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cheriladycl01 · 4 days

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I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 4

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

Credit to misscalliopecruz for the GIF

You didn't realize just how easy it was for Sam and Colby to make calls to these haunted locations and be given permissions to film investigations.

You'd been set up for literally 3 days time which made you guys feel even more excited as it was such short notice. Colby and Sam spent the time charging all the equipment, booking hotels and doing all the admin stuff you'd offered to help them with but they'd refused saying you should try and get a few good nights of sleep while you could, so you stayed in your flat making sure you had a comfy enough outfit ready to go in.

Colby had practically begged you to wear their merch, so of course you took the hoodie he'd given to you. You'd planned to wear it with a pair of bootleg jeans as even though it was very clearly British Time you gathered in the middle of the night in an old creepy castle it would get cold. Which is why you were thankful for the hoodie rather than a top as the piece of merch Colby gifted you.

You kind of wanted to make Colby and Sam wear some of you Red Bull Merch but thought maybe that was going a bit too far so you left them packed away in the rucksack you were going to be taking with you.

You had a later night on the day before the investigation so you were able to stay up till around 4 or 5am, ending up waking up for around 11am. You did your morning workout before getting something to eat and had a slow evening before meeting up with the boys.

"Are you okay driving?" Colby asks as you all walk down to the car park of the hotel they were staying in.

"Any reason, or just because I'm the better driver?" you smirk, knowing full well you were the better driver.

"I just don't like driving in the UK, it's way more complicated than the US, those roundabouts... wild things!" he jokes, even though there was some truth to it.

"Yeah sure, I don't mind... but If I'm driving its my Spotify playlist on shuffle..." you reason and they both nod agreeing, not petty enough to start a disagreement over music, especially when you guys would probably have similar music tastes.

The drive to the castle was fun, you were all talking about the history you guys had researched and what was there.

When you pulled up, you got this zing of excitement down you spine.

"Guys, I'm really excited for this" you exclaim looking back at them getting all the stuff out the car while you were in awe of the building.

It was a huge location and you already knew that the boys would challenge you to go somewhere alone because of how big it was.

The boys got out their camera and you waited off to the side as they did their intro.

"What's up guys its Sam and Colby and today we are here a Dannamore Castle in the UK, one of the most haunted Castles in the world!" Colby says with that normal cryptic sort of look on his face.

"And as you guys probably expected from our recent trip to see out good friend, today we have Y/N Y/L/N here with us!" Sam introduces panning the camera round to you making you smile and bunch up closer to them.

"Hey!" you grin and the boys turn to you.

"Okay for those who don't know Y/N is a MotoGP rider to she basically rides motorbikes really quickly round race-tracks for a living and she's really good at it too. The reason she is here is because she said she wouldn't be scared to come onto one of our videos and we really want to put that to the test" Colby mentions and you blush at the praise, entirely used to but it still got you every time.

They cut the cameras after showing the outside of the area saying that they'd be filming a lot of the history out-takes in their studio at home and having watched their videos you knew what they meant.

Two men and a lady came out, one was the caretaker, another was a tour guide and the other a medium of sorts that worked with the place.

Sam and Colby started to talk to the caretaker that would help in showing you round later when you walked off.

You thought you saw something dash out the corner of your eye, Sam and Colby were too busy listening too all the ins and outs of the area, what rooms you didn't have access to which in this particular castle wasn't actually that many just the unsafe spaces where the wooden flooring had gotten too old and they hadn't rebuilt it yet.

"Where's your friend?" the caretaker asks seeing that the girl wasn't where she had been a minute ago.

The others look around trying to see if you were behind the car or near the entrance but you were nowhere in sight.

"Y/N?" Colby yelled out. Sam following with a shout of his own name.

"Yeah?" you ask walking from behind a stone wall that ran behind the castle into the gardens.

"Where did you run off to?" Sam asks and the caretakers also look intrigued.

"Something caught the corner of my eye and I wanted to see if anyone else was on the property" you shrug your shoulder making Sam look to the now turned on camera Colby had, as they had started to film the minute the group were aware that you were missing.

"You just left, because you saw something?" Colby asks and you nod, making Sam chuckle. They cut the cameras, giving you a small run down of the castle, which rooms you guys weren't allowed it and when you guys had to leave by.

They also further explained not having got there before that it would just be you guys in there tonight, the caretaker however stays in the barn that was technically 'on the property' but not inside the castle just for legal purposes.

"So this is the centre of the castle. Back in the day, all residents from the Dannamore family and their friends would have been around here as this was and still is a hub" the tour guide smiles as you all look around the expanse of the hall.

"Who was part of the Dannamore Family, I'm guessing we'll meet some of them tonight?" you smile asking intrigued.

"Well Drake Dannamore has always been the most present spirit we have here. He is the original resident of the castle" she starts and you all nod.

"Is he cool?" Colby asks making you turn to him in shock. How is he referring to a like 1000 year old spirit as cool.

"He's a kind spirit yes. Y/N you'll get most the activity from him, he's the protector of this house... practically the women" she smiles.

"Really? Why's that?" Sam asks.

"Well, Drake..." she starts and you guys hear a knock from the back of the room making you all look there and the guide and caretaker laugh a little.

"I think he's here with us!" she smiles looking around before continuing.

"He married Valisa Dupont a French Lady from a wealthy family. Their family gifted and built this castle as a sign of their gratitude for Drake protecting Valisa. However, Valisa did not love Drake and apparently she became very spiteful towards him. She would cheat on him with the bakers boy who worked and lived in the home. She neglected their children making Drake exhausted" she starts and you feel a sort of overwhelming sadness wash over you. Enough for you to reach up and hold you chest.

"Vasila attempted to kill Drake but ended up mistakenly poisoning his sister Darcey. He ended the relationship with her, and she was livid. He moved on and married Bianca, who mysteriously died one night after saying for years she felt like she was being watched. People working in the castle at the time reported that Vasila killed Bianca out of jealously. Drake was in anguish and after that refused to marry again. He tried to protect Bianca as much as possible thinking Vasila was terrorizing her. After that its said that Drake either pushed her or she threw herself from the east tower, falling to her death" she finishes and you all look in shock.

"So he protects females that come into the castle from Vasila, who i'm guessing remains here as a negative energy because he feels like he needs to do what he couldn't do for Bianca?" you ask and a creak or footsteps was heard from above making all your heads snap up.

"I'd take that as a yes!" Colby laughs making you laugh as well.

"So this is an active place for all the spirits?" Sam asks looking around.

"Not all, but most. Drake can be found here along with his children who are also protectors of the home. Bianca is also here who is a very friendly and kind spirit. But its not just people who have lived in the castle. There's portals here too" the caretaker answers showing the mirrors that were facing each other.

"Woah?" you say stepping closer to Colby where the mirrors are.

"So what do we need to be wary of?" Colby asks.

"Vasila, of course. She doesn't like any-one male or female. She's been known to touch and scratch and make lots of loud noises but she's only in certain areas of the house like the tower and the pantry room" she explains.

"Because of her relationship with the baker boy?" Sam asks and she nods.

"Y/N you'll need to be extra careful of the baker boy" she admits and you look off to the left.

"Why?"

"He doesn't like ... dominant women!" she exclaims looking down, making you frown with a small laugh.

"I'm a dominant woman?" you ask with a laugh.

"Just like your presence, the tattoos, biker personality and just your aura she means, your head strong which is something Madison didn't like" the medium says for the first time since being here.

"Madison?" Sam asks.

"The baker boy, that was his name Madison!" he answers.

This would make for an interesting night!

Taglist:

@richardsamboramylove55 @braveangel777 @rockwyu @jada-lockwood @itzdarling

#sam and colby x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam and colby imagine #sam golbach #colby brock imagine #colby brock #sam and colby #colby x reader #colby brock one shot #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfic

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indouloureux · 2 years

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how are u love? I dont know if you saw the pictures and videos of joseph and jamie in brazil (I just saw them and I'm SCREAMING) but could you write something based on that? like joseph x costar!reader?

ps: you're amazing and I LOVE that you write for Joseph sm and you do it SO WELL

HI IM GOOD YES i saw their pics from brazil and i went absolutely feral!!! tysm for reading my works ily !! 🫶 hope you enjoy this

side note: a couple of you guys sent in requests and im sorry if im unable to post it sooner. i promise i will get to them and i absolutely love your ideas!!! i also sincerely apologize if the fonts are small im writing the blurbs on my phone and ive yet to figure out how to put "read more".

brazil is really pretty, and so is the smile on his face.

his white dress shirt hangs perfectly around his frame, but his grey blazer is missing and is instead draped over your shoulders, an offer he'd done out of worry.

even so, joseph's got an arm around your waist, holding a drink in his hand that he so carelessly waves around as he talks to people though not spilling it on anyone else. his laugh is bright and a bit drunk, but it's still contagious nonetheless.

"hey," he murmurs in your ear. "i bet you twenty dollars i get at least more than fifteen questions about what my vecna song is, deal?"

you snort, gyrating your wrist to swirl your drink. "why? did the question reach brazil?"

"i can't tell you how many times i've said the words up and down by venga boys. it's a lot more than the amount of wrong theories i saw about volume two."

joseph beams at your smile, and as much as he wants to place a kiss on your temple, he's too shy to do so in a public place. "alright. and if it's not more than fifteen, i get the twenty dollars?"

"twenty dollars and a kiss," he offers. "only because i haven't kissed you since this morning and i've been taking it out on this glass."

"eugh," you turn away from him. "gross,"

"it's true," joseph removes his arm from around your waist, only to step in front of you so you'd look at him. "when you were at the toilet i've been mouthing my drink."

"jesus, joseph."

"and mary," he smiles at you, comes back to his original position where he slots himself at your side with a hand around your back in a kind possessive manner. "no one has actually asked you what your vecna song is, though,"

"i'd rather not answer than when yours sounds like a kids bop music at a child's birthday party," you playfully clink your glass with his. joseph wrinkles his nose and opens his mouth in a silent gasp, feigning offense at your joke.

"my, how rude! i've never judged you for listening to doja cat for a whole week when she tweeted about me," joseph squints his eyes at you.

"it's my way of coping. a hot girl flirts with my boyfriend and then what?" you shake your head at him. joseph smiles, and he's really fighting the urge not to kiss you. "plus her music's good. you should try listening to it instead of dancing to venga boys every morning."

"never disrespect up and down like that," he scoffs. his hand reaches out to play with the sleeves of the blazer around your shoulder, and you find yourself tracing the curve of his chain.

"yeah yeah, whatever."

"oh, here comes another one," finally, he steals a quick peck on your temple, hand sinking deeper into your waist. "prepare to lose twenty dollars, darling."

would very much appreciate feedback and reblogs!! <3

#joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn #requests #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction

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itsgrimeytime · 6 months

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Magnolia in May (Part Twenty) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: child abandonment, crying, parental death.

[[A/N: Happens just after the last one. Thanks for reading!!! ]]

Carol was the one who found you, the gray swirls of hair framing her face -she seemed quite busy, but she halted in her pace upon finding you. Blue eyes bright with a shine that you deemed to be concern, more than anything else.

"Ms. Greene? Are you alright?" she spoke, softly like she'd scare you if she spoke any louder. You weren't sure such an assumption was wrong.

"Yes," you sniffled, standing at the noise of someone else -wiping at your eyes, "-yes, I'm just fine. Just a... Just a troubling conversation, I believe."

"Troubling?" she echoed, grabbing your hand to guide you to stand, "-forgive my frankness, but it seems far more than troubling to cause such a reaction."

"It brought up a previous experience," you clarified, dabbing at your eyes with a handkerchief. It was a soft sort of blue, one of Mr. Grimes's -the smooth silk gave it away, "-something I hadn't thought of in quite some time."

"Do you need me to fetch Mr. Grimes?"

"No," you swatted your hand, and straightened out your dress, "-no. Please, he must be getting the children ready for dinner, I shouldn't cause such a scene."

"Are you certain?" She spoke, softly, "-I assure you Mr. Grimes will not be offended, he should be rather glad to offer you such comfort."

"I..."

She remarked slowly, trying to be quite convincing, "Dinner is not even done quite yet, so it wouldn't be a setback at all, madam."

You sighed, dabbing at your eyes once more, "If you insist."

"I do," Carol hummed, light and airy, "-and I assume he'd much rather be here than his cook."

"A fair point," you laughed.

She smiled a bubbly sort of one, "I shall fetch him, but please, take a seat on a chair. It's much more comfortable than the tile, ma'am."

"Thank you," you echoed, "-thank you."

The seat you chose was by the window, the beautiful outdoors calming you, despite the swirling sea storm in your head. It was a bit disturbing, something so turbulent inside you merely outright deturbed by the outdoors.

If you were focusing a mere inch more, you couldn't sworn the sweet melodic sound of a bird had been the only noise to come from outside. Meanwhile, you...

You sighed. A big, airy sort of sigh.

The sound of shoes on the tile brought you out of the trance, the tweeting of the birds so distantly played in your head. Part of you wished to go out into the courtyard, to trace the leaves underneath your fingertips then.

"Ms. Greene," his voice echoed down the hall, blue eyes flickering over your face, "-What did she say? Are you alright? I never should've-"

"Mr. Grimes," you sighed out, almost in relief, "-sit with me? I believe asking such presence will calm me."

"Of course," he whispered, softly, as if you could break, "-of course, anythin'."

"You don't know how much this means to me," you whispered, eyes downcast at your skirt, tracing along the stitching, "-I'm not sure I can speak such things, but I do hope you know."

"I don't need to," he turned to you, holding your hand gently with both of his own, "-I'm quite happy enough to do anythin' you ask."

"Mr. Grimes," you laughed, the sniffles a mere breath away from giggles, your head tilted back, "-I cannot ask you to be so attentive to me, that seems quite manipulative, does it not?"

"Not if you don't wish it," he hummed, bringing your hand to his lips for a quick press, "-you aren't manipulating me if you aren't approving of such attention."

"I suppose you have a point."

"I would do anythin' to keep you smilin'," he spoke, "-even at my own expense. Which is why I must ask-"

"You wish to know what she told me," you answered, slow and tentative, "-I believe you deserve to know, Mr. Grimes."

"Only if you wish to tell me," he responded.

"I do," you echoed, "-I do. I just wish... I believe I should speak to Carl first, pending your approval."

"Carl?" Mr. Grimes questioned, "Did she speak to you of Carl? Of the children?"

You sighed, fidgeting with your skirt fabric, "She urged me to take her place. With the... With the children. She wished me to mother them."

"I could never believe she'd instill such pressure upon you-"

"I wish to do it, I do-" you continued without thinking, "-I just know what it is to miss a mother, to lose one. I don't want to fail you or replace her... I just... I was struck by the loss of my mother-"

Mr. Grimes held your hand tighter, but he spoke nothing.

"And I just wished she could see what she was doing to the children-"

"Breathe, please," he remarked slowly, "-I find you are already caring for them much better than I ever dreamed, don't fret yourself."

"I haven't done anything," you conceded.

"You have, you are-" he hummed, roaming closer, "-You care for 'em, don't wish them to be hurt as you are. You wish they could be cared for, properly."

"Mr. Grimes-"

"I love you," he echoed out, "-you care for my children and I love you."

"I love you too..."

"I'll schedule you to meet with Carl after dinner," he responded, finally, "-if you wish to speak with him, I imagine you have a good purpose."

"Are you certain?"

"With you?" he hummed, certainty stirring in his eyes, "-Always."

#rick grimes #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #twd #twd rick #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #magnolia in may

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imgeekgirlfan · 13 days

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I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Pairings: Astarion x Original Female Character(Named Tav) [From Baldur's Gate 3]

Tag/Warnings : Canon Compliant, Post-Endgame, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tragedy, Mentions of past abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, References to Depression, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis : Astarion returned to the city of Baldur's Gate, following the final request of his beloved, who asked him to bury her next to his grave. As dawn approached, Astarion held the lifeless body of his love, reminiscing about the countless memories they shared together.

A/N : The story started when I came across this tweet: 'do you guys think your tavs/durges stayed with their love interest long term or not?'

I got the idea to tell the story of my Tav and her love interest, Astarion. What would happen to them after the end of Baldur's Gate 3? I've been thinking about it a lot and it's quite heartbreaking.

From these little headcanons, I developed this one-shot about them.

My Tav is a human bard with a noble background. So, I imagined her as the daughter of a noble Baldurian,which contrasts with Astarion's background. Their initial relationship was more of a adversaries before blossoming into love in the end.

Listening to the song "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie gave me a lot of inspiration for this couple. (At first, I wanted to use the song "Take Me To Church" as the title, but it's too popular. I thought a song that many might not have heard of would be fitting for this tale.)

Read in Ao3 : here

"Jones," Astarion whispered, calling his beloved, but she didn't respond.

Her eyes closed tightly, her body growing colder with each passing moment.

Astarion pulled her closer, hoping his slight warmth might warm her. He knew it wouldn't help, and she would never wake to look into his eyes again.

Human lives are fleeting, from young maiden to old crone, from crone to spirit.

Her entire life was a blink of an eye compared to his cursed immortality.

Once, Astarion had both disdain and curiosity about this human. A race so fragile and feeble, never wielding a sword to harm anyone, raised in a noble family, spending half a comfortable lifetime in a grand mansion in Baldur’s Gate, surrounded by obedient servants bowing to her every whim.

He couldn't make sense of her. For a vampire like him who had struggled to survive amidst enemies and a cruel world for centuries. He was nothing but a bloodthirsty creature, a servant under a master's foot who got treated worse than a common slave, struggling to sustain his life with the taste of filthy rat blood that almost made him vomit.

Astarion envies her for an ideal life in the gilded cage he could only dream of. envied the short-lived human existence. While he had no right to die willingly if his evil master didn't want him to die,

And he wondered why she had fled her high-life in the capital city of Baldur’s Gate to suffer with them. why someone so inept at fighting would risk her life battling monsters, from goblins and evil undead to even gods, to aid them and help everyone unrelated to her.

He thought Jones was foolish, and he didn't like fools.

Ironically, eighty years later, he found himself shedding tears at her death.

"I wish to be buried beside your grave, Star." That was one of her last wishes before she breathed her last in his embrace. This led Astarion to make the singular decision to step out of the Underdark and return to Baldur’s Gate, the city where he once hated heavily, to fulfill the last wish of his beloved.

The black sky began to turn deep blue. Astarion knew he should hurry to bury Jones properly before the sunrise. As he contemplated, his eyes caught withered flowers left on the ground near his own grave marker. For a brief moment, Astarion reminisced about the memories he shared with her. He had once brought Jones to his own grave, recounting his life before turning into a vampire. and then visualizing a future where he wished to live with her,as his past had died over two centuries ago and she was the only future he desired.

Astarion remembered his overwhelming fear that Jones might refuse him. She was the highborn daughter of Baldur’s Gate's noble families. Why would she choose to endure the hardships of life with an elf vampire like him?

Yet his fear vanished instantly when he saw the soft smile on her smooth face. She placed flowers on his grave and embraced him, accepting his love wholeheartedly.

That night was the night he died and was reborn in her embrace. Not as the enslaved Astarion, not as the villainous Astarion, but as Astarion the redeemed, never to be alone again because he would have her by his side forever.

But the words 'forever' don't really exist, especially for humans and vampires.

Still, Astarion couldn't help but secretly hope.

Sometimes, darker thoughts overshadow his mind, eclipsing all the goodness he has left. Astarion often secretly pondered that if he chose the path of power, performed an ancient ritual to sacrifice seven thousand souls to a devil, and transformed himself into a vampire ascendant, he would have enough strength to walk in the sunlight with her and enough power to turn her into a vampire like him. Then they could live together forever without the fear of death taking her away.

But it was Jones who restrained him then. She persuaded Astarion to see that these powers offered him nothing but the dark legacy of the Vampire Master, an inheritance of wickedness that would never end. She told him he could be better than Cazador, his former master, and he didn't have to continue killing others to sustain his existence anymore.

Astarion trusted her, though he couldn't deny feeling deeply regretful. And Jones sensed his feelings. She gently grasped his cold hands and earnestly vowed, "Star, I will find a way to cure you of vampirism, so you can walk under the sunlight with me again."

And she kept her promise. After successfully helping Baldur’s Gate city fend off the threats of the Mind Flayers and Nether Brain, she and him began a new adventure together. They journeyed across the entire continent of Faerûn, from Waterdeep to Athkatla, Neverwinter, Luskan, and even the mysterious realm of Feywild, all in pursuit of finding a cure for him.

Those times were special, building strong bonds and beautiful memories between them. They laughed together, danced together, fought together, and held each other close under vast skies and twinkling stars as witnesses.

Until Jones began to age and couldn’t continue the journey. That was when they both realized how little time they had left. And no matter how much time and effort they put in, there was no way to find a cure for him anymore.

Facing the harsh reality was incredibly difficult. Astarion had to hide his deep sorrow while he tried to persuade her to stop the adventure and live out her remaining days in the Underdark, the dark and sunless realm, the only place where he could be with her.

He knew what the near future held. Nothing would hurt as much as watching his beloved age continuously, waiting for her time to pass while he remained unchanged.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you as I promised. Please forgive me," she said during their time in Underdark. Her bright blue eyes, the very eyes he fell in love with, overflowed with guilt.

Astarion wanted her to know that he could never be angry or hate her.

The shovel still lay untouched on the ground, with no sign of being used anytime soon. While the vampire elf sat silently in front of his own grave marker, letting old memories flow through his mind once more,. Both his arms cradled her lifeless body as if she were still alive.

"My beloved Star, please continue to live on for me. I wish to see you happy for a long time," another of her last requests echoed in his mind. The gentle touch of her frail hand on his cheek still lingers in his heart to this day.

"Jones." Astarion whispers her name again. Tears, which he had not shed for a long time, now streamed down his pale face. "I can't do it," he murmured to her lifeless body. "How can I find happiness without you?"

A golden beam slowly crept in, chasing away the darkness from the vast sky. Yet Astarion's body remained unmoving, just like the eyes of the vampire, which refused to leave the withered face of his beloved for a second. He memorized every detail of her, keeping it in his memory as best as he could. She still looked as beautiful as ever in his eyes—always and forever.

"I wish the next life was real. I hope we'll meet again, live together, and build a family," Astarion whispered softly, planting a tender kiss on the edge of her lips. "Wait for me, darling. I'll follow you soon, no matter where you choose to go."

Finally, he tore his gaze away from her, looking up at the sky once more. For the first time in centuries, he had the chance to gaze at the nearing dawn with full eyes. As the sun peeked over the horizon, followed by the warm rays starting to seep through his skin, cracks began to form, turning his skin into tiny specks of dust.

Before his final consciousness faded, Astarion's thoughts remained vivid.

This was the most beautiful dawn he had ever witnessed.

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separatist-apologist · 9 months

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We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

“This whole week has been a bachelorette party, Nes,” Emerie complained from Nesta’s couch. One slim arm was thrown over her eyes, dark hair a tangled mass against the pillows. Gwyn nodded, slumped on the hard floor while her feet rubbed against the soft, black and white shag carpet sitting just beneath a coffee table. Gwyn didn’t bother mentioning that Cassian’s ass cheeks were imprinted on the glass, though her eyes kept drifting toward it.

How had they not broken it?

That didn’t matter? Not when Nests flung open the curtains in her suite living room, earning groans of protest from the very hungover Gwyn and Emerie. “Turn it off, Nesta.”

“I can’t turn off the sun, Em,” Nesta replied. “And it’s almost noon. Don’t make me spend the day with my sisters.”

“Why not?” Gwyn asked, turning to bury her face in the squishy, leather couch. “They went to bed earlier than we did.”

“Come on. Lets do the work out class in the pool and have a few drinks—”

Both Emerie and Gwyn groaned again at the mention of alcohol. The Archeron sisters could drink like fish, and wake up just as pretty as they’d started. Not Gwyn, though. After their hike, Nesta and Cassian had wanted to go to another club, where drinks were half off if you were a lady. Had Gwyn taken advantage, flirting with men at the bar only to pass drinks along to Azriel—and Cassian, if he was nearby? Yes.

And what had it gotten her? Passed out on the floor of Nesta’s suite while Azriel was god knows where, all while her friend was hoping for a repeat.

“I can’t, Nesta. My mouth is dry.”

“Drink some water,” Nesta said casually before vanishing behind a doorway. She returned moments later with two of her own swimsuits. Neither Gwyn nor Emerie made any attempt at catching them, leaving the red fabric hanging in her hair. No matter what they said, Gwyn knew she and Emerie would put them on and be in the pool within an hour.

“Will you braid my hair?” she asked of Emerie instead, ignoring the soft sound of triumph that left Nesta’s throat. Emerie peeked open a pretty brown eye, glazed from the bad sleep they’d gotten, and mumbled that sounded mostly like agreement. Maybe a little swearing, too, which Nesta promptly ignored.

“Cassian bought a bunch of frozen breakfast burritos. Want me to microwave—”

“Yes.” They said it in unison, the most certain either Gwyn or Emerie had been all day. While Nesta powered up the microwave and moved through the kitchen with the same efficiency she employed in the courtroom, Gwyn tried not to complain too much when Emerie began dragging a brush through her hair before snapping little plastic ponytails against Gwyn’s scalp to create two thick, cute bubble braids.

The smell of cheese and peppers filled the air, turning Gwyn’s stomach hollow with hunger. She scarfed one down while Nesta watched, triumphant. “It’s fixing you, isn’t it?”

“No,” she lied. “Make me another.”

Nesta only laughed, pretty as ever in another black bikini that somehow made her seem impossibly tan. Gwyn retreated to the bathroom, throwing on the red suit that Cassian probably loved on Nesta given the scraps of fabric held together by flimsy string. She tried not to think too much about what Azriel might think.

But she wondered, all the same, if he’d have any reaction at all. She traded places with Emerie, scarfing down another piping hot burrito and chugging a cold glass of orange juice before she said a word.

“You know, I have an actual bachelorette plan for this weekend,” Gwyn began, drumming her fingers against the laminate countertop. “I’ve been putting it together since we got here.” “Cassian told me,” Nesta admitted, eliciting a choked sound of outrage from Gwyn.

“How—Azriel.”

Nesta grimaced. “They don’t keep secrets. Cassian especially. It sounds really fun, Gwyn,” Nesta added, though Gwyn could see she didn’t really mean it.

A little offended, Gwyn asked, “What’s wrong with the night I have planned?”

“No Cassian.”

Gwyn spluttered. “That—that’s the whole point! You have your whole life to see Cassian!”

Nesta nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. “What if we combined them—”

“Then it’s just a regular night! A stripper was coming, Nes,” she added, snapping her fingers in front of Nesta’s face. “And not just any stripper, but an Italian stripper, which I was assured is better than a regular one.”

“Cassian would probably think that’s very funny—”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Gwyn grumbled. “Why would you wait until now to tell me?”

“I thought maybe Azriel would convince you—”

“Why would you think that?” Gwyn demanded, suddenly defensive. Nesta’s cheeks seemed to darken even as those silvery blue eyes flashed a warning. Gwyn was going to lose this fight. Nesta shook her head, brushing strands of her that had escaped her own braided hair from her face.

“I—”

“He’s obviously into you,” Emerie interrupted, strolling into the room in a vibrant purple two piece. She’d braided her hair, too, which warmed Gwyn. They’d been wearing the same hairstyle for years, and not even marriage was going to stop that. No matter how chaotic their lives got, they were still friends first. “We all saw that picture he put up, too. That man doesn’t have one woman on his grid but now he’s got you.”

Nesta was fiddling with the ties at the front of her swimsuit. Quietly—so quietly Gwyn barely heard her, she murmured, “I put you two in the same room.”

“You what?!”

Nesta sighed. “When you ended things, he called me. Wanted to know why, and how to get you back blah blah blah. I didn’t help him, but…you had that crush on Azriel in high school—”

“Oh my God,” Gwyn mumbled, putting her head in her hands. “And this whole time…I thought…”

“Did it work, at least?” Emerie asked curiously, picking up one of the microwave burritos from a paper plate. “Have you…you know?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“That’s a yes,” Nesta said, slapping a high five out with Emerie. “Do you like him?”

“I’m not answering that, either. I’m feeling a little betrayed right now. ”

Nesta sighed. “Well, don’t. It was done out of love for you both—Azriel is stupid when it comes to women and you…God, Gwyn, do you have any idea how much it has sucked watching you lose yourself to Jonathon?”

Gwyn looked between her friends, heart pounding. Emerie grimaced.

“He made you so small,” she murmured, squeezing Gwyn’s hand.

“All he did was complain,” Nesta added darkly. “The amount of times I had to remind Cassian he couldn’t hit him…” Nesta shook her head.

“It doesn’t have to be Azriel,” Emerie amended hastily. “It just seemed like maybe you two…”

“So you both knew?” Gwyn asked flatly, unsure how she felt about the whole thing. Though a new, more terrible thought was settling in her chest. “Did Az—”

“No!” Nesta said quickly. “God, no. Not even Cassian knew.”

“Because he—”

“Can’t keep a secret, yeah,” Nesta agreed. Gwyn exhaled a breath. If Azriel had known, Gwyn thought she would have had to pack up her things and fly home, change her name, and start over in an entirely new city. “He doesn’t know. And it seems like he likes you. Rhys told Cassian Azriel said something that made him think so. He didn’t say what, though.”

Gwyn could have admitted she and Azriel slept together. Could have put Nesta and Emerie out of their misery and told the truth. Instead, she clarified, “So, this whole time, you’ve been playing matchmaker during your wedding?”

Nesta nodded without an ounce of shame. “I’m more committed to your romance than my own marriage, Gwyn. Don’t be mad,” she added, the closest Gwyn would get to an apology. “You’re so stubborn…if I’d told you what I was thinking, you would have avoided him on principle.”

“Yeah, and I probably wouldn’t have slept with him in the airplane bathroom,” she grumbled.

Emerie burst out laughing. “I didn’t believe Mor when she told me she saw you two go in there. She’s going to die—”

“Do not tell her!” Gwyn shrieked. “Tell no one.”

Emerie and Nesta, eyes bright with delight that their scheming had worked immediately, nodded their heads in agreement. God, how had they even gotten here? Looking up at the popcorn ceiling overhead, Gwyn forced herself to say, “It’s not like that between me and Azriel. It’s…this is just a vacation thing. Proximity—”

“Oh, bullshit!” Nesta exploded while Emerie swallowed the laughter causing her shoulders to shake. “Azriel isn’t capable of casual anything.”

Gwyn wanted to believe that. He’d said a lot of things, always with his cock in her body. Never…never without. And Gwyn was cautious to trust anything a man said in the middle of sex given he was likely to say anything he thought she wanted to hear if it meant he got to finish.

“I don’t know how we got here,” Gwyn grumbled, rubbing her eyes with the tips of her fingers. “Do not meddle, okay? If you want to change the bachelorette party tonight, that's on you.”

“Finally,” Nesta breathed, her delight evident.

“Control freak,” Emerie teased.

And somehow, everything was fine. All Gwyn’s resentment melted away as they devolved into silly teasing, finishing their food and drinks before heading out into the hot Italian air. The sun bounced off the flagstones, blinding the three of them until they clutched at each other, giggling and lamenting that they’d forgotten to put on sunscreen. Gwyn’s hat and sunglasses were in the room she shared with Azriel, and today she didn’t dare run down to get them. She’d hoped to avoid Azriel until she knew how to tell him they’d been set up.

It didn’t matter, at any rate. He was already laid out in a pool chair, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes, arms folded behind his head while one muscular leg was bent at the knee, causing the muscles in his abdomen to flex obscenely.

It was absurd, how handsome he was. More absurd when he lowered his glasses to look at her walk past him—as if both Nesta and Emerie didn’t immediately notice. He wasn’t beating the not interested charges, which both annoyed and thrilled her. Azriel didn’t seem to notice the group of beautiful blondes in the pool all laughing loudly, hoping for his attention. Nor did he pay them any mind as they continued to get out of the pool, dripping wet as they slicked their hair back right in front of him.

Even after he’d put his mirrored shades back on, Gwyn could feel his gaze burning against her skin.

Azriel isn’t capable of anything causal.

To find out the truth, she was going to have to just ask him flat out what he wanted. And if he wanted to keep this going when they got home—for real, and not when he was erect or drunk or lost to romantic moonlight. Gwyn swallowed.

It was better to know.

Right?

AZRIEL:

“What was the point of asking me to throw you a bachelor party if we were going to end up with the girls?” Azriel grumbled, thinking of all the wasted money Cassian was flushing down the toilet. It didn’t matter if Rhysand and Nesta had venmoed him more than he’d spent—it was the principle of the thing. He’d paid for a stripper. And not just any stripper, but an Italian stripper, which was, apparently, better than American ones.

“Nes wants to be together tonight,” Cassian said, flashing Azriel a grin. So much for a nice night out—Azriel was wearing a pair of salmon colored shorts and a white and blue Hawaiian shirt wholly unbuttoned and a lei around his neck. Cassian’s choice, of course, tied together with flip flops that made him feel like a middle aged dad on a Florida beach.

“You’ll be with her your whole life,” Azriel reminded him, for all the good it did. They were still at the resort for a themed beach night at the adults-only club, and judging from the others he’d seen, their clothes weren’t creative.

The girls were worse—or better, depending on your point of view. Better, because they were in bikini tops and tied sarongs, and worse because every fucking man with eyes was hovering, hoping to drag one of them home. Rhys immediately pushed onto the pulsating dance floor, mere shadow in the black lit dark. Feyre didn’t seem to mind the attention, or was merely trying to get a rise out of Azriel’s brother.

And Rhysand was so, so stupid he fell for it every single time. Azriel wondered if they’d be married next.

At the bar, Elain Archeron was carefully arranging glasses filled with pale, pink liquid on a circular tray. That seemed safe enough—he was terrified to look for Gwyn and see her with another man. A distraction was exactly what he needed.

And a drink.

Or maybe six.

“Want help?” he asked Elain. She looked up, relieved to find him and not one of the crawling creeps. Glancing just behind her, Azriel found Lucien Vanserra having a loud conversation with his brothers wife, oblivious to his own being hit on simply for breathing. How could Nesta and Cassian find this preferable to a quiet evening with food and strippers?

“Yes,” she nodded, shouting over the thudding music. Azriel took the tray and brought it to her husband while Elain began doling them out with a pleased smile.

“Can we try not to get so wrecked tonight?” Emeries voice pulled Azriel from his eyes off Elain and found Gwyn standing close enough to touch. Back in that red top that had been haunting him since he’d seen it at the pool. Did she even know the effect she was having? He wished she’d kept the braids in her hair, though her thick, cinnamon colored hair fell in thick waves down her back which was erotic in its own kind of way.

He wanted to wrap it around his wrist until her back was arched in the air. She hadn’t come home the night before, likely tucked in with Nesta but Azriel’s imagination had run wild. He imagined her all night with another man, writhing with pleasure and screaming his name.

Cassian had told him when he woke up he’d found Gwyn asleep in the bathroom, one arm flung over the closed lid of the toilet, and Emerie on the couch wrapped up in one of his shirts. Azriel hadn’t dared to ask why Cassian was telling him that, though the knot of anxiety that had formed in chest eased significantly when he learned she was safe—and still his.

Gwyn offered him a tentative smile before throwing back her shot. So much skin was on display—so much he could touch without anyone thinking twice. In fact, Azriel could see her breasts peeking from the bottom of the swim top, taunting him when Gwyn stepped back, shaking her head with a grimace.

Cheeks flushed, she said, “That was awful.”

“It’s a barbie shot!” Elain told her cheerfully, pushing one toward Azriel. Gwyn’s eyes found him again, smiling sweetly before she took Emerie’s hand and led her back out onto the dance floor.

Fuck. Holding his glass, Azriel couldn’t drag his eyes off the sway of her hips or the way her hair swished back and forth.

A heavy hand clapped on Azriel’s shoulder, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. Cassian, just behind, grinned. “Want to dance?”

Azriel leveled a flat stare. He’d never danced a day in his life—he wasn’t about to start now. He was content to watch. Cassian, too, given he beckoned for Azriel to follow him up a set of grimy stairs where beautiful women came down, eyeing him up and down and running their hands down his chest while pretending there was so little space they had to touch him.

Normally that kind of would amuse him, but today it irritated him.

“I paid for a private room,” Cassian told him, the music quieter as he pushed into a door with his tattooed shoulder. It was nice, with a long, semi-circular table with booth and chair seating and a glass window overlooking the dance floor beneath. The stripper pole in the middle of the room made Azriel wish he hadn’t canceled the one he’d paid for Cassian’s bachelor party.

“Should have kept the stripper,” Rhys said, reading Azriel’s thoughts.

“Maybe we can get Nesta—”

“No!” Rhys and Azriel said at once, falling into their seats with wide eyes.

“Don’t make this weird, man,” Azriel added as Cassian chuckled. “Save that for tonight.”

“Is this what you wanted?” Rhys asked Cassian, who pulled up a chair across from them.

“It will be when the pizzas get up here. I know…look, I know you two really tried, but I don’t need one last night of freedom. I don’t want to pretend to be single.”

Azriel and Rhys sighed, though neither could pretend to be surprised. All Cassian had ever wanted was Nesta. It made sense, he supposed, that Cassian would want to spend this night with her, too. He knew, from the look on Rhys’s face, that the same soft jealousy he felt was echoed in his brother.

They wanted what Cassian had.

“We can do strippers when Feyre decides to marry Rhys,” Cassian added with a laugh.

“Yeah fucking right,” Rhys grumbled, cheeks flushed. “Not if I want to keep my balls.”

“Az, then.”

“Don’t look at me,” he replied, heart thumping loudly. “I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

He wondered what Cassian knew when he replied rather smugly, “We’ll see.”

Had Gwyn told Nesta? Or had Rhys told Cassian? That seemed the most likely given Rhys was suddenly studiously examining his fingernails. He was spared a confrontation by Elain Archeron, repaying the distraction favor, albeit unwittingly, to bring up more shots, along with the Vanserra brothers.

“Nice,” Lucien said, setting a round of beers in front of them. “Bottle service?”

“Do I look cheap, Vanserra?” Cassian replied with a grin.

“Yes,” Eris responded, earning a warning smack in the chest from Elain. More people filed in, along with a very beautiful waitress and the bottle service Cassian had paid for. He barked at everyone to drink, and drink heavily, given it hadn’t come cheap. For the crowd they had, it seemed more than reasonable and no one paid him any mind when he ordered a glass of water and kept quietly to himself. He was waiting for an opening—one he found when Gwyn stumbled down the steps for the bathroom.

Azriel made his way after her, content in the knowledge that all their friends were too drunk to notice if they left together or not. And maybe this loud club wasn’t the place for a conversation, but when Gwyn pushed into the bathroom, Azriel followed right behind her.

“Is this a new kink I should be worried about?” she asked, though she still undid her bottoms to pee in front of him. Azriel turned, only a little embarrassed.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all day.”

“Oh? Why is that, I wonder?” she asked, her voice just a little louder than usual. Okay, so maybe she was a little more drunk than he thought. Azriel hesitated.

“Because I like you.”

“Me? Or me naked?”

Oof. “Both,” he murmured, swallowing hard. “I ah…I wanted to talk about going home.”

Her laugh bounced off the tile walls. “Are we breaking up?”

A flush, and then Gwyn, flip flops slapping against the floor while she went to wash her hands.

“No. I want to see you when this is all over. Just you,” he added.

As my girlfriend, though Azriel didn’t know if he dared to add that. Not when she was looking at him with…was that amusement? Was he about to have his heart broken?

“Just me?” Gwyn asked, shaking her wet hands between them. “This is starting to sound like a confession.”

“I just told you I liked you,” he reminded her. Gwyn’s smile widened.

“So you want..what, exactly?”

“You,” he replied, daring to come closer. Close enough to touch her arms, to smell the scent of her shampoo and the salt on her skin from dancing. “With me and no one else.”

“So…your girlfriend.”

The urge to play it cool, to tell her no and hedge his bets rose through his throat and nearly spilled out of his mouth. Did she want to be casual still? To keep her options open? Azriel didn’t, and the thought of agreeing to that made him want to vomit on the floor.

“Yes.”

Gwyn’s brows shot skyward. He’d caught her by surprise, then. “Just you and me,” he added, so it was perfectly clear to her. “No one else.”

“Starting…when?”

“Starting now,” he replied, pulling her closer still. “Right now.”

“You should know something,” Gwyn said, before rushing to tell him the whole, sordid saga of Nesta’s manipulation. With flushed cheeks and averted eyes, Gwyn told him how they’d been paired together—and that Nesta had known she’d been single the entire time. Azriel waited patiently, unsure why it was so critical he know this. Did Gwyn think he was going to change his mind, or that proximity was the only thing drawing him to her?

He wanted her in the airport, well before they ever got seated together, and told her as much. It was hardly romantic, telling your would-be girlfriend that you fucked her in an airplane bathroom because your attraction was driving you insane, but Gwyn obviously needed to hear it.

But even if that hadn’t been true—he’d still want her. And would have thanked Nesta for hitting him over the face with it.

“So…so it doesn’t matter?” she asked, twining her arms around his neck.

“Never did,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her mouth. Azriel might have taken her right then and there, but a pounding against the door reminded him that they were not anywhere private—and there were limited bathrooms.

“I can’t leave,” Gwyn lamented, reading his mind.

“Don’t drink too much,” he said instead, selfishly wanting her more than he wanted to carry her back to their shared room, black out drunk until she threw up in his lap. “Cassian has pizza upstairs. You should eat some.”

“Insatiable,” Gwyn teased, unlocking the door and dragging him out with her. Everything was perfect. Better than perfect because for the first time, Azriel genuinely believed he could have what Cassian and Nesta did. That this might actually be it for him, and all he had to do was hold tight and try not to fuck it up too badly.

He never considered outside forces were conspiring against him. And he never thought, when they were back just outside the dance floor and he’d pulled her flush against his body for a languid, long-coming kiss, that anyone would even care.

“Gwyn!”

Gwyn froze, turning her head in slow motion. Azriel, too, turned to look at the masculine voice calling over the music. His stomach dropped to the floor. There, in an ugly green and blue striped tie and a long sleeved, white button down made of stifling polyester, stood Jonathon.

“Fuck,” Gwyn whispered.

Fuck, indeed.

#gwynriel #dont look at me like that #i finish everything eventually

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foxes-that-run · 21 days

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Do you think Conplicated Freak is Haylor

Hi, thanks for this ask, it has been ages since I wrote one of these as I've been busy and I enjoyed it.

I think so because of Little Freak and the themes and because the muse is with someone else. Kendall was around that time, but I don't think she fits as well. I really like it too.

Complicated Freak

When was it written, what was going on

It was written between 19 February and 7 May 2016:

Harry said Sweet Creature was the first song he wrote "for the album" and it was a few weeks after his birthday, he was pictured in the studio 19 February.

It is one of the songs listed on the white board behind Harry when his hair was still long. He posted to Instagram that he cut it 7 May 2016.

This post about April 29 and the 2016 timeline which fits this song.

When it leaked

It was in the large leak with Trouble, Already Home, Anna and Medicine during Coachella 20 April 2022.... We all agree Harry should be paid for his music and I would love an album of his unreleased music. This large leak had interesting timing. Taylor had written YLM in December, in 17 April Harry played Boyfriends "To BFs everywhere F U", 19 April (2 years before TTPD) Drake randomly tweeted support to Taylor and then several Harry-Haylor songs leaked on 20 April.

Lyrics

[Verse 1] She got wrapped up in somebody else I'm wrapped up, stuck in love with myself I never saw this coming around But I miss her skin on me now

This verse reminds me of these photos. The first photo of the left was taken and extremely widely publicised 16 March 2016. He left LA and looked miserable in London that week, he got a parking ticket too. I would guess the song is written after he and Taylor both returned to LA 25 March, he was near the studio on 20 April, (after Coachella) and in a mood.

Harry had been tweeting, writing Sweet Creature and sounding very interested in Taylor x, x, x and x. (The second photo is 4 July 2015)

[Verse 2] Tip of my tongue she's pulling my hair I do what she wants anywhere Back seat of the car and up in the air But I miss how she kissed everywhere

This verse Harry is thinking back to when he was with the muse. The references to (hella good) hair, cars and planes are Haylor themes.

There was something in these early HS1 songs I tell you. Without You, is an earlier song, possibly from 2015, but has a really similar reference "Now you’re with him i must admit I’m missing / The part of your skin / You always liked me kissing"

[Chorus] I can't get you off my mi-i-ind I can't get you off my mi-nd I still crave it, complicated freak I still crave it, complicated freak I still crave it, complicated freak

Can't get you off my mind:

Harry has this exact line in Late Night Talking "Now you're in my life / I can't get you off my mind"

Adore you "Lately you've been on my mind"

Where do Broken Hearts Go "Mind is running in circles of you and me"

More on minds

Crave it - Harry and Taylor have linked their relationship to a drug, or addiction as a theme.

Also the title is like Little Freak and Pop Tarts "You're a dirty little monster"

[Verse 3] Turned up too late one too many times Bad choice of words in my alibi I guess I love crazy, out of your mind You lost your head, so I'll give you mine

I love the playful end to this verse. It's a nice furthering of the story from Pop Tarts "Walked you home but you said "Bonne nuit" / Should have known you don't give head out for free"

Crazy is a Haylor theme

#Haylor #Harry Styles #Unrelased #Complicated freak

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daisiesonafield-blog · 1 year

Text

Storytime of a 'fan' partying with Louis and Oli in Los Cabos, Mexico on the night of Jan 18-19 2023

[I copied the google translation of his tweets bc the story is too long for screenshots. For the original in Spanish check his thread here.]

I was born here in Cabo, so I know very well, my friends are not from here, but a friend had told me that she had never been to a bar called "The Jungle" and I took her to meet her and say hello. to some friends who work there that I love them (René and Yen)

We got to jungle and everything was shido, there was a live band and as always very full and we had to be outside, for this we realized that Louis was there, total, I was with my friends having fun, dancing, singing and so on

Anyway, they were already closing and Louis and Oliver left, we stayed until jungle closed and we went to other bars that we like, especially one called "Dice" but it was very empty and only I went to the bathroom and we turned back, when we saw him again

My friend came to talk to Louis (it should be noted that we are not fans) and while we were entertaining the night I bought some beers to which I gave Oliver one, we were talking for about 10-15 minutes and obviously people asked him Photos

My friends talked with Louis and I with Oliver or we made jokes about how it is difficult for them to pronounce the "R" in Spanish and I explained to both of them that they should use the language more, that they needed more practice and they laughed, they understood the double meaning hahahaha

I didn't have much battery on my phone, I think 6% and since I'm not a fan of Louis, I was talking with a person that I "met in the peda" (met while drunk) something typical here in Los Cabos or nightlife in general (many will understand )

A boy came up to talk to Oliver while we were still joking with Lou, and he looked angry and I heard Oliver say "I don't want problems" so I approached with Lou and put myself in the middle of the boy and Oli in case he wanted to do something or something

(I forgot to mention, when we were joking he asked me something about my phone and I said "do you have WhatsApp?" To which he said yes, I take my phone, he added himself and told me to send him a message and I sent him a sticker, typical of meeting someone in the peda [while drunk])

Anyway, they told us to go to another place, I suppose they liked us, and we went to a bar that was nearby, that to enter there was a bouncer and my friends are friends of the bouncer and we went by, we sat at a table and because people realized

We asked for a bottle, they brought it to us at the table and I told Louis not to drink too much, also trying to make them full (not too drunk), we were singing, dancing and well, many came up to say hello, he would greet anyone who came near without problems, photos It's not understood)

Oliver took a lot of photos, with all of us, the truth was that we were having a great time, until someone asked for a one direction song and he asked Oliver please to tell the dj to change it, I saw Louis's face and he smiled, someone must have recorded that I guess

I told them I was going to the bathroom, I went, I came back and I had about 2% battery, it was already like 3 in the morning I think, I sat next to Louis and that's when I took my phone to take some selfies, I helped him turn on the flash and the photos came out I don't know how they got them

For this, Oliver saw when Louis took the photos with my phone and applied the law of ice to me, how do I explain that Louis asked me? 🤣🤣

My friends went out to smoke together with the two of them and I waited for them at the table, I don't smoke and I'll tell you, I was at my party and I'm not a fan, when they returned Louis saw a shirt that a very special person gave me and he liked hahahaha

We ran out of juice, we stayed a while longer dancing and it was time to leave, I paid for everything we had consumed and we went downstairs

This is when we stayed for about 5 minutes, since we were saying goodbye and that's when my taxi driver friend came up to me to tell me if it was Louis and I said yes, he asked if he could take a picture with him and I asked him I said ask Louis, for me ahead

Here we were saying goodbye (it should be noted that I have many friends and I received more photos of why or what he was doing with Louis hahahaha) and well I promised him that once we left with Louis I would post something, which I would rather than anyone else I knew for that night

It should be noted that I'm not a fan, I'm not telling them to offend by any means, I enjoyed my night with my friends and with them and that's not going to change the fact that I continue what I do, I think we spent 3 hours with them, such again if you count the time since we were in jungle

Lastly, I want to say that he is a super warm, fun, energetic person, he likes the riot as much as I do, if you are a fan of Louis I want to tell you that I enjoyed a great night for you and seriously if you approached me to tell me that You wanted a photo and I told you no, 1/2

It wasn't because I didn't want everyone to have his photo, but he just wanted to enjoy the night like anyone else, like you or I enjoyed it, I'm really sorry! It was a bit of luck that my friends and I had 🤘

And now yes, how do I explain that I ended up really drunk with Louis? I hope they enjoyed it as much as we 🤞🤞🤞

And that's all, I was looking at my messages and I'm not telling you so you can believe me or not, just my experience with them, the whatsapp is Oliver's, but my friends have Lou's, do you think if I send a message to Oli to pass me the photos, he'll tell me no?

Annexed when he called with my phone and I sent him a message, I still wonder if he would get mad if I ask for the photos 🤣🤣🤣

Good night babe! It was a pleasure to share my anecdote with you, please, don't hate me, I told you with all my heart 🙋‍♂️ have a nice night anyway!

#louis in mexico #fan experiences #oli wright #jealousy is a disease #and i have it #louis january 2023 #jan 18 2023 #jan 19 2023 #jan 2023 #drunk louis #louis receipts #louis receipts 2023 #the real louis tomlinson #that time louis partied with fans in mexico for 2 weeks #long post

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2ndprinceofdarkness · 25 days

Text

"It was a nice day..."

(New Header art for Genesis!! Click for quality--plz I swear)

(Psst--If you haven't heard, I've finished the main plot for Light-Bringer, and now I've begun the rewrites/adding art!!)

Read Light-Bringer on Wattpad: 🤩

Slay <3

Follow Ao3? I just made it and posted Light-bringer lmao ah

Thank you for reading this advertisement, back to your irregularly scheduled programming:

Light-Bringer-- Act One, Scene I: "Genesis"

[LILITH and ADAM, and their respective partners to come, are separated within the Garden of Eden. They're all surrounded by lush greenery, vines, small prey animals, lots of birds, and of course--the forbidden fruit's tree. URIEL, standing apart from the action as a whole, narrates the tale of the Garden of Eden. He reads from a large, golden-crested, purple leather-bound book.]

URIEL: In the Beginning, there was a man and a woman. Adam and Eve. The original pair--the two that lead to the whole human race. However, it seems some haven't heard the tales of the time before Eve: Adam had been first paired with the infamous "Lilith." The Queen of Darkness, an eventual ruler of Hell. The first woman.

[Beat.]

As I hope you will have inferred, Lilith and Adam's pairing wasn't--made in Heaven--so, eventually, Lilith decided to pursue her independence from Adam, refusing to stand by someone who didn't see her as an equal. And so, she left Adam. While alone in the tall trees of the forested garden, she was sought out by the only one who'd dare to be more infamous than she--Lucifer.

[URIEL continues narrating as LUCIFER enters--a bit hesitant. He taps LILITH on the shoulder, and she turns up to face him from her spot seated on the ground, LUCIFER gives a charming smile, and the pair sit, talking for a while.]

Lilith was "unsure," of Lucifer at first, but soon enough, she too saw something in the other, something they'd been starving for. Together, the world wasn't half-bad.

[LUCIFER and LILITH sit together brimming with sweet, youthful rebellion, eating the heart-shaped fruits, somber music swelling romantically in the back, campfire-like feeling]

LILITH: [LILITH'S attention fades away from the fruit. After a moment:] What do you think will happen next?

LUCIFER: [LUCIFER pauses, looking up from the fruit] How do you mean?

LILITH: Tomorrow. The sun will rise again.

LUCIFER: And?

LILITH: Well, you said there was this plan, what do you think will happen next?

LUCIFER: I haven't the slightest idea. [Finished the fruit.] What I do know is: tomorrow, the sun will rise and the sky will grow bright, and, tomorrow, you and I will wake together, along with all of the Garden of Eden.

LILITH: [Smiles.] Well, that will be nice, tomorrow. [LUCIFER smiles back]

[Lights fade, animals chirp and music swells as ADAM and EVE enter]

[ADAM sits against the forbidden tree as EVE flutters about in the greenery, tending to animals and plants of the garden]

ADAM: [Re. LILITH] ...I mean can you even believe that bitch?! Like, c'mon. All I asked for was like, some help. And then she just left! Unbelievable...

EVE: [Hasn't been listening] Oh, yeah, mhm, for sure--Lilith... yeah, got it.

ADAM: I know right? What a whore!! [A bird's repetitive tweeting gets on his nerves] The fuck is that?!

EVE: I don't know, Adam, what is it? ["What should we call it?"]

ADAM: Oh, shit, right. Uh–

EVE: [She shoos it away] ...Well?

ADAM: Shhhhh-uut up, I got it, I got it. Uhm..buh, bahhh,bo, birrrr, boooo[b]

EVE: Bird? [ADAM nods as EVE sits down]

ADAM. Bird. Boom. Done.

EVE: Right. [Beat.] So, I know you said the whole big plan wasn't really something you could explain. But, uhm, could you try? Like–I know you don't want me to eat the fruit, but, well, I guess I'm just not exactly clear on why.

ADAM: Oh not you too, why can't you ladies just do what they say? Don't eat the fruit from that one tree, then nothing will happen, it's simple, really. !

EVE: Adam, come on! Aren't you just a bit curious?

ADAM: Well, yeah, but I'm sure if we just do what they say, then nothing bad will happen!

EVE: [Resigned:] Mhm.

[Lights fade on ADAM and EVE, URI continues:]

URIEL: The next morning, no bird sang. Lilith had shared the fruit with an angel, and within the night, a certain serpent shared his fruit with Eve, who gifted it to Adam. [Beat.] As the golden rays of the sun peaked through the canopy of the Earth, surrounded by the Garden of Eden the lovers awoke in each other arms. And it was nice. [Beat, his tone darkens.] By day's end, the Garden was no more a home for mortals. Adam and Eve's story stayed on Earth, but Lilith's tale knows heights and depths never meant to be seen by a mere mortal. So, after some "convincing" [He makes a suspicious look at the word in his book,] Lucifer took Lilith with him to return to Heaven. Together, the partners vowed to declare their independence from Heaven, ready to be together--to be able to face anything the universe threw their way.

[Blackout.]

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ripeteeth · 10 months

Note

for the book asks--15 please! and also 20 if you don't mind a double ask <3

15: recommend and review a book.

Okay, so you KNOW what book you're gonna get for this lmao.

TO EVERYONE OUT THERE, PLEASE READ FRANKENSTEIN BY MARY SHELLEY.

I swear, that book UNHINGED me. I will never be the same. God, fuck, I can't believe I lost my 48-tweet love song to Frankenstein and why everyone should read it, but I cannot believe that at all of 19 years old, she could pack so much pathos and humanity in only 250 pages. It's everything. It's a spoiled terrified young twink brat only just realizing what he has brought into this world, that this squirming, naked, needy thing is his alone. His responsibility. And he flees into the night, a terrified new mother, desperate to pretend it never happened. I cannot ever stop thinking about the fact that she wrote this at 19 years old, all of about 18 months after losing her firstborn infant, who died during the night while Mary slept. How much of herself did Mary see in Victor? In the Creature? I lose my mind at the way Victor and the Creature are seen in popular culture, as this mad old scientist and his lumbering dumb awkward creation, when in reality Victor is all of about 22 at MOST when reanimates the Creature, all up there in his weird creepy attic apartment lab. He's a college dropout. An obsessive mess. And he abandons his child in his son's moment of need.

And the Creature! He's so passionate and eloquent, haunting and wounded. This should be the man who dogs our steps and keeps us up at night. This preternaturally strong man, who is largely impervious to cold and is wicked fast, who had each of his body parts chosen for their special beauty by Victor, but there is something about him, a living corpse with crepey skin and watery eyes, lips as dark as a dead man's, that terrifies everyone he comes in contact with.

And this is the thing!!!! He is not a monster. Look at him, turned out, born into that accursed attic with nothing. He could not yet see. He did not know language or how to defend himself, feed himself, warm himself, care for himself. He was left to die. But he stumbled along, covering himself with a coat he stole from the attic as he fled, naked and cold, and learned to start a fire, to feed himself on berries and plants, he taught himself to speak, read, and write simply by observing - and he observed humans from afar and yearned only to be loved and accepted. To be one of them.

It's such a fundamental, heartbreaking story. It shatters me. It compels me. I can't ever get them out of my head. Two men who damned each other, Victor by denying his creation the very real care and comfort and humanity that he owed to someone he brought into the world, and the Creature who sought to reduce Victor to that same state by killing everyone he loved, so that Victor would be like him, isolated and miserable. Alone.

And yet, even in the end, they're entwined. Victor's death ends the purpose of the Creature's life and he mourns his father-creator, even after all of it. It's such a complicated story of parent-child relationships, of the exploration of new boundary-pushing science, of pseudo-incestuous themes and tones between two men who have knotted themselves up so well into such a perfect tangle, that they can never be picked apart.

20. what are things you look for in a book?

Hmm. Good question.

I like to be fascinated. I love beautiful prose, but I'm particular about it and am not generally fond of it being too precious or purple. I love things with a bit of monstrosity that get into the gross and horrible details of life, like J.G. Ballard's Crash and John Gardner's Grendel, two absolute favorites. I love books that fuck with narrative structure and keep me guessing, like Italo Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveler and Julio Cortázar's Hopscotch. I love a certain sense of interiority and confessional voice, like Jeanette Winterson's Written on the Body, Olga Tokarczuk's Drive Your Plow Over The Bones Of The Dead, and Ocean Vuong's On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous. I love things that make my skin crawl but have a certain compelling beauty, like Patrick Süskind's Perfume: Story of a Murderer. I love a sense of awe and hope and hushed connection, the way Susanna Clarke's Piranesi left me.

#book asks #yo let me tell you about frankenstein i promise it will be real quick #tbh if they'd just fucked that would have saved both their asses #well not victor's ass because you know he picked a huge dick for the creature #rip victor frankenstein's ass you've got a big storm coming

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youkaigakkou-tl · 1 year

Text

Chapter 97 Extended Translation Notes

first off here's the spread without the text at the top. the stuff at the bottom, well..... see if i feel like it

this is mostly just unorganized thoughts nothing like my analysis posts

(future op after writing the whole post: this got kinda long lol)

ok now that im hidden in the readmore i can act insane. RAHHHHH AMAAKI ON THE COLOR PAGE RAHHHH WAHOOOOOO WOOHOOOOO BIG WIN FOR AME NATION ok got that out of my system im normal now

Rain or shine

In case you forgot, ame = rain, haru = sunny. I lose my mind every time this is relevant, like the ending of renren arc.

Whose mom is this

the other 3 are pretty obvious, but the 2nd one isn't immediately recognizable.

(also, 2 checks for "the couple's parents are meeting" for fujiogo and momo and gida)

just for fun, i process-of-eliminationed this

(cover page of chapter 57 my old friend)

everyone greyed out's parents statuses are confirmed, (other than akibe and koizumi, but given the physical features...)

though, i say i did this "just for fun", because i already kinda knew who's mom it was

(from this tweet)

it's mujina's mom. she's beside tamao's mom, the appearance matches, it makes sense.

Haha Sano what the fuck does this mean

the japanese says he "分からん" (wakaran), meaning "i dunno", and the chinese translation outright says "i don't have parents" which SEEMS to be what the jp is implying anyway

sano get back here you're not dunnoing your way out of this one

Also renren realised they don't share a surname. ebisu explain that you're not :>ing your way out of this one either

Shrines, huh

the plate over the torii just says "abe shrine" back in chapter 9, but given my google street view sleuthing and like, story details, even if its not the big fancy one in kyoto it is still an abe no seimei shrine. so on some level, haruaki, you're the god! what a coincidence, the "gods" are exactly as shocked as you are!

Tale of the bamboo cutter

This page was a damn nightmare to translate. (Mame's mistakes, not the actual story in grey. it's a well known classic that's been translated, no need to reinvent the wheel)

I tried to get the "hamuhane" part exactly like the jp, but mame's mistake on the 3 "sun" big child in the first 2 panels is a little different

He interprets "なる人" (naruhito) as "成人" (also naruhito); "hito" means person, the first "naru" means grow (like a plant) or contain (i think), the second one means "adult person".

I suppose I could have also went for "grown" person vs "grown person", but in any case, haruaki's explanation for what a "sun" is on the bottom 2 panels is almost exact, and i thought the "soon" comparison was a good way to get across that's how "sun" is pronounced

(also here's my "hamuhane" tl note)

anyway. nightmare page. looking forward to how the official tl does it when it comes out in (checks watch) like 2 years?

Ame and Ebisu interaction real

dunno if it gets across, but I think he has a height complex...

pretty weird thing to say, huh, Ebisu? to someone you just met? how do you know that anyway?

the only times Ame appeared has been ch8 when the gang went to Haru's house, ch23 when he pretended to be Haru (the rest of the class should be none the wiser) ch39 in the hospital (none of the class was there to see)

and then Ebisu gets introduced in ch 53, after that he hears firsthand that Haru has a twin in ch58, and then Ame is there in renren arc and outright says he's scared of youkai in ch76

Notice how Ebisu wasn't present for any of Ame's appearances prior. he wasn't involved in renren arc, and the person i think is his spy was turned to stone on the ground floor while the reveal on the roof happened.

of course, this could just be a combination of him projecting on Ame, and seeing him visibly scared of youkai a few pages prior. but "hate" is a fairly specific and strong word to use, and i also think he's too smart to not know Ame hates youkai, just a matter of where he got the info from.

The person I think is his spy

after doing some thinking (furigana reads: seeing this post), I think there's someone who's fairly likely to be the spy.

observe, the chart for "people who we've seen the parents of" and "people ranmaru might have seen in ch62"

we've narrowed it down to one man. (ok well there's a few in common here, but satsuki doesnt get screentime ever and ogata twins are too obvious for how much emphasis the ranmaru scene was given)

the kudan, Kurahashi.

but wait, you say, we know he's a youkai. he's got horns. we've seen him use his abilities.

but consider everything else. how often he interacts with Ebisu. how often he sticks his neck out for Ebisu

(i also have a lot of Thoughts abt the part timing incident, specifically his prediction

in his first appearance, he mentioned he couldn't see Haru's future well (because of his exorcism power, which, mind you, still don't know how that works exactly)

wouldn't be a stretch to think that his prediction wouldn't/can't take a god's interference into account. the thug was going to say "the customer is god" either way, but there's also the possibility that the moment kurahashi stepped in, his prediction of "toubyou get punched" couldn't play out exactly so the totally different thing of Ebisu stepping in happened. anyway)

it's not like any individual event incriminates him, rather how frequently it happens. in fact, kurahashi has been involved almost every time Ebisu appears. (put it another way, Ebisu's only major appearances where Kurahashi wasn't involved in some way was this chapter, and the youkai train)

adding on to that, we don't have any info on what his personal life is like, odd considering the amount of screentime he gets. (all of this is relevant to this chapter bc this would have been the perfect opportunity to show his parents, IF HE HAS ANY) the only things we know about his personal life is he's in the basketball club??? and that he was "raised to help people in trouble" whatever "raised" or "help" or "trouble" means

and now, the final nail in the coffin: this alternate cover that came with the 2021 december gfantasy issue

(oh yeah its also my blog header)

none of the official images of it included the flap with ranmaru, and previously i was willing to believe it's just a coincidence for 4 characters related to gods and kurahashi to be on the back cover together, but now that i've seen the whole thing, i feel like ranmaru being there seals the deal that it's intentional

count em, 5 whole characters, basically every major character that is/was a god, and one kurahashi yuuta, who we know nothing about despite his frequent appearances? kinda sus

and now, to return to the first question, isn't he a youkai? horns and youkai powers and all?

and to that i say: he could be another creature. we've just seen an example of this, suzaku, divine fire bird, becoming a tengu, which is also a bird

looking up kudan, it has been theorized that it's based off another mythical creature: the Bai Ze (or Hakutaku), a divine cow-like beast from china, who shares many characteristics with the kudan, only difference being it's associated with good luck instead of misfortune

ok this is kind of a nonsense theory but can you imagine. at the very least, theres a lot of very sus things about kurahashi specifically regarding ebisu. on the off chance he is a bai ze, it would make this image very funny

beniko the zashiki warashi, an auspicious youkai; sano the god of pestilence, but as a person brings haruaki good luck; and then kurahashi, whats his deal man?

thats all i have to say! lemme paste this into google docs for a word count-

oh. oh no. what the fuck how did this happen wasnt this a tl note

anyway hope u enjoyed this tl-note-turned-ebisu-kurahashi-analysis post! there's still way more i could analyse of ebisu and i'll probably do that someday. i could pick apart every word he says and still not know what his deal is

#rambles #youkai gakkou no sensei hajimemashita #a terrified teacher at ghoul school #yohaji #mysteries of the universe: how did i get this much tl note out of this one lighthearted chapter

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abyssal-ali · 1 year

Text

Stars Around My Scars

Part 1

Pairing: Jasonette

Rating: T

Word Count: ~5.7 k

I don't believe there are any warnings, but if you think I should add one, let me know!

Some things may make more sense if you read my (extended) Author's Note here.

Cardigan AU Masterlist here.

Everyone say thank you to my wonderful betas @sarcasticbambi and @boldlyanxious <3<3<3

Any errors are mine, and please don't hesitate to point them out (but please be nice, I'm really proud of this AU).

Requested by @mochegato from my discord poll. I hope you like it! (I promise the fluff and comfort is coming <3 )

You drew Stars Around my Scars

Marinette rushed from her last class to her locker.

The teeming crowds of students milled around the suddenly full hallways, pulling her closer to her goal. Her boyfriend often left little notes or clues to gifts, and it always brightened her day to find a loving surprise. How he knew her locker code, she didn't know, but brushed it off (she'd certainly acquired dubious skills for stupider reasons than giving her SO a gift).

There was nothing there today, but when she slammed it shut she turned and walked into her boyfriend.

“Hey, Pixie. Ready to go?”

She groaned. “Nooo. I have to work on my Lit essay.”

“I can help; whatever you need.”

He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the quiet library, seemingly empty except for the rows of books and the librarian, Ms. Blue. She nodded familiarly at them and went back to her computer as they disappeared deeper into the library's abyss. Finally, they stopped at a table and Marinette dumped her things on its surface.

“Okay, let's do this.”

About an hour after they began working on their homework, Jason got up to find a book for references. A few minutes later, Marinette noticed he still hadn't returned, so she decided to stretch her legs and go look for him. After scouring several rows, she finally heard a thump behind her. The trail of thumps led her to a corner of the library, where Jason was waiting with a smug grin.

“You did miss me.”

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “I have to keep a very close eye on you when we're in a library or bookstore. I couldn't wait too long or I mayn't have seen you ever again. Like that time I lost you at the B&N.”

“Mayn't?”

She punched his (stupidly solid) arm. “It's an uncommon contraction that should be used more.”

“I'll tell the world to start, then. We should make a prank on Twitter.”

“Oui, good idea! No one will know it's us trolling them, and you can share your bizarre stories and explain your unusual skills.”

“What bizarre stories?” He followed her back to their table, setting up a new Twitter account on his way.

“Um, my ex-girlfriend possessed my other ex, for one. That time you met a civil, agreeable demon, for two...you are a mysterious person, Jason Todd.”

“Thank you, I try to be as cryptid-like as possible. What shall we name our crack account?”

“Um...our names combined make “Janette”; Janette can be the mod. For the handle, how about...Janette@pothamcrack. Yeah. And before you ask, Paris + Gotham equals Potham.”

“Great. Here, our first official tweet. Janette@pothamcrack says: 'Mayn't' is an underused contraction. Use it more, cowards'.”

“Perfect. Can you make everyone we know that's verified follow us so more people are subjected to our crack and insanity?”

•○•○•○•

Jason knocked on Marinette's door. There was a brief flurry of activity, then she opened it enough to stick her head out.

“Heyyy, Jay. You're early!”

“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked, faux-offended.

“No, of course not...come in. I just gotta...”

“Why is there blood on your sweatshirt? Are you hurt?”

Jason carefully circled her, gingerly trailing his hands over her body to check her reactions. When he reached her lower left ribs, she only winced once, very quickly, but he caught her reaction and yanked her Gotham Knights sweatshirt up a couple inches. Her hand grabbed his wrist tightly, preventing him from moving.

“Oh, sorry, Pix. I...should've asked first.” He felt quite remorseful, knowing she hated showing skin, though he didn't know the reason why. But if she was hurt and hiding it, and bleeding...“How badly are you hurt, Pix? Do you need me to take you to the clinic?”

Marinette looked down. “I'm fine, it's just a scratch,” she mumbled quietly. "I was just gonna change, you don't need to worry.”

Now Jason was really concerned. Why was she hiding it? If it really wasn't bad, she'd show him as proof, like that time he thought she chopped her fingers off (in hindsight he may have panicked a bit, but she was his girlfriend and he was terrified of something hurting her) and she immediately showed him the barely-visible nick on her finger.

He gently tilted her chin up to face him and started directly into her blue eyes.

“Marinette, I'm your boyfriend, and I'm worried about you. I understand if you don't want me to see, but can you tell me what happened, at least?”

She dropped her gaze again, though it could only reach his callused hand this time, and inhaled sharply, then winced again.

“I was lightly stabbed from an attempted mugging, but I'm fine! It's just a scratch! I'm sorry for worrying you. I was just gonna get a bandaid; it's not that deep.”

“Stabbed and mugged? Marinette Wendy Dupain-Cheng Stone, why didn't you tell me?!”

She jerked her chin out of his hold and glared at him. “Because I don't need to answer you. I'm an adult and I can take care of myself just fine, thank you. If you don't trust my judgement, then you obviously don't respect me and you can leave me to my first aid.”

“Woah, Pix. I-” Jason stopped and took a deep breath.

“Okay, clearly you have some things we should talk about, but first, you're right. I'm sorry. We can talk about this after you get first aid. I don't have to watch, but I'm staying until we talk this stuff out, Marinette."

Marinette headed to the bathroom where her closest first aid kit was and began unpacking it to search for the things she needed.

The door shut in Jason's face with a decisive click.

He sat across the hall, leaning against the wall and talking to Marinette. She didn't reply, but she didn't chase him out or tell him to shut up, either, so he took it as a win.

Finally, the door opened and Marinette stood in the doorway, just looking at him.

Jason slowly got to his feet and scanned her up and down, just in case she'd bled out in the bathroom and was now a zombie or some other supernatural revenant his brain cursed him with imagining.

She'd left her sweatshirt off and was just in a white tank top, bloodstained on the lower left side (thankfully less blood than his traumatised brain helpfully made him think of), and her jeans. His eyes landed on her arms, which she usually had covered by a sweater or hoodie (usually one of his).

Scars of various sizes and shapes littered her arms and what he could see of her chest. She'd told him that everyone was healed and brought back to life, but he'd thought it was completely healed, not left with scars.

A sudden flash of insight hit him and he blinked, then moved across to hug her gently. “I'm glad you're not seriously hurt. Are you in pain? Do you want me to get a pill?”

“One small slice does not constitute pain, Jason.” She was avoiding his eyes again, he noticed. He much preferred those pretty blues looking at him, not away from him in shame or pain or anger.

“I understand.”

Which hurts more, A or B? Forehand, or backhand?

“I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I didn't...when you told me about Hawkmoth and Multimouse, you obviously toned it down a lot.”

Marinette realised he had picked her up and they were now in her kitchen, where he perched her on the island and began making her a mug of tea. Oh, she realised. He's not just talking about the mugging.

Her lips quirked up a bit as she watched him move around her kitchen familiarly.

Jason handed her her favourite mug and leaned against the counter beside her.

“Are you okay, besides the 'light stabbing'?”

She glared at him over the rim of her mug, but it lacked heat. “Yeah, it was only an attempted mugging. The dude was following me so I ducked into an alley and when he 'caught' me, I let him get close enough to stab me and then I grabbed his wrist, kneed him, and put him in an armlock. The stab was simply a tactical sacrifice. Then a nice cop drove by as I was zip-tying him, so I let him take the guy into the station. His name was, um, Dick Grayson, I think? He had similar features to you...anyways, yeah, I'm fine, you worrywart. I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier, I just...I shouldn't have yelled, I'm sorry. You were just worried but it reminded me of some situations in Paris and I reacted disproportionately.”

“I forgive you, Pixie. Can you tell me what part of what I did and said reminded you, so I can work on that?”

“The...well, it wasn't really anything. I'm just always on guard because I had to fight for people to trust me so much, and my ex-partner was...always crossing lines and I was always explaining things I shouldn't have had to. You were just asking out of worry, but I immediately jumped to you trying to back me into a corner. It's not something you have to work on,” she snorted bitterly.

As she spoke, Jason picked up her free hand and began running his fingers over her arm soothingly. Marinette suddenly realised what he was doing and focused on the shapes. He was slowly tracing stars around every single mark and scar on her arms. Eventually, he reached her shoulder and left his arm comfortingly across them. She snuggled a little closer and they drank their tea in cosy silence.

○○○○○○○

To Kiss in Cars and Downtown Bars

Jason flipped through the security feeds from his office in the Iceberg Lounge. A familiar face at the back of the line to get in caught his eye. Why...

He changed out of his Red Hood gear into his usual outfit of jeans, a T-shirt, and his leather jacket (different from his RH jacket), then snuck out the door.

•○•○•○•

Marinette jumped as a large, warm hand was put over her mouth. She hadn't heard anyone coming, but they were awfully brave to attempt...whatever...in full view of the bouncers a few metres ahead. She made eye contact with one but he completely ignored her!

Now Marinette was more annoyed at the bouncer's incompetence than the person behind her!

“It's me.”

She whirled around. “Jay? What're you doing here?”

He plucked her ID from her hands (thanks to Fluff and Trixx, she had a passably legal ID) and examined it.

“Not bad. C'mon.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind the Lounge. A passcode later, they were in the dark hallway leading from the club's fire exit.

“Here.” He handed her a metal bracelet. “It tells people to back off, you're under the owner's protection. You also won't have to pay.” He pointed to his matching bracelet. “Maybe you'll tell me why you're trying to enter a club?”

She strolled over to the bar, him following closely as usual.

“I'm legal in Paris. Apparently, I have the worst luck. My old class is coming on an exchange in a couple months so they can tour some American universities and experience the American high school system. The problem is, they all think I'm dead - a strawberry daiquiri, please.”

“Mood. Can't you...avoid them? Hack the system and become part of the class going to Paris?”

She chugged half her drink, impressing him, and shook her head.

“Most people in Paris think I'm dead. Paris is bad for me...all the memories...and I was asked to be a translator if there are any issues and because I'm a helpful person who still hasn't learned to say no, I said yes! Although, I didn't know it was my class until the details were sent after I already agreed.”

“Oh...that is a problem. I'm also fluent in French, could I replace you or at least help you?”

“I'll talk to Mr. Patel, he's organising it, but that should be okay. We can continue Janette's crack—they're so idiotic sometimes, and yet they can be so brilliant others, I really don't understand it.”

“I can't wait to meet them. And um, maybe don't chug your drink without eating something?”

“Right. Want to dance?” She held out her hand. He took it and kissed the back, spinning her away from the counter.

“Sure.”

After a couple dances and a close call with a tipsy patron, they headed to a quiet corner, where Marinette dissected outfits and rated style with Jason, who knew a surprising amount about fashion. She supposed he'd heard more than one of her rants/lectures and picked stuff up.

Around midnight, Jason's phone buzzed and he sighed.

“Hey, Pix, I gotta go. Can I bring you home first?”

“Sure. Did you bring your bike?” She followed him outside, her hand still in his.

“Nah, I borrowed a friend's car because I had to transport stuff earlier.”

He led her to a sleek black car and opened the door for her. When he crossed the hood to get to his side, she leaned over and opened the driver's door for him and smiled sweetly.

The drive to Jagged's penthouse, where she was currently living until her parents finalised closing the bakery in Paris and joining her in Gotham, was quiet, broken by her soft humming of random song snippets.

“Thanks for the fun evening, Jay. I was so bummed about them coming, but you cheered me up.”

Marinette leaned over and kissed Jason's cheek before she got out of the car, but he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her back for a longer, proper kiss.

“Night, Pix. Have sweet dreams, maybe of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled and waved him off noncommittally. His ego would be too big if she told him she often dreamed of him.

•○•○•○•

Marinette sighed at Tikki and Wayzz for the fourth time.

“I know I should, I just don't want to. Why can't I live in denial a little longer? He treats me like a princess.”

“Marinette, this is the third time in three weeks that he left your date early with no explanation. This won't be healthier for you in the long run if you keep denying it,” the ladybug kwami advised.

“I'm just tired, Tikki. Aside from the dates and being even more selective about what he tells me about his family and life than I am, it's great! I didn't want a busy, dramatic year. Can I seriously not just leave it a little longer?”

“Guardian, there is a difference between being patient and understanding, and letting everything slide because you don't want to confront someone. There is a possibility he just doesn't know how or when to bring some of these things up, so just try talking to him,” said Wayzz. “If that does not resolve anything, then you can consider what to do after that.”

“And as for the 'no drama' you want, ignoring all of this is only adding to it,” Tikki interjected.

Marinette huffed a breath of hot air and crossed her arms petulantly, knowing the kwami were right. “Fine. I'll ask him to meet me later.”

○○○○○○○

Peter Losing Wendy

“I think we should break up.” She looked him in the eye as she stabbed him in the heart with those dreaded words.

“Why?”

He knew it was for the best, it would keep her safer, but he'd hoped...if she wanted it, he would let her go, taking his heart with him, as he ignored the urge to hold her and never release her.

“You can't explain those weird texts and calls and disappearances, and you've been late or left early with such plausible excuses...I can't...it looks like Adrien 2.0. And believe me, I don't want to think that, but ...call it PTSD or whatever, you're so hot and cold. You keep me at arms' length for so many things, and then you turn around and you're the warmest, most perfect boyfriend I could want. You've got this way of telling me everything, but it's nothing at all...all an illusion. I just, I can't do this again. It's not fair to either of us. Gotham has been better to me than Paris, and I'm going to fight with everything this time."

...And now she was taking his shattered heart with her.

“I asked you to come so we could talk about it, try and figure this out, but you cancelled last-minute, again, Jason. Once or twice I understood, but now it just feels like you're avoiding me, or at least avoiding opening up to me. I'm just...done. I can't ignore all of this anymore, and I'm tired.”

He couldn't do this to her. He'd seen how scarred she was after Multimouse. Now, as an ordinary civilian with loads of PTSD, he wouldn't risk hurting her anymore, repeating Parisian mistakes.

He swallowed. “I'm sorry, P-Marinette.” He turned to leave, blinking rapidly. “If you're in trouble, call me. I'll still come.”

As he turned to shut the door his eyes met hers.

Both pairs were overflowing.

“Goodbye, and good luck.”

The door closing behind him sounded like a sentencing being put into effect.

•○•○•○•

She didn't go to school for two days, choosing to curl into a ball and cry instead.

When she'd first enrolled as Marinette Stone - courtesy of Jagged and Penny helping her set up a new life in his hometown - everyone had been trying to get to know the other new transfer student, Jason.

She'd snubbed him, wanting her final school year to be drama free, and he'd laughed.

Thus began an academic rivalry, and everyone thought they were sworn enemies from the cold way she'd greet him in the halls. For his part, he was warmer to her than anyone else, which confused her, but she wrote him off as a masochist.

But thanks to meddling from Mrs. Perez, who paired them up on a very important assignment, they became sworn besties instead, which led to dating. They kept it quiet, finding that trolling the entire school was hilarious to them, as well as the disappointed look in Mrs. Perez's eyes when at the end of the assignment, they were still rivals and not in love (yes, Mrs. Perez was the biggest Marison shipper).

Jason picked up one of her design scribbles and looked at the hand-lettering she'd done when she was bored in class.

“Your name is Marinette Wendy Dupain-Cheng?”

“Yeah, so?”

“We're Peter and Wendy! My full name is Jason Peter Todd.”

“Didn't they end up not together?”

“... Right. Well… You're petite, so you can be Tinker Bell then.”

She hoped her face conveyed her scepticism. “Tinker Bell? A pixie?”

He ignored her and exclaimed, “Pixie it is!” happy to finally have a nickname she didn't hate or have bad connotations with.

Marinette cried even harder at the memory. They hadn't ended up together, after all.

○○○○○○○

I Knew You (Marked Me Like A Bloodstain)

The tell-tale swish of a grappling hook being deployed caught Jason's attention from where he sat on the roof's vent, swinging his legs as he surveyed his empire's capital, Crime Alley. He rolled backwards off the vent and faced the Dark Knight, tensing for an altercation, whether verbal or physical.

“What do you want, B,” he snapped, annoyed his depression session had been interrupted by the partial cause of the entire mess he was moping about right now.

Batman didn't move, signifying he wanted to talk right now, not fight.

“You haven't been around in either capacity lately, and you didn't respond when Nightwing texted you earlier, either. I just wanted to make sure you're doing okay.”

Angrily, Red Hood turned on Batman with a growl. “As you can see, I'm out, so I'm perfectly healthy. You don't need to check in on your wayward soldier personally. You only care that I'm fine so that you know if you can call me to help on missions and I'll come running back like a dog when you whistle. Just because I'm working with you more doesn't mean I'm one of your little clones who only exists to be useful to you; I have my own life and I don't have to answer to you about any of it.”

“Hood, where is this coming from?” Batman truly sounded bewildered. “I was only checking on you because I care about you. I care about your health and functioning because I care about you.”

“Well maybe you care too much, B. You're constantly calling me out on missions and that's about the only time you contact me, unless Agent A requests it. If you actually care about me as a person, if not your son, you'd ask to see me outside of the mask, but you haven't, which leads me to my previous conclusions. I'm taking a break from all of your messes. If you need my help, don't contact me, and clean it up yourself. I'll be back when I'm back—if I'm back. And don't snoop!”

Hood jumped off the roof and landed on a fire escape, using parkour moves to slide down railings, and assassin-training to evade Batman's close tail. Eventually, Batman gave up and Hood moved out of the shadows to mope back in his Bat-proof apartment.

•○•○•○•

Chasing Shadows (in Grocery Lines)

Red Hood angrily yanked the knots tight on the goons' restraints. He knew the Untitled were in Gotham, but why? Besides the obvious (to kill him), of course.

A flash of movement caught his eye, and he followed it carefully. He snuck up behind the faux-Catwoman and hissed, “Who are you and why are you here?”

“...Catwoman, of course. You know cats, curiosity kills us.”

Convincing.

She acted similarly to Selina, but she was... off. Wrong inflection, similar mannerisms but they were too forced, the suit wasn't pure black like Selina's (it was black with grey accents), no purr...

“No, you're not. Catwoman and I have a bi-monthly feline petting session where we complain about Batman, so I've spent enough time with the Sirens to know you're just… Uncanny Valley Catwoman.” He waved his hand at faux-Catwoman's entire existence.

She hissed and her ears and tail twitched.

Were...they real?

“Look, I don't want to fight you, but you're making it hard. Don't insult 'short' people. It's not our fault you're trees.”

“I'll stop saying things like that when you stop looking at me as if you want to climb me like one,” he retorted.*

Wait, faux-Catwoman, Bat-adjacent, flirting on a roof… NO! I'm not becoming Bruce!!

“I'm here because I think some of my trainer's enemies are after me,” faux-Catwoman blurted in an attempt to change the subject.

Ha, he could still see her cheeks and neck warming.

“Who?”

“They're a creepy old magic group called the Untitled. Ironic, I know. I don't know much about them besides the fact that they're incredibly evil, and they want my Miraculous.”

“Are you All-Caste too?” He didn't think they had anyone left besides himself, but if they were travelling while the Untitled attacked, maybe someone escaped...

“What?”

“Nevermind. I didn't know the Untitled had more enemies than my sect. I'm the last member; the Untitled wiped the rest of us out. I can tell you more about the Untitled once I finish my patrol, in 20-ish minutes?”

Faux-Catwoman nodded. “The gargoyle across from Drake Industries work for you?”

“Sure. What should I call you, by the way?”

“Onyx. Ciao!”

Twenty-three minutes later, Red Hood grappled up to his gargoyle, finding Onyx sitting beside it, casually swinging her feet as if she wasn't 40 stories up and untethered.

“So, you like Freddy too?”

“Freddy?”

“My thinking gargoyle. You're new in town.”

Onyx sighed heavily. “No, you're just the first person to notice I'm not Catwoman.”

Jason sensed she needed to talk more so he employed his most effective interrogation technique, silence, and she began talking a moment later.

“This is Paris all over again. Do you know about what happened in Paris?”

Jason nodded and pulled out a granola bar from his pocket, unwrapped it, and began eating as she continued.

“I was Ladybug. When I became Guardian of the Miraculous, I revoked my black cat's ring. He'd been corrupted since he wasn't a true black cat, and also from living in a house with the corrupted butterfly and broken peacock Miraculous. His dad was Hawkmoth, though he didn't know that, and he was my boyfriend as a civilian. Turns out he was cheating on me with my bully per his father's and my bully's manipulation.

“I used the Miraculous of Multiplication to become Bugmouse and Catmouse, and when I got the Miraculous from Hawkmoth, I put them away.

"My uncle helped me move here to start afresh… in Paris, everywhere I went, there were memories… And most weren't happy. When I came here, life was great… I didn't think I wanted another boyfriend but I did get one… And now I've broken up with him. He was perfect, and I was waiting for the imperfections, but... It turned into Paris II: Electric Boogaloo. He would disappear randomly, and it seemed like he was waiting till I was busy so I wouldn't notice. I followed him once because he'd left something behind, but it was like he knew I was tailing him and he lost me. He never introduced me to his family — he said they were semi-estranged, but I can't help wondering...

"So I grabbed a Miraculous and became Onyx; beating up bad guys is better than therapy, y'know? I just didn't expect to be traced by the Miraculous's signature by the Untitled.

“And now Gotham is becoming Paris,” she finished with a heavy sigh. “At least to me.”

After another silence, she gasped quietly. “I'm sorry for monologuing on you, you just felt… like a comrade, maybe? You give off safe vibes, anyways.”

The more she talked, the more she solidified his suspicion that Onyx was Marinette.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, Onyx.” He didn't want to say anything else, partially out of guilt, and partially to stop himself from explaining everything and throwing himself on her mercy and begging her to take him back.

“So, the Untitled?” Onyx cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, turning to see his (masked) face a bit better.

“Right. The Untitled are millennia-old evil sibling magicians who got their power from a well of evil. There are only eight members of the Untitled, but they are very old and powerful. They were enemies with the group who trained me, the All-Caste, and killed them all. They can't be killed by normal means, but I have the All-Blades, which can defeat them. Do you have anything that can harm them, do you know?” Hood asked.

“I suspect the ‘Cataclysm’ power and perhaps ‘Clout’ or ‘Uproar’, and though I'd prefer not to test it in battle and find I'm wrong, I don't know how else to confirm my hypothesis.”

“Then how about you stay in the background while I take on the Untitled with the All-Blades, and when there's an opening you try your hypothesis?”

“I can do that. When are we going?” He asked her.

“Sooner rather than later, I think. When can you-”

“Okay, give me ten minutes,” Onyx interrupted. “I'll get my Miraculous and meet you at the warehouse at the edge of Gotham, in the westernmost part of the Tricorner Yards. You can lure the Untitled there or something, right?”

“Yeah, I can do that. Ten minutes average or ten minutes on the dot?”

“On the dot. I have a very precise Miraculous.”

“...okay. See you in 10, Onyx.”

•○•○•○•

Ten minutes later, Onyx appeared in the shadows of the warehouse, where Jason was already in the middle of two Untitled, his glowing swords flickering in the dark and giving off an eerie vibe. The chill and sense of evil permeating the air didn't help, either.

Onyx's suit was now pure black, with thin stripes of red, magenta, and brown scattered around her suit.

“Cataclysm,” Onyx whispered and threw the ball of destruction at the Untitled on Jason's rear.

The Untitled were now alerted to her presence and she moved swiftly from shadow to shadow. One began to approach her, and she instinctively activated the tiger's power, ‘Clout’. The immense power from the magical punch knocked the being out, and Onyx turned her attention to the two Untitled who took the place of the previous duo already taken care of by Red Hood's swords.

“Uproar!” she cried, hoping the power-disrupting ability would work on the beings as she tossed the circlet like a frisbee at them. Onyx breathed deeply in relief when she realised her powers did work on the Untitled and turned to face the remaining two, back to back with Hood.

They attacked at the same time, swirling black shadows with surprising speed, but Onyx had prepared a second Cataclysm and yelled “Jump!” at Hood as the Untitled reached them.

The Untitled almost crashed into each other and tried to stop themselves before they could collide. It was too late, however. Onyx and Hood jumped to the first level above them (superpowers handily granting them extra height), and watched as the same cataclysm turned both ghouls into nothing.

Hood exhaled jaggedly and turned to her. “You have some nice moves and those were some sick abilities!”

She grinned, a little winded from using three Miraculous at once, and replied, “You weren't too bad yourself! Those swords sure are handy.”

“Yeah… Thank you for your help, Onyx. I couldn't have taken them all down at once without you.”

She waved it off and swung down to the floor again. “It was my pleasure, I assure you. I'm thrilled one less group of weird power-hungry monsters is after my head.”

“If you want to team up for a night of regular vigilantism, that'd be cool. Or are you leaving, now that you're safe again?”

“No, I'm here for another unforeseen amount of time,” she sighed, civilian life distracting her.

Hood didn't want to have her dwelling on their breakup quite yet so he decided to distract her. “Hey, how'd you learn that flippy move you did back there? It was really cool.”

Onyx cheered up a little. “Really? Thanks. My uncle taught me, actually... I'd taken gymnastics for a couple years so I had a good base and then he built off that. I have a similar build to his daughter, so he taught both of us. I think you'd get along great… He does prefer a sword, but he's still pretty handy with a gun.”

“Oh, maybe I've heard of him?”

“Uh...Slade Wilson?” Onyx asked hesitantly.

Deathstroke was Onyx's uncle?!

“Your uncle is Deathstroke?!” he blurted.

Onyx chuckled guiltily. “Heh. Not by blood, my nonna just has a ton of connections with really strange people, and she introduced us a few years ago. He kinda adopted me, so I just call him uncle. Y'know, we only see each other a couple times a year. He likes to surprise me when he visits and keeps my skills sharp, so he usually makes sneak attacks. I've got a good eye for attempted assassinations thanks to it!” she said cheerily, rambling in her nervousness but somehow concerning him more.

Hood was a little more scared of Onyx after he learned that information.

Yeah, Talia al Ghul had adopted him, but she was less likely to come after Marinette just because she was dating her son. Also, he knew her.

Slade was protective of his children, even if he did nothing else as their father, and he was unpredictable.

Hood shivered and headed home chilled, looking over his shoulder a couple more times than he usually did.

•○•○•○•

Jason wandered aimlessly down the aisles, collecting items he remembered he needed and tossing them in his basket. Bread, yeast for when he was feeling less sad and went back to making his own, milk, oats, soap, bandages and ointment, coffee, chicken, ice cream.

He headed to the only checkout lane open and put his purchases on the conveyor belt. The bored and tired-looking young adult started soullessly scanning them while Jason rolled his eyes at a gossip rag loudly proclaiming Wayne family "news" on its cover.

He reached for his wallet and spun back to face the shadows. Slim, black hair, shadowy…Marinette?

He looked closer and grimaced at Cass.

“What are you doing here?” he signed, annoyance clear in his body language.

“Saw you going by and you looked sad, so I followed you. No one else knows,” she replied.

He frowned harder. “I’m fine. Just tired. And I told B not to contact me. I’ll talk to whomever of you I want when I want to, and I don’t want to talk to any of you right now,” he signed emphatically. “Thanks for checking on me, but I don’t need it.”

He turned back to the slightly bewildered-looking cashier, who had only seen him making gestures at the shadows, and rolled his eyes harder. Stupid Bats, always making him look foolish.

He grimace-smiled politely and handed over the cash, grabbing his bags and leaving immediately, feeling even more foolish for thinking Cass had been Marinette.

Marinette wouldn’t be near him willingly for a while. Clearly he needed to do something about that.

He’d been feeling more foolish in the past couple days than in the past couple years combined.

Marinette had told him she was a temp hero, Multimouse, and stayed in contact with her friends, who had been temporary and official heroes. She clearly still cared about them and knew they were heroes, yet didn’t act any differently. He could’ve told her his secrets, she would’ve understood and kept them, but he didn’t want to hurt her with them.

Well, if she was still friends with official heroes, she’d obviously weighed the risks and decided it didn’t matter. He should have let her choose in their relationship, too.

Marinette had good judgement (the only strike he had against that evidence was her agreeing to date him in the first place, but then again he’d always been a good actor out of necessity) and he trusted it, although he hadn’t really shown that.

Tired of waffling between should he talk to her/should he leave her in peace and never show his face in front of her again, he finally decided.

○○○○○○○

THE END of Part One

Thank you for reading!

*this sentence is all thanks to @nitwitjustice, who gave permission for me to use his quip in my fic :)

#Cardigan au #Jasonette #ali writes #Mlbxdc #Dcxmlb #Fic

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separatist-apologist · 2 years

Text

We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

Read More: Chapter 1 | AO3

Gwyn woke to the wheels of the plane jolting on the runway. Her face was plastered against the plastic wall just beside the window and her whole body was still from leaning at such an odd angle. She stretched out her legs and turned to see Azriel slumped over, head on his shoulder, arms crossed against his chest. For one blissful moment, Gwyn forgot what they’d done in that bathroom. She was back in high school, admiring the man beside her.

The plane bounced again and she was reminded when her body clenched around the phantom feel of his cock thrusting into her. Oh God. She’d had sex in an airplane bathroom with a stranger. And she hadn’t even been drunk. What was wrong with her?

Azriel opened one hazel eye and then the other, rubbing them with the heel of his hand. He stretched, looking over at a practically vibrating Nesta and a barely awake Cassian. He looked over at her and blinked, a slow smile creeping over his face. He was remembering too. In the light of the new day, Gwyn wondered if she hadn’t made a horribly impulsive mistake.

There was no time to discuss it with him. The minute all the lights went off on the aircraft, everyone was in the aisles grabbing their things.

Azriel grabbed her bag and kept the rising swell of people trying to shove past from trapping her in her chair. Gwyn’s eyes settled on his arms, still covered in tattoos, and wondered absently what they meant. She’d never found out, hadn’t thought to ask last night when his tongue had been in her throat.

She shook her head, grabbed her suitcase, and made her way down the ramp. Azriel kept pace, courtesy of his much longer legs. He said nothing at all—he merely followed Cassian’s bulky frame through the half empty airport. It was here that Emerie finally caught up with Gwyn, all but slamming into her back. Emerie flung her arm over Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Did you get any sleep?” she asked. Gwyn panicked for a moment as Azriel glanced over, letting them fall behind.

“A little,” she admitted. “My neck is wrecked, though.”

“Same,” Emerie admitted. “How are you doing?”

Ah, hell. Gwyn smiled and told her friend, “I’m fine. I swear.”

“It’s just…everyone is coupled up and…” Emerie trailed off awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” Gwyn insisted, pulling out her passport. She was better than fine, given she’d had sex six hours earlier to the man walking four feet ahead of her.

“Well, I’m not gonna ditch you. And I heard Lucien talking earlier, apparently this island is big enough that a lot of people stay at the resort. So there will be all kinds of opportunities for shenanigans. If you want them, anyway.”

Great.

Gwyn smiled. Emerie was so nice, was her best friend. She cared. She also didn’t know that Gwyn was lying about Jonathon for purely selfish reasons. She swallowed, her guilt pricking in her stomach. She was saved by the line pushing her forward. Gwyn collected her passport stamp at the same time Nesta did.

“Hey,” Nesta said with a breathless smile. “Can I ask a favor? Do you mind swapping rooms with Elain and Lucien?”

“What’s wrong with their room?”

“Nothing,” Nesta said easily, looking over her shoulder, likely for Cassian. “It’s just, when I booked yours I sort of assumed Jonathon was thinking about proposing so I wanted it to be extra romantic—”

“Oh,” she interrupted. “Yeah, no, they can have it.”

Nesta bit her bottom lip. “You don’t mind? Theirs shares a door with another room but as long as you keep it closed you won’t have to interact with them.”

“Who is on the other side?”

Nesta offered an apologetic smile. “Azriel. When I set it all up, he said he didn’t mind and Elain and Lucien waited until the last minute to get back to me so—”

“That’s fine,” Gwyn replied, unsure if she was being honest or not. She certainly didn’t want to be in a room that was so ridiculously romantic all she could think about was Jonathon…and at the same time, Gwyn wasn’t sure sharing a door with Azriel was smart, either.

“Elain’s going to be so excited. Thank you for this. I know it’s a lot–”

“It’s nothing,” Gwyn promised as Emerie came up, beaming at Nesta. “I want this to be a perfect two weeks for you.”

“Miss getting married,” Emerie added, the three falling into step. For a moment they said nothing at all, drinking in the glass window pouring in warm sunlight and the scuffed linoleum beneath their feet.

“I’m getting married!” Nesta exclaimed loud enough that passersby all turned to look. Gwyn and Emerie grinned, well aware that it had taken a full decade to get to this moment. Gwyn glanced over her shoulder to Cassian, talking to Azriel quietly though his eyes were on Nesta. They were always on Nesta, always had been. What was it like for him, she wondered? If Nesta was excited, how did Cassian feel? He’d been in love with her as long as she’d know him.

It took forever to collect their suitcases from baggage claim and Gwyn was once again reminded that having a bright colored suitcase spared her from having to lift every black one like Cassian and Rhys did. Elain had done the same with a pink and purple floral pattern Lucien grabbed almost instantly. It was just smart.

“I’ll take that,” Azriel said, grabbing the handle of her larger back so she didn’t have to drag two behind her. Those were the first words he’d said since they’d landed.

“You don’t have to,” she breathed. She’d forgotten how deep his voice was, made worse when it was rough from sleep.

“I know,” he scoffed, following Cassian out of the sliding doors. Eris had arranged for a van to pick them all up—another hour long drive to the dock, and then a forty five minute boat ride from the mainland to the island. Gwyn was exhausted just thinking about it.

“You look dead on your feet,” Azriel added with one arched brow. She looked up, surprised to see that at this angle, there was a tattoo creeping from beneath his shirt over his neck. She hadn’t noticed before, but the whorling black ink looked nice against the warm brown of his skin. All of it—from his slightly stained fingers to the tattoos gracing so much of his skin, to his casual hair flopped in his bright eyes—gave him an aura of danger.

She could admit it was nice when Azriel hauled her bags into the back of the massive, white van. All Gwyn had to do was pick a seat, settling herself between Nesta and Gwyn right in the back. Mor clambered back with them, nervous beside Emerie. There was some weird history between her and Nesta that Gwyn didn’t know about, though it made her suspicious all the same. She wanted to support Emerie and she also didn’t want one wrong thing happening during Nesta’s wedding.

If it bothered Nesta, she didn’t say. She put her head on Gwyn’s shoulder while the rest of their group loaded in. They weren’t the only ones who were exhausted. Elain and Feyre all but stumbled up, helped by Lucien, his hair pulled off his face in a messy bun. Rhys’s eyes were smudged purple and when he plopped into his seat, the whole van rocked a little. Only Cassian and Azriel seemed like they were doing alright.

“Group nap when we get there?” Nesta called once the doors shut.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Lucien agreed from the front, his arm around both Feyre and Elain.

Gwyn didn’t fall asleep, but she didn’t participate in the alphabet game with Cassian and Rhys and Lucien, either. Her eyes felt heavy and when they stopped at the docks and realized they’d have to wait a full half hour before the boat arrived, she understood why toddlers so often threw themselves on the pavement and screamed.

The air was warm, the sun bright, and the town they stood in was exactly how she imagined. Narrow, cobblestone streets were lined with houses built centuries before. Draped in leafy vines and bright colored awnings, it was all old world charm. The air was salty and maybe a little fishy, but had the distinct scent of citrus laced beneath it. She itched to explore. She’d have to ask if they could take the ferry back and forth or if they were bound to the island the whole time.

The boat came and Azriel wordlessly continued carrying her bag, much to the approval of Nesta.

“Az is being nice,” she murmured to Gwyn, unaware of just how nice Az had been. “I saw he sat with you on the plane.”

“I asked him to,” Gwyn admitted, climbing the steps to the rocking boat. “I needed someone to block you and Cassian sucking face for nine hours.”

Nesta laughed. “You didn’t catch us try and join the mile high club,” she all but whispered. “The stewardess was all over that. She sent me back to my seat before I even got halfway there.”

“I wonder if someone else tried it first,” Gwyn pretended to muse as she gripped the metal railing of the boat. Nesta shrugged.

“It’s probably a shitty place to have sex, anyway.”

Gwyn didn’t respond to that. She’d come on that bathroom sink for the first time in months. It wasn’t that Jonathon was necessarily bad at sex—he knew how to get her off. It was that he was lazy and too often didn’t want to do any of the work that was required in order for her to enjoy herself, too. Sex too often felt like a negotiation, a constant disappointment when he’d come and then promise to make up for it next time.

There were hundreds of little IOUs like that, all disregarded. She gripped the railing tighter, suddenly irritated that Azriel had spent more time trying to get her off without even asking, all in service of a very quick fuck while Jonathon had years.

She pulled her phone out, annoyed to see three missed texts from him.

You’re being immature. Call me, please?

Did you land safely? I’m worried about you. Call me, please.

This is especially low for you, Gwyneth. Call me so I know you’re okay.

He’d been doing it ever since she left, begging and demanding she call. Gwyn knew what happened if she did—he’d immediately reshift the focus back to the breakup so he could argue with her endlessly. Jonathan thought he could logic his way back into their relationship. That she’d merely panicked when he mentioned marriage and he could calm her back down.

It was, frankly, insulting.

They arrived on the most gorgeous island Gwyn had ever seen. Sparkling water lapped against undisturbed white sand and the resort itself had been built to look like the village they’d just come from. Greenery draped over the sprawling sandstone and Gwyn suspected the mosaiced white and blue tile floors were meant to evoke something distinctly Roman.

Eris Vanserra was waiting inside in a breezy white shirt utterly unbuttoned. He watched them step into the lobby with narrowed eyes, his hair an exact match for Lucien’s. The beautiful, tall blonde beside him squealed when she saw Elain and Gwyn assumed that was how Nesta had ended up here without having to pay for it. Elain had pulled major strings—or her husband had. Either way, no one said one word to Eris as he checked them in and passed out room keys.

They were villas, so expensive that when Nesta was told the final price she blanched. Eris said nothing at all, a sunburned arm hanging off his chattering wife. They looked refreshed but Gwyn was looking forward to falling face first onto a mattress and slipping into oblivion.

112

She took her bags from Azriel who offered a tight smile, and made her way back out in the brilliant, sunlit courtyard. A huge marble statue poured water into more blue tile, shaded by lovely trees bearing limes that Gwyn could reach up and grab. She didn’t have hands for it, so instead she rolled her bags over the sidewalk until she reached her door.

Azriel was just behind, frowning as he looked at his key.

“One twelve?” he asked.

Gwyn had to double check. “Yeah. Nesta asked me to swap with Elain and Lucien.”

There were two doors right next to each other, labeled 112A and 112B, but her key just said 112. She pressed it against the sensor and it clicked open. Both her and Az stepped into the dark, air conditioned foyer and understood instantly what Nesta must not have. The “door” connecting their rooms, set against the far left wall, merely opened his bedroom into the kitchen and living room.

“Ah…” Azriel began, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sure Nesta didn’t realize,” Gwyn breathed, heart pounding in her chest. She left her things in the open living room, ignoring that there was a literal hot tub on the balcony they shared overlooking the ocean, for the other bedroom.

The one she’d just walked into was a small double but this was massive, something bigger than a king draped in pretty white linen and framed with a black headboard. It had an attached bathroom with a couples skin and another jetted bathtub.

“I’ll take the other—”

“We’ll share,” he scoffed. “Nesta’s fuck up works in our favor.”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she said, earning a raised eyebrow. “Lucien Vanserra promised a group nap.”

He shrugged off his bag. “As long as you’re in the same bed as me, I don’t care what you do.”

Gwyn swallowed.

How could she argue with that?

AZRIEL:

Gwyn passed out almost immediately on the white and turquoise sheets but for Az, he thought the best way to deal with jetlag was to suffer through the day and sleep at night. Cassian would be at the bar and Rhys too, if they were lucky. Rhys, for all the messing around he did with the youngest Archeron, was also single which meant he and Azriel could get in a little trouble if they wanted.

Inside the main lobby, branching from where they’d checked in, was a bar and a restaurant. Cassian was already waiting in a breezy hawaiian shirt and board shorts while beside him Rhys had opted to go shirtless. It was working for him—a group of women a good decade older than him were eyeing Rhys with interest.

“Took you long enough,” Cassian complained, nodding towards the menu of drinks. Az dropped onto the barstool.

“Fuck up with the room kept me. Nesta gave me and Gwyn the same room.”

“Ah, shit,” was Cassian’s only response. “Want me to talk to her about it? I know she’s stressed—”

“No, don’t bother her. There are enough beds.”

“But does the door lock, or is Gwyn gonna see you fucking constantly?”

Azriel met Rhys’s stare. “It has a locked door.”

Cassian and Rhys nodded, no longer interested in his messed up room. Azriel wasn’t disappointed at all. In fact, as far as he could tell, Nesta had done him a massive favor. He wouldn’t have to explain what he was doing in her villa when he inevitably got caught. Now he could stroll in and out, hair fucked up, dick still wet and no one would think it was strange.

All he wanted to do was fuck her again. He’d been dreaming about it on the plane, had thought of little else on the drive over. Now she was in the bed he very much intended to share with her, face down in a pillow, snoring slightly.

Azriel let Cassian order a margarita for him, refocusing on the conversation. Not everything was about pussy and Azriel was hardly hurting for it. He and Rhys took a drink at the same time, noses wrinkled when that tequila all but smacked them in the face.

��Oh shit,” Rhys grinned. “This tastes like bad decisions.”

“Don’t get shit faced on night one,” Cassian grumbled. “Wait until tomorrow when I can participate.”

“Nesta keeping the leash tight?”

Cassian’s eyes tightened. There was no love lost between Rhys and Nesta—and Cassian would fight about it. Nesta didn’t know but Azriel did given he had sided with Cassian in the ugliest fight the three of them ever had. You didn’t come between a man and his girl and there was nothing wrong with Nesta to start with. Rhys didn’t like she’d let Cassian hang on, but Cassian could have walked away at any point. He wanted to stay.

Just like Rhys was doing with Feyre, though Azriel supposed the irony was lost on him.

“She wants to be together,” Cassian told Rhys, his whole body tense. Waiting for some shitty remark that would fuck this whole thing up. Rhys took another drink.

“Makes sense. Think she’ll be mad if we go to the beach early? Just to see?”

“Probably,” Cassian hedged, one leg sliding to the floor. “But only if she knows, so keep your big fucking mouth shut.”

Both Azriel and Rhys mimed zipping their lips. It was practically old times, trailing after Cassian knowing they were up to no good. A thrill raced through Azriel, even if the thrill was merely not getting caught by Nesta.

Azriel regretted not changing the minute his tennis shoes hit the sand. He scrambled, kicking out of them knowing full well the sand would remain forever, yanked off his shirt, and trailed after Cassian and Rhys into the bath water warm ocean. They were still holding their margaritas, floating in the crystal water beneath a fading afternoon sun.

“This is perfect, I almost don’t even care it was a Vanserra who paid for it,” Cassian groaned, reclining his head just in time for a wave to splash against him.

“Forty fucking thousand dollars,” Rhys said gleefully. “What does Elain have on him?”

“Apparently she introduced him to his wife,” Cassian told them. “And he’s real soft for her. Better his money than mine. I couldn’t afford this shit.”

“Is he going to hang around the whole time?” Azriel asked. Something about the Vanserra’s just rubbed him the wrong way.

“We invited him,” Cassian said ruefully. “It’ll keep Elain and Lucien busy.”

Rhys nodded, eyes wide as if to say thank god.

“I saw them on the balcony.” Cassian cringed, telling them all exactly what had been happening out there. Rhy’s eyes went wide with distaste while Azriel merely shook his head. How embarrassing seemed to be the general consensus, though it would have been a little bit of a lie to say Azriel wasn’t jealous. Maybe a little.

Maybe he envied what they had—what Nesta and Cassian had—more than he was ever willing to admit. He kept swearing he was content with work and his hook-ups but there were nights when the loneliness wore on him. When he wished he could text someone and not immediately get a shot of tits as the response. His friends didn’t get it. Well, maybe Rhys did, at any rate. He had that same faraway look on his face.

No one was right and if they were, they didn’t want him. It had always been that way. Any woman he went after wasn’t interested—Rhysand’s cousin Morrigan (though as it turned out, he wasn’t her type because he wasn’t a woman—and Elain Archeron, not counting a few others afterwards, sporadic people he met who wanted something more, something different, something else.

It was easier to close himself off, to guard himself so carefully no one could get close. It didn’t mean he’d stopped wanting it, it only meant Azriel was too afraid to try. It was on his mind as he plodded back to the room he was now sharing with Gwyn and hoped, if nothing else, she was awake.

Gwyn was both awake and had clearly just showered, if the wafting floral scent curling through the humid air was any indication. Azriel was drenched and knew he likely smelled like salt water and sunlight. Hopefully it wasn’t a bad combination, though he smelled under his arms as he padded into the bedroom, just to be safe.

She was in a pair of tiny blue shorts and a white tank top so tight she might as well be wearing nothing at all. Azriel halted in the doorway, drinking in the long, wet strands of her hair, her freshly washed face and how fucking pretty she was without a stitch of make-up on. Her body was hot, lithe and curved and lean exactly how he liked it. Gwyn’s teal eyes were staring down at her phone, thumbs typing out a furious message.

“Rough day, baby?” he teased, drawing her attention back to him. Gwyn looked over, dropping her phone as she did a double take. He smothered a smile, running a hand down his naked torso.

That was the reaction he was hoping for. He quite liked the naked appreciation on her face.

“Is no one treating you right?”

“Shut up,” she replied, cheeks flushed. “Where have you been?”

He shrugged. “Pool.” He didn’t want her to tell Nesta and get Cassian in trouble.

“I didn’t know the pool was so sandy,” she commented, eyes drifting towards his shins. Azriel was caught, though he said nothing that confirmed or denied her accusation. He merely nodded towards the phone at her feet.

“Who’re you texting?”

Her face darkened. “No one.”

“What did he say?” Azriel wasn’t stupid.

“He just wants to talk,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air with exasperation. “He thinks I’m being irrational.”

“So?” Azriel replied. “What if you were? What would that change?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Then he could address my feelings and we’d get back together.”

He didn't understand. “But…you don’t want to be together.”

“Right.” She was agreeing with him, and yet looking at him like he was the one who didn’t make sense. Azriel frowned, wondering what he was missing.

“That’s a reason.”

“Yes, I agree. He doesn’t.”

Oh. Oh. “That’s fucking stupid,” Azriel declared, earning a smile from Gwyn. Back on track, though, she was still standing too close to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony and now close enough to the bed where he wanted to spread her out.

“Yeah, well, tell him that.”

“Okay,” he agreed, lunging for her phone. Gwyn wasn’t quick enough, fumbling as he snatched it from the floor and opened up the screen of her, Nesta, and Emerie grinning at the camera. The image of her sultry make-up and her slightly smudged lipstick was immediately burned into his brain, traveling down his spine to live in his cock. Jesus Christ she was hot.

He read the wall of text Jonathon sent with a frown and Gwyn curiously let him. Well–Azriel skimmed it.

-Just make it make sense to me, I don’t understand–

-We were happy and then suddenly you changed your mind, tell me what you were thinking–

–Is this about that retreat in SoHo because–

“What happened in SoHo?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask as he invited Jonathon to play a game of 8ball.

“He says another woman kissed him and she says he kissed her,” Gwyn told him, shame coloring her cheeks. “I don’t know why she’d lie about it.”

“What’s he look like?” Azriel demanded, opening her photos and fuck was he accidentally rewarded with a picture of her tits a mere eight squares up. Hidden between the endless memes she had saved, Gwyn had snapped them from a bedroom, knees tucked beneath her body, dressed only in a lacy, strappy red thong.

“Pervert,” she hissed, snatching her phone out of his hand.

“Send that to me,” was all Azriel could think to reply. Why was he talking to her when she was badly needed to be fucked again? Gwyn rolled her eyes, thumb scrolling until she found a picture.

Azriel laughed.

It was a picture of her and another man sitting at a rounded table draped in a white cloth. Clearly at some kind of fancy event, given the sexy, silky green dress all but painted on Gwyn. Her tits were pushed up, her face immaculate. Auburn hair was swept back, her teal eyes tight. Despite her smile, she didn’t look like she was having a ton of fun. Beside her, the reedy, sandy haired brunette had an arm draped around the back of her black chair. He was utterly unremarkable, totally average. Lean and soft, with thin lips and fair skin. His suit seemed ill-fitting and Azriel would have staked his life on Jonathon buying it off the rack. It was complete with a cartoon character printed all over the tie, which made him look goofy as fuck sitting beside the etheral goddess. If Azriel were Jonathon, he’d be miserable too.

“You dated this man?” he scoffed, offering her the phone back. “Was he blackmailing you—”

Gwyn swatted him in the chest. “We met in grad school. He was so interesting back then and I was dealing with the death of my sister…I don’t know. We bonded over late nights and we talked about everything. It changed when he got his PhD and started writing and hanging out with his writer friends…like he was so much smarter and more thoughtful and interesting than the rest of the world. Like what he did mattered and the rest of us were just caught in a rat race. I don’t know. I’m just…I’m tired of hearing endless lectures, I guess.”

“Is that all?” Azriel asked her, both amused and fascinated. C’mon. Tell me something I can work with.

Gwyn, too worked up to realize he was waiting for his moment to pounce, walked across the room to the messy, unmade bed and plopped on the end of it. He was too quick to join her.

“Everything was a negotiation, but in the bad way. There was never consensus and he’d change the rules to suit him but I was always forced to adhere to them or I was unfair. It was chores or whose job was more important or who was more tired or if I got to come when we had sex—”

There it was.

“He wasn’t getting you off?” Azriel asked, zeroing in on that one little fact. Gwyn looked over, realizing how close he was for the first time.

“Uh…no,” she admitted, eyes sliding to his lips.

Good job, baby, he praised silently.

“Tell me,” he murmured, dragging a finger over her bare leg.

“I uh…” she was flushed again. “I need stimulation…”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “Most women do.”

“He didn’t like all the work,” she managed, rushing the words like it embarrassed her to say. “He always talked about his ex who could get off from penetration like I was broken or we could fix it—”

“He didn’t like to eat pussy?” Azriel interrupted, so excited he was practically vibrating. “Is that it?”

She nodded, swallowing hard. Their eyes met.

“I made you a promise,” he reminded her, lips ghosting her own. “Do you remember?”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“I love pussy eating, Gwyn,” he told her, kissing her softly.

“What if I need that every time we have sex?” she asked, clearly testing. Azriel groaned, mostly for theatrics, though the thought was intensely appealing to him.

“Lucky me,” he replied, well aware he could get her off with his fingers if they were in a rush. He’d never forget the airplane, if nothing else, though he was hoping to replace it with a million new memories of fucking her before he sent her on her way.

“Az—” he silenced her with a kiss, tasting his name on her lips. She was minty and still sweet, her mouth so absurdly inviting that the moment he had his tongue behind her teeth, he forgot what he was supposed to be doing. She was such a good kisser and Azriel was so fussy about it. Too much tongue or not enough always ruined things for him, as did smacking lips or kissing so tight it felt like he might as well be kissing his grandma. There was a sweet spot between practically spitting in his mouth—which he wasn’t against if the circumstances called for it—and nothing at all and Gwyn so effortlessly managed it that Azriel reveled, if only a little.

She practically crawled in his lap, running her hands over his torso and too late, Azriel remembered he was supposed to be going down on her. He was tempted to say fuck it and bounce her on his cock instead. Had she not just told him her ex didn’t care if she finished, was so selfish with his pleasure that it factored into not wanting to be with him, had Azriel flipping her to the mattress with ease.

“To the pillows,” he murmured, watching her through half-lidded eyes. Gwyn bit her bottom lip, scooting up. As he considered the sight before him, he added, “Top off, baby.”

And fuck if she didn’t yank it over her head, revealing pretty, bouncy tits. His whole body was tighter than a bowstring. Had he known on the plane he would have damned them both demanding she take it off.

Settle down before you fuck this up, he warned himself. It was impossibly hard—both his ability to remain calm at the sight of her nearly barred body and his own cock bobbing between his legs—and yet Azriel managed to get those tiny shorts off her cute ass and onto the floor in record time.

“Pretty, baby,” he murmured, running a hand over the smooth plain of her stomach.

“What a crime, to have you in bed and not eat you out,” he added as he pushed her thighs apart. That neat patch of hair just above her pussy was taunting him. He lowered himself, keeping his shorts on as an added layer of precaution given the way his cock was practically weeping precum.

He buried his nose in that coarse thatch of hair, running his hands up and down her thighs. She was practically panting with anticipation. He knew it wouldn’t take long, that she’d built this up in her mind and he’d have her shaking and whimpering in five minutes flat.

He reached up for one of her breasts, tweaking and rubbing the rosy nipple as he lowered his mouth. Eyes on her, the entire time, both to ensure she was enjoying herself and because he found it personally gratifying, Azriel licked a stripe up her pussy.

Gwyn shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. He couldn’t have that, was immediately worried she was imagining the nerd she’d been dating before.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he said, letting his breath fan against her body. She immediately looked down at him, her lust so apparent in the teal blue that he had to grind himself against the sheets to keep himself together. He already knew he was going to get on his knees and beg to fuck her when this was all over, and pray she told him yes.

He lost himself in the slick glide of her body, feasting on her pussy like a rabid, wild animal. She tasted good, musky and sweet and so absurdly responsive that every little tug on her nipple or suck of her clit had her moaning and arching. She dragged her fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands when she wanted him to go faster, to stay where he was and Azriel would have done anything she asked if it meant she didn’t stop. Would she like it rough? A hand around her neck, his cock brutally pumping in and out of her until they were both sweaty and out of breath?

He wanted to know. Azriel wanted to know everything Gwyn liked in the bedroom. Every depraved fantasy she had that she’d left unfulfilled, every intimate thing she was too afraid to tell someone.

Her thighs trembled against his cheeks, clenching as her hips arched off the bed. She ground herself into his face, coating him in her release. Just like he’d thought—too fast. He’d teach her, he decided.

I have nothing but time, some shadowy part of his mind whispered, unbidden though not unwanted. He had limited time—two weeks. He’d sworn it just twelve hours earlier.

Gwyn shook those thoughts from his head when she pushed him off her. Taking advantage of his stunned thoughts, Azriel found himself pinned to the bed. Her small hands just barely managed to pin his wrists over his head.

“What—”

She kissed him before he could respond, keeping him pinned in place like something from a dream. Azriel turned his brain off, letting himself enjoy the feeling of her dripping pussy against his stomach and her fingers pushing against his arms. Her tongue chased the taste of her own orgasm, tangling with his own until he was delirious.

“I want to suck your cock,” she whispered—or maybe he was trapped in a too real fantasy. Azriel opened his eyes slowly, trying to force his mouth to work. What did she say?

She wants to suck your cock you dumb motherfucker—

“Please,” he begged, unsure what else he could say. He spread his legs as an invitation and Gwyn—sexy, lovely Gwyn—licked down his torso like every fantasy he’d ever had come to life. He was practically vibrating with need when she reached his aching cock. Gwyn ignored it, a taunting smile gracing her lips as she continued between his legs. Azriel groaned, unable to take his eyes off her. He was going to beg if she kept kissing his thighs like she was, if she didn’t—

She licked the long length of him while he was still trying to form his plea. His hips shot off the bed without meaning to, fingers fisting in the sheets beneath him.

“So jumpy,” she teased. “Are you not being sucked properly, Az?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Was she dirty talking? The best he’d ever gotten was a couple breathy choke me daddy, which while appreciated, had nothing on Gwyn hovering between his legs, holding his cock in her hand while she watched him. Waiting for an answer.

“Let’s find out,” was the only coherent words he could manage. She smirked, as if she had him exactly where she wanted him.

Gwyn licked again, holding his eyes the entire time. He was going to lose his shit if he wasn’t in her throat in the next ten seconds. Azriel was unraveling, coming apart at the seams.

She smiled, lips touching his skin.

“What a crime, to have you in bed and not take the time to properly lick you,” she told him, an echo of his earlier words. “I like how you taste, Az.”

“Gwyn,” he managed, reaching for her hair as she swirled her tongue over the head of his leaking cock. “Baby–”

“Are you going to beg?”

Their eyes met again. He swallowed. “Please,” he rasped.

Her eyes were amused but Azriel didn’t care, not when she sucked half of him into her throat on the very first pass. He was in both heaven and hell with that first slide of her wet, hot mouth. Reborn and made new, Azriel grunted, forcing his hips from fucking her mouth like he so desperately wanted to.

Had he been taunting her in his head, thinking how quickly she’d come? He was no better, practically an untested teen having his first blow job. If someone had sucked him like Gwyn was back then, he would have ended up as a teenage dad, married and with six kids by then.

Gwyn moaned, the sound reverberating through him and Azriel arched his neck, holding onto that bed for dear life. White hot arousal was pooling in his balls, threatening to erupt if he didn’t get his shit together. She was sucking him like her life depended on it, like she lived and died worshiping his cock. She was good at it.

No wonder Jonathon was so desperate to get her back.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, trying to warn her when no amount of clenching could stave off his orgasm. He could feel it barreling through him like a freight train. “Gwyn I’m going to come.”

She was working him with both her mouth and hand, speeding up until he grunted, pushing another inch into her throat without meaning to. Gwyn gagged and yet swallowed everything he offered, the hot pour of come straight into her mouth.

“Come here, come here,” he begged when he was spent, certain she’d take his soul right along with everything else. Azriel kissed her, enjoying the musky taste of her mouth. “Who taught you to suck dick like that?”

“Why?” she asked breathlessly, lips cherry red and swollen.

“So I can thank him,” Azriel replied, kissing her again. She rolled her eyes, stroking up and down his chest.

“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, settling into the crook of his arm. Azriel gazed down at her, sliding strands of hair off her face. He knew, in that moment, what he needed to do with her.

Some people brought home little trinkets from vacation. Something small—a snow globe, a shirt, a hat. Azriel intended to bring her home. The next two weeks were merely his best argument for why she should let him keep seeing her when they landed stateside again.

He wanted her to belong to him.

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel fanfiction #azriel x gwyn #oops i did it again #i made azriel unbearably hot #you know what though #so was gwyn #i apologize for nothing #they were on my mind today

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