungent, and so fucking heart shattering that he had to put his hand to his chest to ensure his heart was still beating.

He wanted to keel over in pain, rip his heart out of his chest, shatter every window in the cabin, and rip you away from him all in the same moment.

But he just kept on walking, ignoring the tether in his chest pulling him back to you more than anything else.

~*~

If Azriel thought that night was long, he was not ready for the morning after.

At breakfast, you reeked of him, yet the smile on your face was what burned Azriel to a crisp. As the four of you traveled home, you and Cass snuck glances at each other like two females who knew something Azriel didn’t. When you finally reached the House of Wind, you immediately went up to bed, mumbling something about how you hadn’t managed to get much sleep anyway.

He hadn’t either.

As you headed upstairs, Azriel headed down, vibrating with an energy he could not describe. All he knew was that he wanted it off of him. He needed everything he was feeling inside of him off and away it was cutting him so deeply -

“Hey,” came a voice, the arm attached to it finding its place on Azriel’s shoulder. He turned, startled to finally feel his body after living solely in his head, and was met with violet.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asked, and Azriel softened a bit from the look of concern in his eyes.

After centuries of having brothers - real brothers - he still wasn’t used to being loved.

“I’m fine,” Azriel replied, and Rhys raised his eyebrows. “Honestly, I am. Just overtired, and sick of Illyrians.”

As if on cue, Cassian walked through the house with a dagger in one hand and an even bigger bottle of liquor in the other, likely headed upstairs to bring said items up to his mate.

He turned to look at his observers as he made his way up, exclaiming proudly, “I picked the dagger out myself.”

Rhys and Az looked at each other after he reached the top, and Rhys chuckled, patting Azriel on the shoulder. “You and me both, brother.”

~*~

Azriel couldn’t remember how many punching bags he’d sent flying across the training room’s floor. He didn’t fucking care.

All he knew was that the feeling inside of him was not stopping.

He had done pushups until he collapsed, a plank until he dropped, crunches until he puked, and now he was punching the bags without any wrapping protecting the skin of his hands. He would take anything else - anything else - in place of this anguish. He could still smell it, couldn’t stop picturing it, and every time his brain seemed to release him from the torture of its vividity, it would snap back in almost instantly like a punch to his stomach.

He’d been hit many times, but nothing that felt like this. It was a feral, dirty, venomous beast inside of him tearing him apart with its nails and teeth. His arms were jelly, his hands were spilling clumps of blood, but it still wasn’t enough. The beast was relentless, beating Azriel no matter what he did.

His chest ached so badly. The thought of you kissing Ozia.

Punch.

Tasting him.

Punch.

Feeling him.

Punch.

Laughing with him.

Punch.

Smiling at him. Enough to crinkle your irises. While Azriel waited for you.

Punch.

And possibly even loving him.

A punch, a crack, and a scream echoed through the chamber, and Azriel smiled with victory as his body finally gave out on him.

~*~

You woke covered in sweat, an unidentifiable scream echoing through your mind like a stone in an empty cave, and a searing pain etching its way down your right hand. Tears coated your eyes as you sat up, hissing as the throbbing made it down to your fingertips.

The scream continued to reverberate all the while.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hand laying limp by your side. You felt stupid for crying. You had broken your hand before.

But your hand wasn’t broken.

You attempted to wiggle it around, flexing your fingers and widening your grip, and the pain slowly faded to a dull ache. You wiped your eyes as you pushed down onto the mattress with it, attempting to gauge how harsh the pain was engrained your bones.

The searing sensation returned.

“Fuck,” you whispered again, and scooted off the bed and onto your feet. The sun had begun to rise outside your window, illuminating you with gold as you walked into the hall and down to the kitchen.

Your mind muddled with pain and sleep so harshly that you relied on your body to navigate for you, allowing it to think for you. You didn’t even know why you were going to the kitchen. You just needed to move the rest of your body to distract you from your hanging hand.

As you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, you realized that, instead of the kitchen, your body had begun to take you down further.

“What the fuck am I doing?” you questioned, but still walked down, down, down.

Maybe your body was telling you that some training would do you good. Maybe your hand was just stiff and sore, and needed renewed blood flow. You had been skipping out on your morning routine due to your guard duty. Maybe your body was itching for it back.

You yawned, whispering, “Whatever.”

You began rolling your shoulders as your feet hit the ground, warming up your back and neck. You rubbed your eyes one last time with your left hand, allowing your still aching right one to remain hanging at your side, while simultaneously becoming overwhelmed with the scent of sweat, rubber, and blood. For a second, you smiled, content with the feeling of walking into a space you knew so well - that knew you so well. You were excited, your adrenal gland suddenly pumping you with adrenaline and dopamine.

You were home.

That euphoric pairing was suddenly doused with cortisol as you turned towards the punching bags, only to be met with nearly a dozen lying flat, and a mass of dark wings kneeling on the hard ground.

A mass of dark wings that you could recognize with only the sound of them.

“Azriel,” you whispered, watching as he breathed heavily, clutching his bleeding hand. He was surrounded by small sprays of crimson blood and clear sweat, painting the floor a muted color. His expression was...pained, haunted.

It was his right hand he was clutching.

“Azriel,” you said again, a bit louder that time, and picked up your stride. He hinted at no recognition.

Your own pained hand was long forgotten.

You reached him quickly, kneeling down beside him and touching his shoulders gently. You turned him to look at you, tempted to finally understand the exact feeling of his face slightly stubbled, but his head remained low.

“Azriel, what the fu -” you began, but were unable to form another syllable when his golden eyes connected with yours.

He looked up at you like a boy, a little boy, who had been pushed too far. And yet, at the same time, the Azriel who quickened your heart with only a glance was still there, giving his face and body the look of what you could only describe as a young, bleeding god. Covered in sweat and tears and blood, his hair soaked with the same alloy, he was a fallen angel, begging for mercy.

His eyes said to you make it stop. Please, make it end.

“Az,” you whispered, and he fell into your arms.

Your brain instantly tore you in half. You had never felt so overjoyed and crestfallen in the same moment.

His face was pressed against your collarbone as he began to weep, and his arms wrapped around your waist. He was timid at first, waiting for you to push him away, but you didn’t. Your body molded him to you, pressing him against you and holding him like glass. He was shaking, sweating, and bleeding all over you, enough that blood dripping from his mouth had begun to soak through your shirt. You closed your eyes and held him impossibly closer, and brought your still throbbing hand up to the back of his neck.

Every part of his body that you could feel was warm - too warm.

“Azriel,” you whispered, your voice suddenly cracking at the effort to speak, “what happened?”

He said nothing.

“Why are you down here, Azriel?” you asked, beginning to rub your fingers along the top of his spine. “Tell me why.”

He inhaled shakily, his hot breath mixing with the heat of his blood still staining you, and tried to speak. Nothing escaped besides another quiet sob.

This Spymaster, Illyrian warrior, the strongest there had ever been, was shattering in your arms.

“Please just tell me,” you whispered again. It was your own way of begging him to get up again, be the male who never cracked, never crumbled. He was a rock - he was always a rock - and seeing him like this was scaring the living shit out of you.

He had to have caught on, because after a few shaky breaths, he whispered quietly enough for only you to hear. “Because I can still smell him on you.”

Your eyes widened, and a copper taste coated your tongue.

“You...” you whimpered, “you smell him?”

Suddenly Azriel pushed himself off you and looked at you with something other than pain and hurt.

It was...you didn’t know what it was.

“Yes,” he replied, his bloodied, broken hand trembling, “that’s all I can fucking smell and see. I can’t stop it. No matter what I do, I can’t stop it.”

You recalled Rhysand’s words from the past, about Feyre.

When I would feel her on Tamlin, he said, it was all I could see. I couldn’t stop it.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Azriel continued, “my chest...it hurts.”

It was all in my chest, Rhysand had said, the pain was, at least, The rest was somewhere deeper, like it was engrained in me. The wrongness of it was inside of me.

“It’s inside of me, Y/N.” Azriel’s mouth was dripping blood now, adding to the mural he had painted on the floor, “I don’t...your hand?”

You looked down at your limp one, and back up at him.

“You...you felt it?” he asked, referring to the shattering of his own bones.

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks, but from something other than pain. Your voice was breathy and perfumed with triumph as you traced the pattern in both Az and Rhys’s words. “Yes.”

Azriel’s defeated eyes suddenly lit with curiosity. “How...how is that possi -”

“The pain’s right here, isn’t it?” you interrupted him, putting your left hand on the area right beneath your breasts. “Right here?”

You moved your hand to the same area on his chest, and he nodded.

“It burns, doesn’t it?”

“Everywhere,” he agreed.

You nodded. “It’s deep, like in your bones it feels -”

“- wrong.” He completed your sentence for you.

You smiled, big enough to wrinkle your irises, and kissed him.

He was bloody and hot, but you kissed him anyway, hard enough for drops of it to begin to drip down your lips as well.

You pulled away and took his injured hand in yours. “Why do you think I was with Ozia in the first place?”

Azriel’s voice was quiet and unsure. “I... I don’t know.”

“Because he was as close to you as I could get,” you said with a chuckle. “I thought, after a century, there was no hope. That the Cauldron destined you for someone else. I figured, if I couldn’t have you, I would drown the grief in someone who I could pretend was you.”

His eyes widened, and he licked his bloodied lips before asking, “Did it work?”

You chuckled back and kissed his cheek. “Not even close.”

With your lips still buzzing, he pulled you in for another kiss, and finally - finally - the cracks in your chest bloomed into a bond. It was soothing, spreading itself over all the wounds that remained open from a century of festering, and replaced them with a garden of roses. The feeling stretched itself around your body, wrapping you in a cocoon of solace. You had been carrying the ache of an untethered line in your body, and it had finally found its dock.

He kissed you softly, holding back enough to prove to you of his uncertainty, before you pulled away and mumbled, “I feel it too.”

He swallowed and smiled, enough to crinkle the skin around his eyes and accentuate his dimples. With his blood still dripping from both of your mouths, he said with full confidence, “You’re my mate.”

You wiped the blood from his chin and brushed back the strands of hair sticking to his forehead as you replied, “And you are mine.”

With eyes only filled with love, Azriel said, “So that’s why I wanted to tear his jaw off.”

You smiled and pressed your foreheads together, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. Your shattered hands were placed on top of each other on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said to him. “I thought the pain I felt was merely jealousy, and I was with Ozia to escape from it. If I knew you were experiencing it too, or if I was honest from the beginning, you never would have gotten hurt.”

You leaned back to look him in the eye as you said, “I am sorry I hurt you. I am sorry I left you to do the route alone. I am sorry for all of it.”

He only smiled. “I had every opportunity to be honest too, and I didn’t take it. This isn’t your fault.’

You nodded, but he kissed you again. “This isn’t your fault.”

You kissed him back, showing him you believed him through your tongue and teeth.

You had dreamed of this moment, internalized every spat of poetry Rhysand and Cassian had iterated about the feeling of it, but nothing could have prepared you to know the feeling of being honestly, rawfully, and purely loved.

Taglist (if you’d like to be added please let me know!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @xxpeachyxo @evlyncelia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @redhighlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-sculpture @wolfyland7 @are-y0u-serious-blog @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff @simplysensual @hernameispa @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5 @saphiraprince22 @azsazz @thatonespriteobsessedbitch @moisyinfluencerstrawberry @bigcreatorwombatdreamer

#Azriel #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar #acowar #acofs #acomaf #acofas #acotar fanfiction #sarah j maas #tog #crescent city fanfic

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crucifiedfaerie · 6 months

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Growing Pains | Pt. 1 ༉₊˚✧

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Fem!Reader

➴ Summary: He loved you, he left you, and now he will stop at nothing to get you back.

➴ Word Count: 1.3k

➴ Warnings: smut in future chapters so 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stalking, kidnapping, lots and lots of angst, a little blood, slight death mention, kylo is kinda soft for a min but he's still kylo ren so mean!kylo, flashback dream, established relationship with ben, crylo ren, reader is wallowing and low key wants to die

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )

A/N: lowkey (high key) cried while writing this. did not intend for this fic to be so sad right off the bat but here we are. so apologies for that. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy !! <3

Your head was spinning as you clutched your saber, the yellow glow reflecting off your teary, panicked eyes. You don't know how long you had been running, it felt like ages. The salt from your tears stung your face where twigs and branches had slashed you. Something had been hunting you. A dark, looming creature in a mask that you knew was never going to stop until it was dead or had you in its grasp.

You stopped in a clearing, frantically whipping your head around, looking in every direction. The moss felt soft underneath your bare feet that were sore from running, and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not even the wind or the birds made a sound and the hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up.

Before you could even process the sound of the branch snapping behind you, everything went black. The last thing you remember feeling was being caught by two strong hands before being enveloped in the dark void of sleep.

It was the same dream as every night, and despite how heartbreaking it was to wake up from, you found great comfort in it. After six years, you had accepted at some point that sleep was going to be the only place you'd ever see him again.

"Do you ever wish you were a bird?" Ben turned his head to look at you, that same smile on his face he always seemed to have when he was in your presence.

You laughed at him, "I can't say it's something I've ever thought about. Do you?"

The two of you had been laying in a flower meadow, watching the clouds and birds go by as the sky faded to an orangey-pink. He let go of your hand to roll closer to you, and he brushed your wind blown hair out of your face.

You picked pieces of grass from his dark hair as he spoke. "Of course I do. If we were birds, we could go anywhere together, we could fly far away from here and we would have no responsibilities." He smiled down at you.

Before you could respond to him, everything faded away. Ben, the pink sky behind him, and the warm meadow all slipped through your fingers like sand. Despite it's own despair, your brain threw itself into a different memory. A much darker, more painful memory.

"Get away from me!" Ben screamed at you, pointing his saber at you. The rain beat down on the both of you, soaking your clothes and chilling you down to the bone.

You looked at him, the betrayal clear in your eyes. "This isn't you, Ben... I don't understand, please help me understand. Why are you doing this?" Your voice broke as you pleaded with him, your warm tears mixing with the cold rain.

He ignored your pleas and looked down at you with an expression void of emotion. "Maybe you never knew me to begin with."

In the blink of an eye he was gone, leaving you alone and cold in the rain. Your broken sobs were drowned out by the heavy rain as you realized nothing would ever be the same again.

When you awoke, the painful throbbing in your head came crashing down on you immediately. Your body ached as you sat up from the concrete floor of the cell you had been put in, and you lifted your hand to the side of your head. When you looked at your fingers they were covered in flaky, dried blood.

When you fully came to your senses, you saw him, sitting across from you on the other side of the room. Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the First Order and most feared man in the galaxy was mere feet from you, simply staring at you. You weakly scrambled backwards to put distance between you, your head hitting the wall behind you, causing you to wince.

He stood, holding a damp cloth in his gloved hand. "Don't do that. You're hurt enough as it is." Kylo said blankly through his modulator, before crouching down in front of you, attempting to be at eye level despite his dark helmet separating the two of you.

He reached his hand out towards your face. You frantically shook your head and inched away from him, causing him to sigh and use the force to freeze you in place. "Stop moving, I'm trying to help you." He sounded annoyed, but he began to gently wipe the blood from your face with the cloth.

You winced at the contact, which he noticed. "I'm sorry, I'm almost done." The modulator in his helmet stripped his voice of any emotion, but you could've sworn there was a hint of sympathy in his tone.

Once he finished, he released you and leaned back slightly as if to admire his work, before nodding at you. "You must be terrified. My intention was not to hurt you, I thought it would be easier to catch you... I suppose I was wrong." His modulated voice crackled.

You saw your reflection in his visor, your expression terrified and eyes sunken. You began to cry. "Why am I here?! I j-just want to go home, I want t-to go back to Ahch-To, please!" You begged him through broken sobs.

Kylo tilted his head slightly. "Now why would you want to go back there? It isn't like you have anyone to go back to but the terrible memories." His voice was now cold, calculated.

Your brow furrowed. "How would you know that?! You know nothing about me!" You shouted at him, tears streaming down your face.

He laughed through the modulator, as if there were some inside joke you had no part in. "On the contrary. I know plenty about you."

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him, angry and confused. "Who are you?"

He sighed. "In due time, you will understand. In the meantime, eat." He pushed the tray of food that had been sitting next to you when you woke up closer to you, before standing up. "I'll be back later. If that food isn't gone when I return, you won't like the consequences." He turned around swiftly and made his way to the door.

"Why didn't you just kill me in that forest?" You said weakly.

Your question made him freeze. He tensed in the doorway, and didn't turn to look at you before speaking. "In due time, you will understand." He repeated, only he sounded... pained this time. He quickly left, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

You picked at your food, feeling the sorrow and rage boiling inside you. You screamed, throwing the tray at the door before curling up into a ball and sobbing against the cold, concrete floor of the cell.

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel the warm, comforting embrace of Ben, but you knew it would never come. There was a song he would always sing to you, to calm you down. As you laid there crying, you began to hum the tune to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Kylo stood outside the door to your cell, listening to your outburst. He sighed, leaning against the wall, deep in thought. He was quickly pulled from his thoughts though, by your humming.

He froze. Despite your broken sobs, he recognized it immediately. He had almost forgotten about that song, it reminded him of a version of himself that he had spent six years trying to kill. Kylo didn't realize he was crying until he felt a tear slip out of the bottom of his helmet. He quickly wiped it away with a gloved hand and inhaled sharply, before walking down the dimly lit hallway, away from your cell.

#kylo ren #ben solo #star wars #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #star wars x reader #kylo ren fanfic #ben solo fanfic #starwars fanfic #star wars sequel trilogy #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #crucifiedfaerie #saint writes !

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cloudbersoo · 6 months

Text

love letters｜lee sohee

synopsis: you wished to find out who your secret admirer is.

tags: lee sohee x gn!reader, high school au, fluff, troublemaker x class president, slight misunderstanding, happy ending

word count: 1.8k

my playlist while writing: good enough by chanyeol, spring day by bts, tomorrow today by jj project and here always by seungmin

another day, another letter. since last month you’ve started receiving mysterious love letters from a secret admirer. they always appear on your locker when you least expect it. sometimes it’s a cheesy pick-up line, and other times it’s a heartfelt poem. one thing common with each letter was its horrific handwriting. some days you struggled to read what your admirer had written because of how messy the writing was. but in the end, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

if you were a song, you’d be the best track on the album.

a smile rose to your face as you walk into the classroom. the day seemed a little brighter, the weight of your shoulders felt a little lighter. but the moment was ruined quicker than it had started, when you heard one irritating voice coming from the back of the room. “good morning class president!” lee sohee shouted with a big grin on his face.

one day lee sohee was going to be the death of you. he was the so-called ‘troublemaker’ of the class, and he made sure to make your life a living hell. sohee interrupts classes, asks stupid questions and then makes you explain things to him like he’s some type of baby who doesn’t understand anything.

“morning,” you answered in a monotone voice, sitting down on your seat. you turn to your friend seunghan, rolling your eyes out of annoyance. the boy next to you gives you a knowing look, a teasing smirk rising to his face. “don’t” you whined, pointing your finger at him. you turned back to the letter in your hand, your mind calming almost immediately.

“another letter? i swear you have admirers left and right,” seunghan laughs.

“haha, sadly i only care about one,” you said, sinking your head into your arms. if only there was a way to find who your secret admirer was.

meet me at the gates after school? can’t resist you anymore ;)

you were bubbling with excitement when you found the latest letter in your locker. today was finally the day when you were going to meet the love of your life – or so you thought. you were happily packing your stuff when you heard anton’s voice coming from the classroom door. “y/n, are you ready for the meeting?” his quiet voice asked. right. you completely forgot about the student council meeting. your secret admirer must have to wait.

the council meeting lasted a lot longer than you had expected. you were now rushing towards the school gates in the hopes that the person who has been sending you letters for months would still be there. but you were too late. the only other people around were the other student council members, none which looked like they were waiting for you.

you missed them.

you can’t believe it. after all this time, you still couldn’t meet the person who has lightened your days for so long. you wished that by finally meeting your admirer you could pay all the kindness back to them. disappointed, you started making your way to the bus stop closest to your school. you didn’t think your day could get any worse, but the universe was ready to prove you wrong. the only other person at the bus stop was none other than lee sohee himself, probably ready to make your life a misery.

but he didn’t even seem to notice you. sohee ran his hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his mouth. you’ve never seen him like this. sohee was never quiet, but then again, maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought.

finally sohee senses your presence, his gaze moving to you. his eyes widened in surprise as his body jumped off the bench. you gave him an awkward wave, but it didn’t seem to go too well with sohee. the boy walked away before you could say anything. as sohee left in a hurry, he failed to notice the notebook he had forgotten on the bench. you heard your bus coming from behind as you picked up the book. quickly getting into the bus, you took a seat next to a window. you took a closer look at sohee’s notebook and you couldn’t help but to get curious on what’s inside of it.

sohee wouldn’t mind if he never finds out, right?

you opened a random page somewhere in the middle of the notebook. the page was filled with what seemed to be song lyrics.

don’t wanna waste all these meanings hold tight and dream on it’s what i love the most you with me, our memories

that’s when it hit you. “this handwriting is familiar,” you mumbled. opening your packbag, you searched for any of the letters you have received. reaching one of them, you put the letter next to sohee’s notebook – the handwriting matched.

sohee was your secret admirer?

sohee was a mess. what a fool he was, thinking that you could ever accept his love. maybe staying as your secret admirer would’ve been a much better choice. but it was too late now, after you saw him yesterday after school. you must have been so disappointed to see him waiting for you at the gate. you didn’t even have the guts to come and reject him!

sohee never thought about love before. he felt like it was a waste of time at this age. he could worry about relationships later, but then he laid his eyes on you. well, the two of you had known each other for years, but something changed a couple of months ago. sohee was going on with his day like normal, waiting for you to enter the classroom so he could bother you as usual. and then you walked in…

it was like time had stopped. the sun peeked through the blinds and the light shined on you. sohee’s heart skipped a beat, red colour creeping to his cheeks. you looked utterly beautiful. had you changed your hair? or did you put on some makeup? the boy didn’t know what had come over him. how did you suddenly make him feel this way? or had he always liked you and just didn't realise?

but now he’ll have to put those feelings aside and move on. that meant no more letters for you, as much as that hurts him.

class was ending and sohee hadn’t really seen you around all day. you must be busy with student council stuff like you usually are, which for once was good with him. the boy had no idea what class he had just sat through, as he had not paid any attention whatsoever.

so much so that he had failed to notice you entering the class. it wasn’t until you stood in front of him that his eyes spotted you. his eyes widened, like a deer in the headlights. you placed something down on the table, but sohee couldn’t see what as he was unable to tear his eyes off of you. you were gorgeous, and he could feel heat rise to his face. you were the only one who had this type of impact on him. too deep in his thoughts, he didn’t realise you had started to speak.

“earth to sohee?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “can we talk for a moment? i get if you’re busy, but i think we have some things to discuss,” you spoked, nervousness peeking through your voice.

sohee couldn’t possibly resist you, how could he? he stood up immediately, getting ready to leave the room with you, but your arm stopped him. “your notebook, it’s yours right?” you said, pointing at the book on his desk.

“oh right!” sohee laughed, grabbing the notebook and following you out of the classroom.

silence fell between the two of you as you sat down at the schoolyard. you were nervously playing with your fingers, finding the right words to say. sohee wasn’t saying anything either, which was very unlike him. you decided to take a closer look at him, something you’ve never done before. his eyes were soft as they wandered around, not quite sure where he was supposed to look. he was biting on his pouty lower lip, and there were a couple moles on his left cheek. his short hair was messy, pointing in different directions. sohee was nice to look at, he was cute even.

“are you just gonna stare at me all day? i mean i get it, i’m quite the catch” the boy finally spoke, his eyes meeting yours, a smile rising to his lips.

a blush made it to your cheeks. “so… you wrote me all those letters?”

“yeah, sorry to disappoint you,” he mumbled while lowering his head again.

“what do you mean?”

the boy scratched the back of his neck, his sweet smile long gone. “that it was me, i mean, you didn’t show up yesterday and i thought-” he started, his voice weak.

“i had council stuff to finish and couldn’t make it on time” you interrupted the boy, wanting to finally explain yourself. “then at the bus stop you were all weird and you forgot your notebook… and i took a quick look and your handwriting matched the letters but at that point i was already on my way home…” you went on. maybe you and sohee had started on the wrong foot, but now that you knew he had this softer side to him, you were starting to see him in a new light.

you moved on your seat, shifting a little closer to the boy. “i’m glad to know it was you,” you confessed, smiling at him. sohee’s head snapped towards you, face full of surprise. a shy smile rose to his lips, his cheeks hueing pink.

“really?” he asked shyly. you took his hand to yours, as you nodded as conformation. “oh wow, this is not what i expected to happen,” sohee giggled, squeezing your hand. he looked deep into your eyes, his own ones conveying all the feelings he had carried inside him all this time. his hand came up to your face, moving away a few strands of your hair. his palm was warm, just like him. like magnets, the two of you started to lean into each other.

“is this when we kiss?” he said with a teasing smirk on his face. your face dropped, of course sohee would say something to ruin the moment.

a sigh left your mouth. “just kiss me already,” you replied, grabbing into the collar of his shirt.

“gladly” he answered and finally your lips connected. his lips were as soft as they looked. both of sohee’s hands held your face, slightly squeezing your cheeks due to the boy’s excitement. he smiled into the kiss, a small laugh leaving his mouth.

you backed down a little, wanting to have a look at the boy. “what’s so funny?” you asked, voice filled with amusement.

“just happy, that’s all” sohee said, giving you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. one that you wouldn’t mind getting used to. “now give me another one!” the boy in front of you said excitedly.

and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

- end

#riize #riize sohee #lee sohee #riize x reader #riize imagines #lee sohee x reader #lee sohee fic #riize sohee x reader #riize seunghan #riize anton #hong seunghan #lee anton #riize fics #kpop #cloudbersoofic

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januaryembrs · 8 months

Text

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant/Marc Spector x reader [5]

description: Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission in Cairo: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.

word count: 8.1k

trigger warnings: major gore and violence warning (he is the God of violence after all :/) hints at Dove’s dark past, hints at prostitution/sexual exploitation. All involved are of age however. Feelings of worthlessness. Swearing.

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Do you ever feel dirty afterwards?” The soft voice asked from her right. She’d know that voice blind. Know it in any darkness. A call to a home she could never go back to.

“I feel like taking ten showers and walking through a car wash naked, and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Her own voice came. There was a tinkle of a laugh like a bell, yet the bitterness was clear in the single note. Her head turned to see her, her, the blonde girl that haunted her every thought, her every breath.

Grace.

Her face as supple and innocent as any nineteen year old, unmarred by the horrors of the world despite their place in it. Her eyebrows curved high on her face, forget-me-not blue eyes that watched the world outside their window with a longing she, herself, was more than familiar with. The two of them sat opposite each other on the wide window sill, legs bunched up to their chests, the gentle, first rays of morning sunlight falling on their faces. The two of them stared out into the rest of the world, a world they were not permitted to go without his say. The small trees that dotted the street swayed, the slow, warm breeze washing over them. The rare chance they had to take in fresh air. The two girls preened to its caress instantly.

“I sometimes think at least I’m useful here,” Grace said, her honey locks falling as she rested her head on the window, if only to get closer to the freedom on the other side, “I could be sleeping on the streets or in a place half as nice as this, alone, but at least here I’m with you,” She said, her bluebell eyes following as a pair of collared doves wove in between one another, their small, grey figures dipping through the air freely.

“It sounds fucked up, and maybe it is,” Her own voice came, her eyes also following the birds that seemed to be gloating about just how untethered they were to any place other than the winds that carried them, “But part of me, the disgusting part that I try ignore, feels wanted. Like those men want me, so much that they would even pay hundreds to see me.” Her breath steamed up the glass as she took a deep sigh, the confessions rolling off her lips. Because she knew Grace wouldn’t judge her. Grace would never. “It makes me think that maybe there’s some part of me that is actually worth wanting.”

“I’ll always want you,” Came the soft reply, her heart jumping into her throat with a small choke. She could never deal with mushy words, blatant affection from another being, the one way they differed. Grace was all about kind words, telling her how her heart felt, “Every bit of you,”

A tired grin spread on her face, “I wish it could be this easy with other people,”

“Why? Are you planning on replacing me any time soon?” Grace asked, leaning up to open the window further to let in the breeze. They only had a couple of hours before he would be back, and he hated when they sat in the window. Too many eyes, too many people to see them for free.

She chuckled, nudging the other girl with her leg in a small chastise.

“Never.” She said earnestly, watching Grace’s cerulean eyes follow a leaf fall to the ground elegantly. “Although, if we’re making requests, I’d like a best friend that would stop stealing my bras,”

“Maybe if the machine didn’t wreck all mine I wouldn’t have to-”

“Oh, give over, you like the lacy ones. Just admit it.” Grace blanched, her eyes flicking to the girl before a guilty smile appeared, showing off every one of her perfectly straight, white teeth.

“I didn’t realise they were so dear to you,” The girls giggled, the sun stroking both their faces, warming their cheeks gently. “I was wondering why I could see your nipples through your top,” A smack to the ankle closest to her.

“I’d like them back please. I’ll have you know the desperate ones pay extra for that shit,” She replied, the carelessness in her eyes dropping at the thought of their evening. He’d be back with clients, one for each of them, sometimes more.

He always came back with clients.

“And to think, I get to see them for free,” Grace teased, nudging her socked foot into her friend’s thigh to try garner some kind of amusement. But the moment was gone. The small bit of heaven they’d had between one another was gone. Because they knew this was it. This was all it would ever be.

Her bottom lip quivered. She wanted her brothers. She wanted her home, her real home, she wanted her old bed, her old room. She wanted her mother, she hadn’t wanted her mother in years. She even wanted her father, even if he was drunk as a skunk like the last time she’d seen him. She would take it. She wanted her normal job back, she swore she’d never complain about waitressing again if it meant being away from this. She wished she could bundle Grace up, disappear, just the two of them, far far away from all of this. Where they would never be able to touch either of them ever again. Where they would never be used as slabs of meat for his amusement.

A small, pale hand slipped into hers, her fingers warm and grounding as they intertwined with hers. She hadn’t realised she was crying until she looked up and saw Grace with her eyes welled up too. The pair had never been able to stand seeing the other cry without choking up.

Grace’s summer sky eyes were wide; fat, remorseful bunching tears on her perfect lash line. They were still in their pyjamas, hair still messed up, love bites and mysterious fingerprints lining her throat from where last night's customer had gotten too rough.

She was dragged into a hug, an embrace she only ever felt from Grace. Those men, those vile men only ever sought pleasure, cold, aggressive pleasure that soiled the very meaning of the word. But Grace was soft. Warm. Gentle. Grace was everything she needed to keep her head on her shoulders. Grace was every bit of her she wasn’t, like the pair had been cleaved apart atom by atom at birth and when they hugged it was as though their bodies knew one another the way you only know yourself. Like two halves trying to stitch themselves back together.

And they were both crying. Crying for the lives they’d had before all of this. Before those men that came at night, handing him money at the door, before they put on their bedroom voices and sultry eyes. The performance of a lifetime. She missed her brothers, she thought of what she was going to write in her next letter home, though she knew she would never get a response. She wished she hadn’t been so hard on them. She wished she’d gotten a chance to say goodbye properly.

“I want to go home,” She sobbed, a calming hand running through her hair as Grace soothed her, though she could tell by the way her face nuzzled into her neck that the sentiment was shared.

The two nineteen year olds held each other, the only solace they had in this world being one another’s gentle embrace. The only person they would ever need in the cruel hands of a world like this.

“I’ll be your home,” Grace mumbled, the words dying on her skin as the tears fell down her own cheeks, “I’ll be your home as long as you need one,”

She nodded, a silent thankyou for the selfless offer. Golden curls surrounded her vision, Grace’s arms squeezing her tighter. As if to assure her that this was it. This was all she would need. That she was never, ever letting go.

And then, silently, tiredly, Dove woke up alone.

“Good morning,” She chirped, Marc wincing at the perky nature of her tone. He sat up with a wince, his back screaming in aches from the hard sofa. It was a wonder he’d gotten any sleep at all, let alone not woken up when she’d seemingly left the room for a wander around.

“Where have you been?” His voice was gravel, a rumble of fatigue erupting from his throat. He took in the flowy bottoms she wore, the basic white shirt she’d thrown on over it and the sunglasses perched on her messy hair. In her hand was a loose, netted bag, entirely crammed with fruits. Mangoes, pomegranates, bananas, the biggest oranges he’d seen in years. He remembered Layla feeding him one at their wedding, remembered thinking they were the best thing he’d ever tasted. As if to read his mind, she took one for herself and handed him the entire bag.

“Exploring. Getting breakfast. Your phone’s been buzzing, I think your friend needed you,” She said, the spirited tone in her voice never dropping as she slumped on the bed, “I still stink of airport,”

“Go take a shower,” Marc resolved quickly, peeling back the orange, the sticky juice running over his fingers immediately. Fresh, better than any fruit he’d had in England that had been packaged and stored and frozen.

He barely saw the way her eyes twitched at the word as she tucked into her own fat slices of the citrus. “Can’t, there’s only a bathtub,” She said, cheeks full with syrup, “I think they were expecting a honeymoon, there’s all petals and candles and shit,” She said, her eyes flicking to the window to see the outside world.

“So just have a bath-”

“What’s your friend say?” She cut him off, though there was no malice in her tone. Only intrigue.

Wiping his hand clean, he reached into his pocket for his crappy burner phone. The single text from his friend with a thousand connections all over Cairo read:

Harrow is here. Aali’s waiting in Khan el-Khalili for you and your friend, said he’s got insight where they’re heading. Said some of Harrow’s men are on his tail. Better hurry, Spector.

Marc expected as much, though he’d have thought he’d have at least enough time to have breakfast before the day’s stress would already begin.

“One of his informants is waiting for us not far from here. I’ll call us a cab,” Marc replied, scarfing down the last of the tender segments, trying not to groan at how they exploded in his mouth.

“Informants,” She echoed, her eyes wandering the ceiling as she herself let the saccharine juice slide down her throat, “Makes us sound like James Bond. Although I’m pretty sure the movies would have gone a lot different if Bond got killed and resurrected by some ancient deities,”

Marc said nothing, focusing his attention on looking for a nearby taxi rank.

“I mean I suppose they do kind of have him die over and over again, when they need fresh meat to keep their movies running. I never really understood the whole thing for Bond, he seems narcissistic, arrogant at best. If you ask me, the movies don’t need more men fucking the pretty women and killing anyone they can get their hands on. The entire thing is just sixty years worth of men tugging themselves to fast cars and blood and the two dimensional women getting seduced by the hot sociopath-”

“Something’s wrong,” Steven said from inside the body, the first he’d spoken up in two days, “Something’s wrong with her,”

“Aside from the fact she doesn’t know when to shut up?” Marc asked, though he too had noted the unusually chatty mood she was in today, “No wonder you two get along so well,”

“Marc,” He snapped, his brown eyes large and concerned as he stared at her from the mirror, “I’m serious. She never waffles on like that unless she’s bothered by something,”

“And the whole shaken not stirred thing? Talk about pretentious-”

“She’s talking about the politics of a martini. I think she’s just had an extra dose of sugar this morning,” Marc shut his phone off after confirming a cab, his own hardened eyes flicking to where the woman seemed to be lost in her own spiel to even notice he hadn’t yet said a word.

“Talk to her,” Steven ordered, though his eyes never tore from her troubled gaze at the ceiling.

“And like, were it any other franchise, twenty seven movies seems ridiculous. Imagine twenty seven Harry Potter movies? Everyone would be old as hell by the time they finished. Harry Potter and the Midlife Crisis sounds shit-”

“Are you feeling okay?” Marc cut her off, her head snapping to his as if to be yanked out of a train of thought. Her eyes looked bleary, as if she still had yet to fully awaken.

“Huh?” She asked, briefly looking away to grab a plump, fuzzy peach out of the netted bag, “Yeah, I’m peachy,” She snickered to herself before realising he wasn’t laughing at all. Not even a small smile. “Come on, that one was too obvious,”

“Steven said you’re trying to distract yourself,” He said, a hint of an accusation in his tone. He caught the moment her innocent expression faltered for a slight second, before the mask slipped back on and her bright smile was plastered across her too tightly scrunched cheeks.

“Nonsense.” She brushed off, though her eyes quickly trailed away from his, leaning for a small backpack of her belongings. “Are we heading out now?”

With that, the woman strode towards the front door, dropping her sunglasses back over her eyes.

“I’ll meet you down there,” She said over her shoulder, briskly leaving Marc to get some real clothes on for the day, having only slept in an old shirt and some shorts.

“I’m telling you, mate. There’s something up,” Steven said, finally turning to his alter who stood, lost for words, his eyes softening at her retreating figure.

And Marc knew he was right. He could deny it all he liked, but it didn’t stop it from being true.

And just like that, the woman had become a total mystery to him once more.

“So where exactly was it you said your informant was?” She asked, the two of them standing in a back alley, Marc’s eyes glued to his phone as he awaited further instructions.

“Somewhere around here- you know it’s kind of difficult to type these things when he’s being tracked by trained mercenaries,” Marc snipped, making the woman roll her eyes as she leaned against the sandstone wall. Sighing through her nose and pursing her lips, she readied to open her mouth again, no doubt about to say something that would only serve to piss him off more when her ears caught the sound of a muffled scream.

Head flicking up to the top of one of the buildings, she scanned Marc’s face for any sign of alarm, only to find him still staring at his little black phone in frustration. Thinking she was simply imagining it, she readied herself to brush the sound off, when she heard it again, a moan of pain accompanying the yelp.

“Did you hear that?” She asked, standing up straight, her ears pricked to the rooftops.

“Huh?” Marc sounded annoyed, though his face melded into concern when he saw the focused look in her eyes, attention caught between the terraces, “What? Hear what-“

“Shhh,” She raised her hand to silence him, slapping her hand fully over his mouth when his lips parted with a pissed off quip ready to roll off his tongue. Her head snapped to one rooftop in particular, her eyes wide and worried as she heard the switch of a blade, a gasp of a beaten man and a chuckle of five, sinister voices. “They got him, they got your friend.”

“Where?” Marc asked, phone long forgotten as he grabbed her hand off his mouth, barely needing to question how she knew. His senses had become so far enhanced with Khonshu’s suit as well, it was only natural that she’d started to feel the full effects of her powers too.

“Over there,” She pointed in the general direction as Marc immediately set off for a fire escape leading to the upper levels.

“You stay here, I’ll go get him-”

“What- Stay here?” Came her immediate protest, “I can help! Let me help,”

“Absolutely not, you’ll just slow me down,” Reeling back in offence, Marc cast her a glance when he saw the hurt in her face, her lips pouting slightly and eyes drooping in sadness, “Don’t give me that look. I just don’t want you to see something you might not like,”

Marc knew what those mercenaries would do to his informant, what they would do to them if they so happened to stumble across them. The thought of their dirty, blood stained hands on her, hurting her, it was enough to have Marc disregard any kind of puppy dog eyes she gave him. No matter if it did make his chest twinge with guilt. He should be nicer to her, he chastised himself.

“Let the mutt have a chance,” Teased a booming voice from behind the two of them. Dove whirled around, stumbling backwards into Marc’s chest when she saw a ten foot tall skeleton of what seemed to be a bird-man type animal. Its concave eyes leered down a long beak at her smaller figure, the huge creature seemingly quite relaxed as it leaned in, its chest broad covered in wraps of linen as if he were once mummified.

Jumping back in freight as the bird got closer, Dove yelped as she felt Marc’s arms wrap around her biceps to stop her from stumbling over herself, “What the fuck is THAT?”

Khonshu only laughed, his deep timbre shaking her to her bones.

“This is Khonshu, I’m his avatar. Same way you’re Seth’s.” Marc said bitterly, glaring at the stupid bird that seemed to find her terror hilarious.

“I think my little lamb would do nicely, Spector,” Came another voice, and a dark phantom emerged from behind the silhouette of the bird headed god. The air escaped her lungs, and she would have stumbled even further back had Marc not been behind her, Seth’s dark face coming into view as if he had been summoned by the very mention of his name, as was the rule with every child’s nightmare.

His night black eyes peered down at her from atop a set of grinning, blade-sharp teeth, jaws pulled into a mix of amusement and threat. His body towered over even Khonshu once he stood at full height, broad arms muscled and fleshed out unlike the skeleton, his own staff also grinning at the horrified woman.

“Come now, little lamb,” His dark growl of a voice had her knees weakening and bones shaking the moment she heard it. The voice that had been haunting her since that night in London, when she’d woken up with blood covering her head to toe. “We’ve got a job to do,”

She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t go so easily this time.

“Keep away from me,” She hissed, Marc releasing her as she trembled and retreated when Seth began prowling towards her, “I’m warning you, I am not going back to being your little puppet again- this is my body- you’d do well to get that into your head real fast-“

Seth simply laughed, Khonshu echoing him, making Marc’s head whip towards the moon god with an irritated frown. It was clear she was terrified, as would Marc be if he had a master so cruel and heinous to be controlled by. The thought only twisted the knife of guilt chiselling away at his gut further.

“Can’t you get him to leave her be?” Marc snapped, turning his attention to his own god with a sneer and a cold look in his once soft eyes, “We’re more than capable of handling a few mercs, why drag her into this?”

“I am not the one who dragged her into this, I would remind you, Spector,” Khonshu’s words cut deep, hardening the man’s expression more, “And even if I wished to stop this, Setekh is brother to Osiris. He holds more power, both in the eyes of the Ennead and in his own being, than I ever will. To go against him would be a death sentence for us both.”

Marc sucked his teeth, not ignorant to the commotion between the two to his right. Seth leaned in, a large, clawed hand outstretched as if to stroke her hair in an unnervingly gentle fashion. The same way he had the first moment he’d met the god of death. It reminded Marc of a patronising father, caressing a dimwitted child, or even an unsuspecting dog heeling for treats. The hand was met with a swift strike away by the human woman, eyes wide with fear, chest rattling with dread, akin to a cornered cat lashing out in self defence.

The four beings seemed to stop with her action. Marc’s eyes went between her and Seth, and for once Khonshu seemed to have gone quiet. And then, after a moment of painful emptiness, Seth chuckled once more. Not amused anymore, but a bitter rumble of fury, one that had Dove’s heart plummeting into her stomach, feeling as if the entire contents of it would come up any second now.

“The little lamb has fire?” Seth’s canine like head tilted, his tall, pointed ears going with it. Though, they didn’t flop like a dog’s would, no. They seemed to point towards her, sensing the unfiltered terror that washed through her bloodstream. A predator locked in on its prey. A wolf descending on a lone sheep.

“Keep away from me,” She repeated, the anger still in her tone, though it had now been diluted by the fear, the tremble in her throat giving her away. Seth grinned, though the smile was tainted. The jaw pulling into a snarl, his face becoming all the more sinister.

“I told you. You’re mine now, lamb,” He barked, his hand darting out and roughly grabbing a thick knot of her hair from the back of her skull, a mewl of shock slipping past her lips, “You’d do well to obey me next time,”

Obey. Obey him. She could think of nothing worse. She wanted to just kick and scream and spit and lash out all the more, writhe away from his touch, his touch that reminded her of his. As if he was no longer a ghost from her past, but was now haunting her still through the God of Death. She was tired of her body being taken from her; tired, so fucking tired of being told to sit and obey. She had obeyed. She had sat patiently, been the compliant little girl bending to a man’s vile words, she had been putty in his wretched palms.

She had obeyed him before, and now Grace was gone.

There was a single second where her gaze cut to Marc’s, eyes pleading with his coffee brown irises that seemed to diminish in all of their anger the moment she locked eyes with him, begging for help with a childlike terror, mouth pursed open ready to scream.

“Mar-” Was all she whimpered, before Seth’s claws latched onto her and her expression froze.

Marc was sure he’d killed her, was sure he’d crushed her fragile cranium in his bare hand just to prove to her the consequences of lashing out, the breath escaping his own lungs as he watched it happen, half guessing he was about to bite down on her soft face with those monstrous teeth of his.

But there was no blood, no chunks of flesh ripped from her as he thought. No scream of pain and torture.

Instead her scared face morphed into one of an entranced nothingness, eyes drooping from their usual expressive nature, chest evening out into calm breaths. Her pupils swirled in their pools of inky blackness, growing, devouring the rest of her iris, the whites of her corneas disappearing as the darkness took over, until she, too, looked down at him with malicious black sockets.

Her suit grew around her. Spreading over her clothes: a tight, black second-skin, gold bone-like details spindling around her limbs as the sable suit spread down her entire body. The muzzle slipped over her mouth and nose, as if she were a dangerous mutt in need of chaining. Controlling. Being taught to heed to its master. Marc knew it was Seth’s way of making her feel even less in control.

He said her name, taking a wary step in her direction, approaching a cornered animal in a snare. Her head seemed to tilt, midnight eyes locking in on his wary figure, though there was nothing behind those pools of darkness that gave hint to any recognition from the woman.

Because she was not there anymore. This was not her. This was Seth’s pawn, his puppet. His mongrel of a marionette. His Hellhound.

He called for her again, raising a large, olive hand in her direction, even if to lower the muzzle, even if to make her more human and less animal, only to be met by a husky growl from behind the wretched thing, a warning to keep away.

Marc’s chest felt pierced seeing her like this. Entirely not herself, entirely Seth’s play thing. A wild beast that would rip him to shreds if she got the chance. The healed bite on his thigh burned where she’d attempted it last time.

Seth laughed again, releasing his grip on her skull, where the two, upright ears now grew out of the hardened metal mask, no doubt an ego boost to his own handsome features.

“Don’t bother, Spector,” The god rumbled with sick delight, the woman’s head lowering at her master's voice, “She is entirely mine until I say so,”

Marc’s chest puffed out in annoyance, daring to stare down the God of Death for the offending comment. She was not his, she was a person. She was her own person, with her own mind and body that had been stolen from her, if a mind and body could even be taken from someone. Her soul; her sweet, gentle soul that Marc had started to adore was lost from those eyes, those feral caves of shadows that scanned the rooftops for their target. The life was gone from them, smothered by the darkness, by the bloodlust. The Hellhound was all that remained.

She stopped at one particular point as she had done when she was once again herself, waiting obediently by her master's side for a command.

He gave none, simply looking down at her approvingly before nodding a head in the direction of the mercenaries. That was all the signal she needed.

Marc had barely any time to prepare himself before he was scrambling after her darting figure, a black streak in front of his eyes that seemed to move faster than even his own brain could keep up with.

The hunt was on. The Hellhound had smelled blood.

She had given him a run for his money, quite literally. The Hellhound was fast, lithe, stealthy. Silent even when running at full pelt towards her target, even when jumping between buildings and sliding under thick planks of wood left over from decaying furniture. Never ceasing for breath, never slowing down for her partner in crime who was struggling with his human lungs to keep up with her.

Finally, the five mercs came into view, along with his informant who had certainly seen better days. His bloody nose and busted eye seemed the least of his worries however when Marc caught the glint of a switchblade in the sunlight, the knife being plunged into his gut before the two of them could get there, no matter how fast they had been.

Hellhound made the vault between the buildings in one, landing on the edge of the rooftop effortlessly, her demonic eyes narrowing in on the five men that stared back at them. Marc was shortly behind her, hopping down the short wall to the rest of the terrace he huffed as he caught his breath, coming to stand beside the woman.

“Oh shit,” Marc started, the mercenaries turning to look at the odd pair that watched them tensely, “You killed him? We needed to talk to that guy about a dig site,”

The men smirked, eyeing up the Hellhound with malicious intrigue. They missed the way her gloved fingers extended out into deadly claws, or the way her eyes honed in on the large blades they wielded, thinking of every way she would be able to disarm them.

“Guess I’m gonna have to talk to you instead,” Marc sighed, taking a single step towards the men as Hellhound widened her stance, two of them breaking away from their group to come near her.

“You’re too late. You’re never gonna find Harrow,” The tallest one commented, tossing his blade into the air in a gloating fashion, his smirk never leaving his face.

“Really?” Marc asked, watching the display with a tired eye roll, “Oh, what are we dancin’? We fightin’? What are we gonna do?”

The man carved a line in front of him with his blade stepping towards Marc while two of the others headed for the woman who had yet to show any sign of alarm at the scene. Marc readied himself to avoid the blades, his fists coming up to block his gut, hoping she would leave some part of them for the crows to pick at atleast.

He had seen what she had done to those Jackals. Men with knives wouldn’t touch her.

As if on cue, the men lunged for each of them. Marc busied himself with the three coming his way, a boy no older than sixteen following his peers blindly with a knife that looked uncomfortable in his young palm. But the bloodshed came from Hellhound.

The more broad of the two went first, serrated blade outstretched from his meaty arm. His hand was soon stopped by four blade-like claws digging into his wrist, slicing his veins down to the bone, blood spurting from him near immediately. He squealed, though the shock of his hand nearly being ripped off was nothing when her other palm was brought across his face in a slashing motion.

A centimetre higher and his eye would have been taken clean out.

The knife was dropped, a petrified look in the man’s eyes as thick blood streamed down his jaw, the second man ducking out from behind him with his own knife ready. He threw one slash towards her neck, already protected with a thick layer of the leather like suit, making the small weapon effectively useless had he even gotten close to her.

Which he didn’t.

She’d already easily dodged his advance, coming up to grab the back of his shoulder and smash his face against the stone wall behind them with a sickening crunch. Three of his teeth spilled onto the stone floor, nose flooding with the metallic liquid that dripped into his mouth. Claws dragged up into his hair, pressing harder than Seth had when he had grabbed her in a similar way, until she felt flesh squish and blood trickle over her palm. The man screamed, squirming under her grasp, which only had her holding on tighter, wrenching at his skull until he dropped to his knees and the knife slipped from his grasp with the white hot pain he was in.

Her gaze dropped to her left where Marc was still fighting the men that had headed for him, only to hear the younger boy behind them.

“In your face, foreigner,” He spoke in his Arabic tongue, throwing his smaller blade towards Marc’s head as the man was busy fending off an attacker.

But the blade never made it far. Her black, leathered hand snatched the knife by its serrated edge, though the woman did not show any signs of wincing at the sharp blade. Why would she? When all she felt was a lust for revenge watching the boy shrink back in fear, realising he was now without a weapon and had drawn the attention of the wolf looking creature.

She was a picture of a nightmare as she tossed his knife to the ground effortlessly, the darkness of her eyes swirling with rage as she stepped towards him. Hellhound wasn’t sure who that man was, the man who had tried to touch her infront of her master, the same man who had tried to caress her last time she was freed. She didn’t know him, but there was part of her writhing with anger that he had almost been harmed. Didn’t care for him, but was ready to rip this boy to shreds for attempting to hurt the man.

“Wait!” Marc called, knowing what she was about to do to that child. The two men that cowered, soaked in blood, were evidence enough that she was just as brutal as she had been the last time she’d been freed. But that boy was just a kid. Hellhound may not have a moral compass but he sure as hell did. As did Dove. And he knew she would hate herself if she knew what she was doing. If she hurt a kid. “Stop!”

But he didn’t have to intervene as the other man he’d been fighting tackled her from behind. The distraction seemed to have been her downfall as he managed to restrain his arms to her sides. She let out a snarl of anger, throwing her head back in an attempt to fend him off, only for him to wrestle her towards the edge of the building. Digging her heels into the floor, she squirmed, thrashing in his hold enough to have him loosen the slightest amount. She managed to dig her claws into his thigh, the man yawping in pain, shoving her hard to the side, aiming to have her over the side of the rooftop.

Call it luck on the man’s part, but his desperate strength seemed to be enough to toss her over the sharp drop, over the edge of the four story building, high enough for anyone to break enough bones to cause serious damage. If not death.

Marc had barely been able to stop her, though he knew better than those men that Seth would heal her, since he’d been so preoccupied fighting his own challenger, one he’d only just been able to disarm before she’d been thrown.

“Marc, don’t do it, Marc” Steven begged from the reflection of the knife, “Stop it, go help her. Just stop this,” The English man pleaded, his eyes worried as Marc began to feel a pull from inside the body.

His breath drew short, his head switching between the alters as Steven used his moment of weakness to take over, his only thought being to help his Dove.

Marc took over the body once more, ripping his consciousness back from Steven, to find himself in a taxi?

Taking a quick moment to understand where he was, he turned to the driver with a panicked tone, “Stop, please!” He asked, his Arabic rusty from what he’d been able to pick up on his missions and through Layla.

“You’re speaking Arabic, eh?” The driver asked, bustling around in his seat to glare at Marc. “Why are you acting like a foreigner?”

“Where are you taking me?” The man demanded, sure he already seemed batshit crazy to the innocent driver who looked just as confused as Marc felt.

“You said picking up your friend?” He replied, a pissed off look on his face. As if to have summoned the beast herself, a loud slam hit the bonnet of the taxi. It happened almost too fast, Hellhound stood tall on the car, a dent where she had dragged herself up onto the metalwork, her targets back in her sight. It wasn’t until Marc ducked out the car that he saw the five guys coming out of the building, seemingly relaxed until they saw the seething woman staring at them.

“Let me talk to you,” Marc yelled over the bustle of the traffic. The men looked at one another, the two of the more bloodied men taking one glance at where the woman hopped off the bonnet and scrambled to get away, leaving their other three partners on their own.

“You just let us go man,” The youngest said, watching the two with confused eyes, though the mercenary that had thrown her off the roof seemed to sicken visibly at the sight of her standing alive and well, looking more than furious.

The trio booked it before either of them could take a step further.

Taking off into the crowd, a whippet of a dark phantom once more, gaining on the three perpetrators faster than they could have imagined. Her boots were silent as they pounded on the stone floor below, as if she were a wraith coming to haunt their souls for running, a demon chasing their shadows. Inescapable. Inevitable. A hunter descending on its kill.

Marc took off after the leader and the youngest one as they skidded around a sharp corner of the bazaar, Hellhound pouncing after the other who decided to take the next corner in a desperate attempt to lose the two pursuers. But he was not so lucky. Hellhound was faster.

Two clawed hands latched onto his shoulders, shoving him roughly to the wall. The man was lifted clear off his feet, the beast of a woman scraping his body against the sandstone as if he were dead weight. He could do nothing but squirm as her grip tightened, thumbs sinking into his collar bones beneath his thin jacket. He hissed in pain, eyes widening as she leaned in with those sinister black sockets.

“Where’s Harrow?” A deep rumble came from her feminine chest, Coptic falling from her muzzled lips, the sound of it so vile he worried of pissing himself. Unlike anything he had heard before. Something so ancient he cursed whoever the being was that had disturbed the monster within her.

The man whimpered like a babe, squirming under her hold, only to have her force him harder into the wall until cracks appeared behind his frame where her strength concaved the material.

“Where is he?” She snarled in Arabic this time, her muzzle dropping around her jaw to reveal her elongated canines, snapping at his jugular in impatience.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” He mewled, his head twisting to get away from the creature, eyes squeezed shut in the hopes of his death coming quick and painless. “I swear, Abdulla, th-the one your friend went for, he was the one hired by Harrow. I don’t know anything,” He begged. She took a moment to stare him down through those soulless eyes of hers, before she gave a final grumble of feral anger and dropped the mercenary onto his shaking legs. Within a single blink, she had tore off to find wherever Marc had gotten to, not sure who he was yet but knowing he was different from these other men she saw through her puppeteered mind.

When Marc came to the second time after being dragged from fronting, his face was wet with sweat and something thicker, more copper smelling. His hands were sticky with the same substance, and it took him just a moment for his eyes to adjust to realise he had plunged a knife into Abdulla’s chest, a look of distant terror on the man’s face that soon dissolved into lifeless eyes rolling back as he fell to the ground.

The knife dripped with the last moments of the man’s life, Marc’s hand gripping the weapon tightly as he tried making sense of where he was. Somewhere out of the city, further away from prying eyes and civilians that a scene like this would alarm. A rocky causeway, a clearing atop a cliff of sorts, deserted and quiet where he could have his crisis in peace.

That is until he heard the laboured breathing behind him, a grunt echoing through the clearing. A dragging sound across the grainy sand beneath his feet, scraping against the rock that jutted out of the embankment.

Marc whirled around, Hellhound standing over the body of the man she had gone after, whether he had returned to help his friend or she had killed him on the spot he didn’t know. She stood eerily still, watching his face for any sign of life, to which Marc saw there was none at all, as if waiting for anything else to cross her path and end up on the receiving end of her claws.

A yawp of pain snatched their attention before Marc could approach her, though he was still unsure if that person receiving her wrath would be him. The man’s heart fell to his feet when he realised it was the kid, the young boy who had no clue of the world he was getting himself into, that had decades ahead of him to change his life around. He saw himself in those scared, almond eyes; saw himself at seventeen angry and hating the world, wanting only to hurt and be hurt by everyone around him as if to prove his bitterness right.

But there, on the sandy floor, the boy tried to crawl away with whatever strength he had left in his tired limbs that already seemed to have taken a slashing. By his own knife or Hellhound’s razorblades, he wasn’t sure.

A mean look settled on the man’s face, knowing what they had to do with the sole remaining witness, the last person who could give them information.

“Where’s the tomb?” Marc bit, but the boy was not listening.

His eyes were settled on the Hellhound, her figure silent, still. Black eyes trained on him, never wavering, never blinking. The boy, too scared to so much as rip his attention from the woman, dragged his lame leg away from the creature, knowing she would take the single second he looked away to strike. A jackal circling a rabbit in a snare.

“Take him to the ledge,” Khonshu murmured behind the two of them, Marc’s eyes turning down for a split second in sadness. He didn’t want to do this, he thought he was better than this. Hurting children, threatening little boys for problems that weren’t their’s.

He was no better than his mother.

“He’s just a kid,” Marc all but whispered, as if he knew how pathetic it made him seem to the god. But it was true. The boy couldn’t have been older than his late teens. He was just a boy.

“He’ll talk,” Khonshu reassured, though Marc knew he had no problem hurting those that endangered their mission, all in the name of protecting the greater good. But Marc knew better. There wasn’t a single bone in his body that wanted to threaten that kid any longer.

Just as the man pursed his lips to refuse, drawing a line in the sand that even he wouldn’t cross, another behemoth figure appeared behind the three of them, the warmth seeping from the humid air as if he had washed the group in a numbing haze the second he arrived.

“Go show him your bark is as bad as your bite, little beast,” Seth purred into her ear, his figure towering over her statuesque body. The two were a mirror of one another, her demeanour a projection of Seth’s darkest wishes. A phantom of chaos. An angel of death. A reaper of whoever Seth condemned to her paws.

A dog now with a command, Hellhound stalked forward, yanking the boy by his front with a single hand, dragging his body across the rough terrain as if he were no more than a sack of flour. Lifting him into the air, he was held by little more than his shirt and tie, the fabric snatching against his throat tightly.

“Where’s the tomb?” Marc reeled back, the voice that erupted out of her chest was not her own at all, was not even of this earth. It was a dark hiss, and gave his body the same goosebumps as Seth’s had the first moment he heard it. The boy stammered, moving his mouth as if to want to give her the answer but to come up empty. It only served to anger the girl as she scruffed his collar tighter, snarling into his face for a response, “Where is it?”

But the kid swallowed whatever words he was going to give, pulling a switchblade out from his trouser pocket.

“Praise Ammit,” He murmured. It came out forced, as if he’d been told those words by the people around him, as if he didn’t entirely believe them himself but had been programmed to cut his losses if he were at an interrogation like this.

Swiftly, before Marc could intervene and save the poor kid’s short life, the boy brought the knife up to the shirt that seemed to be the only thing stopping him from plummeting off the cliff edge and slit the fabric clean in two.

As expected, his body could do nought else but fall, fall silently and morbidly down the twenty-foot edge until something cracked with a loud thud as he hit the ground.

Which was exactly the moment Dove returned to her body.

Her consciousness was all but dragged from the pit of her mind, a surge of breath entering her lungs as if she were coming up for air from being held underwater. Where the hell was she? Why was she stood at a cliff’s edge?

Her face felt sticky, hands coated in a honey like wetness. In fact her entire body felt tight with the stuff. And the smell, the bitter iron that burned her throat with every breath.

A frown settled on her features, looking down at herself only to see a tight black suit that covered her entire body, metallic prongs ribbing the gear like bones. But that wasn’t what caught her eye. It was the reddish sheen reflecting off the black in wet patches, the viscid liquid entirely covering where her hands were exposed, the only trace of the suit being more boning up to her fingertips where lethal sharp claws lay, dripping with more of the claret vermillion substance.

Blood. She was covered in blood. Why was she always covered in blood?

She must have made some sort of wail of freight because then hands were grabbing her shoulders. Yelping, squirming, shrieking some more, she quickly realised the hands were turning her around, hands that were equally as bloodied and bruised. Olive shaded hands she had come to know quite well.

Hands that were stroking her hair, holding her head to try get her to calm down. All sound had run away with her in the midst of her terror, it took her a moment to understand he was talking to her.

“You’re okay, you’re alright,” He cooed, the blaring panic clear as day in her eyes as she drank him in, her mind ticking at the fact he had blood on his face too, trickled from a large gash on the side of his head down his jaw.

“Yo-you’re hurt,” Was all she could say, his big hands encompassing both sides of her head as she raised her own fingers to touch his wound gently. It was then she was reminded, as Marc unintentionally drew away from the sharp claws, that she was indeed a weapon. She would hurt him with a single touch, and then there would be more blood, his blood on her. She couldn’t bare the thought of hurting him. She’d rather cut her own throat here and now than harm him. “Marc, what did I do-”

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He repeated, stroking the side of face carefully, her eyes turning down in utter hopelessness. Her gaze briefly wondered over his shoulder to the bodies on the floor, her breath choking in her throat at the sight of them, the blood, oh fucking god theres so much blood- “Don’t look at that, you don’t need to see that, you’re okay,” Marc shushed her as her face filled with remorse, pulling her head into his chest, circling his muscled arms around her shaking body for a tight hug.

She squashed herself against him, hugging him back just as hard with the need for his comfort, burying her face into his top, eyes squeezing shut as if to hope to erase the nasty sight of the dead in front of them.

“Marc, what have I done?”

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huramuna · 4 months

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a maid's folly - chapter 8.

dark aemond x maid ofc

minor aemond x floris baratheon work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

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summary: a new maid from the Vale arrives at the Red Keep during a tumultuous time and becomes ensnared in the One-Eyed prince's web.

we're in the home stretch y'all! after this is the epilogue and then this story will be at an end! thank you for sticking with me through my second fic ever and my (hopefully) first completed one.

this chapter may seem a bit rushed in places but i promise its for a reason! aemond going through the grief of losing rosemary and it is taking a huge toll on him to a point where he really isn't living, but rather, living his life through snapshots. i hope i exemplified that correctly!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, power imbalance, religious guilt, dark Aemond, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, Aemond being a touch starved weirdo, possessiveness, jealousy, this is going to be ANGSTY

(don't fear) the reaper - blue oyster cult • its been so long - the living tombstone

Death was an odd thing for Aemond. He’d never experienced it really, not in any capacity specific to him.

The death of Laena Velaryon changed his life in many ways, technically, but the idea of her death, her corpse floating to the bottom of the sea to become fish food didn’t stir any emotions within him.

But now— that feeling… It was odd.

“Brother, there’s been an accident,” Helaena had said.

The next words that came from her mouth were garbled as his ears rang, a high pitched throbbing echoing through his skull. He must’ve said something alarming, as Helaena, who usually didn’t wish to touch or be touched, wrapped her arms around him as his legs failed, wobbling like a newborn fawn’s.

He didn’t really hear much of the substance of what Helaena said– there was no way around it: Rosemary was dead. She was… dead? Dead.

“Her… body? Her belongings?” he muttered, his one eye glassed over in a wet film of tears. Gods, when was the last time he cried?

“Burned. They found her… charred near flea bottom. She’s gone to the field– away from the rats and stags…”

“Flea bottom? W– what was she doing there?” Rats and stags?

Helaena shook her head.

“I want her things– all of them. Have them brought to my chambers.” he grunted, unlatching himself from Helaena’s hold and beginning to pace. He looked over, seeing her discarded nightgown and swiftly picked it up.

The servants gave odd looks once all of Rosemary’s things were cleared out of her chambers and brought to Aemond. They looked at him knowingly– but he couldn’t care. The opinions of sheep meant nothing to a dragon.

His chest clenched as he thumbed over a blue blanket, Rosemary’s ever familiar scent entangled into the fibers of the quilt. Aemond didn’t know much about Rosemary’s mother and only scarce details she shared about the Vale, but something about the blanket resonated within him. Sitting near the dying light of the sun as it receded over the horizon, he traced the stitches outlining the depictions of little lambs and nightingales, flitting near the moon and stars, braided into an image that felt so very much like her.

He expected her to slip through the passageway any moment now, murmuring apologies about her lateness and throwing herself into his open arms, peppering kisses along his skin–

She couldn’t just be dead, could she? They were plaited within one another’s being, he hadn’t asked her for a dance at a ball, nor taught her how to properly wield a blade– he didn’t even have the chance to introduce her to Vhagar, to take her flying. Aemond imagined her face, lips parted in awe as they would skim the stars above the clouds.

He wanted to share all of it with her, share more parts of him that he thought were recused so dreadfully far into the depths of his chest– he wanted to know her better. He should’ve gotten to know her more, know every freckle and stretch mark on her body and be able to map them without eyes, able to discern what she was thinking just by the wrinkle of her nose.

He just needed more time– more time with her, to know her more. It was already such a beautiful thing to be so intimate with someone like they had been, but there was a block. A small barrier that kept them from being linked wholly and irrevocably.

Not the sort of walls Aemond had within himself, no– those were self-imposed, defense mechanisms against further toil to his psyche, erected ever since Driftmark. Rosemary had a barrier that wasn’t of her own volition, but rather circumstances that she was dragged into. He placed her quilt onto his bed for the time being, eye roving around the room in thought.

His eye landed on a vase near the corner of the room. It was filled with wilting, ugly, yellow flowers. They had been bright and sprightly just days before, shoved into his hands by his wife-to-be. Not his Rosemary, of course– Floris.

Floris.

Brow furrowed, he walked to the flowers, plucking one of the petals and snapping it between his fingers. It left an ugly, powdery yellow-brown residue.

The barrier revealed itself.

–

Floris was sitting in her solar, feeling elated. The wedding was coming up soon and everything seemed to be perfectly aligned– not more bumps, hitches or maid-shaped indiscretions.

She leaned back in her chair relaxing for a mere moment before the door flew open, causing her to jump. Her eye caught a flash of white before he was in front of her, kneeled down, clenched fists on either side of her chair.

Aemond, her betrothed. His hair was a mess, his one violet eye wild.

“Hello, my betrothed,” he hummed. Heat broiled off of him like a roaring fire, the veins in his neck popping, his vessels running through his calloused hands thrumming. “I’d love to have a chat with you.”

Floris backed up on her chair, her throat going dry. “A-Aemond– this is highly irregular,” she stammered, her tongue feeling heavy and thick in her mouth. “What… would you like to chat about?”

He shoved back off of the chair, sending it and Floris skidding backwards. “I’ve heard that my poor sister’s handmaiden, she was so beloved by Helaena, has passed,” he began to pace, his arms behind his back, fists clenching and unclenching with barely contained rage, “That is quite sad, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes, quite.” Floris whispered, her gaze going to her hands.

“Look at me.” he stopped his pacing, his one eye trained on Floris as she avoided his sight.

“... Aemond– you must… understand,” she continued, “... please.”

“Look. At. Me.” he was upon her again, standing this time, like a foreboding cloud. He just needed to look into her eyes and he would know– no need for a trial, no need for a jury or judge. Merely an executioner.

Her head raised, blue eyes meeting his one violet. They were rimmed with tears, her pupils looking like maddened slits. “I-I had to!”

It was all the confirmation he needed. His hand slammed forward, a dagger sinking into the velvet of the chair backing, just an inch from Floris’ head. “Tell me what you’ve done.”

“It… it wasn’t me– not… not all of it, truthfully,” she admitted, her voice marred with choked sobs.

“You’re pathetic,” he spat, “Tell me, who was the intelligence in your little scheme, since it obviously wasn’t you– you don’t have the gall.”

Floris’ throat bobbed as she cried, “T-That horrible man– L-Larys Strong. B-but, I didn’t… I didn’t kill Rosemary– I just… wished to scare her away. If she’s dead– it was his doing!”

Aemond stared at her for a long moment, unblinking. “You will leave, Floris. You will leave the keep and go back to your father, tail tucked between your legs. Remember this, I am merciful in this only, consider yourself more lucky than Larys,” he backed up, dislodging the blade from the chair, lifting up Floris’ sobbing face by the chin with the point of it, “You will leave and speak nothing of this– if I ever even hear a whiff of her name coming from your mouth, I will kill you. I won’t grant you such a kindness of life again,” he nicked the soft skin of her chin, small drops of blood beading. He stowed his dagger and walked towards the door, “Consider this betrothal dissolved.”

–

The Keep was bustling with activity for the week after Floris’ sudden departure – rumors swirled of her getting cold feet, her integrity as an intact maiden coming into question, and that she was fraternizing with Larys Strong.

Larys, having caught wind of this, had some foresight that his nefarious doings had been uncovered. He returned to Harrenhal, effectively escaping Aemond’s retribution. Aemond was a bit agitated at the rat slipping through his fingers– but there was always time. Harrenhal was only a dragon’s ride away, he would get his soon enough.

It all felt like a blur to Aemond, the tumultuous months after Rosemary’s death. Rhaenyra’s arrival, the trial, the execution of Vaemond by Daemon, the dinner, the toast– his father’s death, his brother’s crowning. Helaena woke up screaming many nights, demanding that the tunnels be guarded more sufficiently and she didn’t go anywhere without an escort– it was obvious to Aemond that she’d seen something that frightened her deeply.

Aemond was to be an envoy for his brother’s cause– or moreso, his grandsire’s. Anyone with eyes could see that Aegon didn’t wish to be King, nor was fit for it. Flying to Storm’s End– he wished that his grandsire would’ve sent someone else instead. He had already disgraced himself to Borros Baratheon, and had no desire to see Floris again.

It was raining, as was typical of the Stormlands. Vhagar growled uneasily underneath Aemond. “Umbagon gīda, uēpa riña,” he murmured, reaching up to pat her scales. Keep calm, old girl. “Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon naejot sagon kesīr, tolī.” I don’t want to be here, either.

He landed outside of the ramparts, quickly seeing why Vhagar had been agitated. A small, adolescent dragon was fidgeting anxiously in the courtyard leading up to the castle. He didn’t recognize it, but guessed it was likely one of Rhaenyra’s brood.

Stepping into the building, he saw him. Little Lucerys Strong– or Velaryon, if he was to be proper.

“Prince Aemond,” Borros, the damnable oaf he was, shouted, “I assume you have come to ask for my banners for your brother, have you? Seems that Prince Lucerys has beat you to the punch, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, did he now?” Aemond hummed, his arms behind his back as he glared at Lucerys– who was no older than sixteen, “May I remind you that it ‘twas my brother, Aegon, who was crowned before the masses in the Dragonpit? My brother, the King Aegon, who wears the conqueror’s crown, bears his name and wields our ancestral blade Blackfyre?”

Borros grunted. “That is all well and fine– but what is House Baratheon to do with Valyrian names and titles and swords? I can’t very well pick my teeth with Blackfyre, now can I? What do you have to offer to me? I suggest you speak quickly, as you’ve already disgraced my house once by sullying my daughter’s reputation.”

Anger seethed within Aemond, his fist clenching and unclenching. “We have my brother, Daeron, to offer as an option for betrothal to one of your daughters.”

Lucerys shifted uneasily next to Borros, his hands fiddling with a piece of parchment.

“Lucerys has already offered himself and his brother, Jacaerys, to marry two of my daughters. Your brother, Daeron, is no older than fourteen. One of my daughters could marry Jacaerys within a fortnight– even if Daeron was older, how am I supposed to know that your side of the family won’t spurn us once again?”

Fucking hell.

He felt shamed by the boar Borros– all the while, Lucerys couldn’t help but to stifle a chuckle. Just as he did at that damnable dinner. He felt his blood boiling and he had to stifle the urge to mount Vhagar and burn this castle to the ground.

The next hour was a blur. He remembers mounting Vhagar after Lucerys mounted his little whelpling– he remembers… the storm, the droplets feeling like shards of ice against his skin. His heart was beating in his ears, his taunts in High Valyrian to the boy prince sounding like echoes from someone else’s mouth. He felt like a puppet to his own savagery, the entire chase pulling from something animalistic and cruel within him, like the song of a swinging blade.

It was a sickening sound, truly. The sound of Vhagar’s jaw snapping that poor hatchling to pieces, little Lord Strong scattered over the bay. It was a sound Aemond wouldn’t forget.

He had to imagine that Rosemary was ashamed of him, wherever she was in the afterlife, if there at all.

–

Aemond had become a shell of himself, two years of the war passing by like granules of sand filling an hourglass. The humanity of him recused back behind those walls once more, his body working through the autonomy of the primal fire that coursed through him.

He didn’t feel alive.

He wasn’t, really.

Quite a few assassination attempts on the Red Keep were thwarted from Helaena’s plea for increased security. Guilt swirled in Aemond’s gut– it was repercussion. Punishment for what he’d done, what Vhagar had done.

He went into a self-imposed exile to Harrenhal, citing it as a military strategy to hold the fortress– but in reality, he felt he was a dead man walking. He may as well add the ghosts and curses of the ancient stronghold to his list of crimes.

The only moment of clarity he’d had was when he executed Larys. Aemond dragged the crippled man from his hiding hole in Harrenhal, and let Vhagar’s flame bathe him. It wasn’t a sizable meal for Vhagar, but satisfying nonetheless, for a moment– before he felt nothing once more.

The witch– Alys. She flitted around Aemond, whispering in his ear like a buzzing fly. He did lay with her, but would never spend inside of her. It felt like he was just going through the motions, trying to stoke a fire within himself that was long snuffed out. She didn’t feel anything like Rosemary– she was bony in all of the places where his Rosemary had been soft. After they would couple, he would send her away before she even had a chance to wipe herself off.

At night, he dreamed of her. Rosemary. Her warm hands cupping his face, murmuring sweetness to him, like a siren’s song, like the call of the void.

Then Daemon came upon his ugly bloodwyrm.

A duel, then.

“We’ve both lived too long, uncle.” he shouted, mounting Vhagar.

“On that, we agree. You’ve lived too long since you killed Lucerys in cold blood.”

“Mayhaps I will arrange a meeting for you two, then, uncle?”

It was a battle of gnashing teeth and flames, the glint of Dark Sister seen–

His death, he was staring it in the face. His death had a face, too– Rosemary. She whispered in his ear every night that they would soon be together. This must’ve been it, her ghost telling him of their reunion soon to come.

He opened his arms, welcoming his uncle’s thrust of his blade–

Darkness.

It was cold, cold… waves washing over him like he was bobbing across the surface of the lake.

Rosemary– where was she? Was he dead? Please, let him be dead. Let the nightmare be over.

The washing of waves came over him more, the tide ebbing and flowing over his body, pushing him. His head throbbed and he couldn’t move his arm– his extremities were cold, but his head… felt lighter.

Opening his one eye, it was clouded in red. Red. Oh, good. He’s gone to the Hells.

“Ser?” a voice called, sounding so far away. “Oi, Mare, come help me. He’s bleedin’ out.”

“Gods, he ain’t look too good, Jon. Think he’s gonna kick the bucket before we even get ‘em off the stones.”

“Leave… me…” Aemond somehow croaked out, his voice sounding like he had gargled rocks. “I’m meant… to be… dead…”

“Seems fate got more in store for you, lad,” one of the men said, “I’d be damned by the Seven themself if I leave you here to die on the shore. I ain’t going to Hell without trying, eh?”

Aemond felt two pairs of arms lift him up, their murmurs coming in and out of focus.

“We’re gonna get ya to the town tailor, lad. Ain’t no maester from the citadel, but she can right a stitch better than any– and ya needin’ a stitch or two. Miss Marigold will fix you right up.” the other said, still not totally convinced.

The jingling of a bell was heard– all Aemond could see still was red. “Marigold! We’ve got a live one for you– he’s hurtin’ real bad.”

The scent of lavender wafted over him like a balm as the seamstress stood over him. She made a choked sound, a sob– and a finger wiped the blood from out of his eye. His vision came into focus and the ever familiar visage of his love– she was there. She was real. She was… alive? Alive.

“Rosemary?”

“Aemond?”

A small, quiet voice was heard. “Mama, who’s there?”

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