#always touching moving dancing climbing or riding horses

[elanormcinerney]

Introduction by Emily Wilson | Homer | The Iliad

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt.4

Summary: In his attempt to get to know his wife, the Darkling realizes he might be getting too close.

Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual innuendoes, slightest bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three   

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Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. Not only did she agonize over the slightest possibility of his words being true, but the lingering of his lips on hers even hours after they’ve left tormented her mind. Instead of sleeping, she sat outside in the darkness with nothing but stars to keep her company. She shuddered with the cold wind as it chilled her, even the kefta didn’t protect her as well as she thought it would.

Sighing, she smiled up at the night sky, watching the stars in their celestial dance. It’s undeniable, she’s envious of them – their freedom is undisputed, their beauty unmatched by anything earthly. No one can force a star to marriage, no one can dull its brightness.

“Are you alright?” Genya spoke up, startling Y/N into a loud gasp.

Turning around, Y/N giggles in slight panic, a hand resting on her chest. “You scared me!”

“I didn’t mean to”, she chuckles too, coming closer to Y/N who let out a relieved sigh, only to look up once again.

“I couldn’t sleep”, she explains, “So I came here to watch the stars.”

“Most people are afraid of the dark”, Genya raised an eyebrow as she fixed her gaze on Y/N instead. She studied her carefully, unsure if she should invest all her hopes and dreams in her – no matter how striking she is.

“Oh, I’m scared of the dark!” Y/N exclaims, pointing up at the sky, “But the night sky is littered with lanterns, meant to guide you home. My mom always told me to look up whenever I feel lost, because the stars will help me find answers to any worry.”

Pursing her lips, Genya frowned, “Does that mean you doubt your plan?”

“No”, Y/N replied with haste, “I am simply trying to understand some of the chess pieces I thought I had figured out.”

Looking back at the Palace, Y/N’s eyes found the window of her room in an instant. A dark figure passed by it, the candlelight revealing the figure is pacing.

“He’s not a bad man, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Holding her breath, Y/N’s eyes find amber ones, “That’s not what I’ve heard. His deeds have spoken plenty about the strength of his character.”

“He’s fighting a war, not just with the outsiders, not just your father, but those on our side as well.” Pausing, Genya steps before her, “Do you know what they call him?”

“The Darkling”, she states, “A starless saint, a demon, a shadow king.”

“So many of those names are meant to demonize him, to shun him from society simply for the power he was born with”, licking her lips, Genya reaches for Y/N’s hand. “His own people are dying simply for who they’re born as – humans, Shu, Druskelle, they’re all sharpening their swords. If he’s not feared, we’re all dead.”

Nibbling on her lower lip, Y/N closed her eyes. Exhaling, she faced Genya once more.

“Does that mean I should applaud him for the way he’s treated the First army so far? How can you defend him when he’s the one who brought you here…to the emperor?”

Retracting her hand, Genya flashed a smile – one too strained to be believable. “He tried to defend me and got himself punished for it. So I’m here and I’m telling you to give him a chance.” Walking past Y/N, Genya stops just a few paces behind her, “He might surprise you.”

All the things Genya said became faint echoes inside Y/N’s head. When she returned to the room, she was ready for a new quarrel with Kirigan. Despite her readiness, he was sound asleep as she slipped her kefta off. With trembling fingers, she lifted the comforter only to stifle a laugh upon a surprising sight. Not only had there been a pillow to separate them, but three to ensure she wouldn’t accidentally roll on his side during the night. Perhaps she did smother him the night before and for once, she didn’t feel ashamed, rather satisfied. If he’s so insistent on sharing a bed, why would she make it any easier on him?

Tossing the pillows aside, she slid onto his side. Pressing her lips in a thin line, she tried to wrap an arm around his middle, but she couldn’t do it with her heart clenching wildly inside her chest. She drew back, forming tight fists at her side as she glared up at the canopy in frustration. If she’s going to play well and win, she’ll have to swallow her pride and withstand some discomfort.

Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N held her breath as she half climbed atop of Kirigan. Waiting to see if he’ll wake, Y/N finally released a shuddered breath. Burying her nose in the crook of his neck, she finally felt herself warm up after being outside for so long.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled his scent – woodsy and clean as if he had just had a bath. She never realized it before, but he smelled the same way on their wedding day…and night. But also earlier when he was pressed against her, devouring her mouth. Just the thought of his arms around her, his tall frame against her and the feverish kiss they’ve shared had caused her heartbeat to quicken with no shame.

And while she drifted off, she failed to realize something else – the Darkling was very much awake.

Instead of moving away when he felt a weight atop of him, he struggled to even his breathing. She smelled like spring, like lilacs and oddly enough, he enjoyed it. Most times, he’d crinkle his nose in disgust for strong, flowery scents made him nauseous, but she didn’t have the heavy, unbearably thick air of perfume cling to her – it felt like it’s her natural scent.

Smiling, the Darkling allowed himself to relax once her breathing calmed down and while her hands and feet felt like icicles, her cold nose brought most of the discomfort. Once she warmed up, by stealing his body heat, the Darkling began to drift away too. After all, he was winning.

A single ray of sunshine came through the window, its heat tickling Y/N’s nose. Sleepily, she brushed at it then tried to turn away, but something blocked her way. She lazily opened her eyes and saw the strange bed canopy overhead. When she remembered where she was and how she fell asleep last night, she felt her face grow hot as blood rushed to her cheeks. Even her body seemed to blush. She moved her head toward the other side of the bed and looked at where her husband’s supposed to be, yet he was gone – only the pillows she could have sworn she removed remained.

There was no way of knowing it, but each morning, the Darkling opened his eyes and looked at her first. No matter if she was drooling or her hair matted on her face, he quite enjoyed his view. She seemed gentle, almost like a saint sent to remind him light can exist along with darkness he’s been shrouded in.

Disgruntled, she sat up and huffed. She wanted to wake up at the same time as he did. One, she wanted to see his reaction and laugh, two, she really wanted to discuss the kiss from before. Then again, she just wanted to see the general at his most vulnerable state – waking up disheveled, just like any human would. His perfectly styled hair unnerved her and she couldn’t help but wonder if Genya used her power on it because she had never once seen a hair out of place, not even after their kiss.

For the rest of the day, Y/N tried to catch him alone. Unfortunately, she barely saw her husband at all. A fleeting glance of acknowledgement was all she received as they passed each other in the hall, both surrounded by others.

At night, she laid awake in hopes of speaking to him before bed. The faint candlelight on the bedside table kept the darkness away, relieving her fear. Would he laugh at her if she admitted to it? After all, isn’t he the one who can create darkness out of thin air? Perhaps he’d shroud her with it and prove he truly is cruel, but she had no way of being sure. He must never know of it and she truly hoped never to see his display of power.

Lost in her thoughts, she blinked and it was morning.

Wide eyed, she sat up and looked to his side. It was unmade, the pillow dented right where his head was and yet she can’t remember hearing him arrive in the night or leave in the morning. She never does.

“Fuck”, she mutters under her breath as she slams a fist in his pillow. Grunting, she buries her face into it, muffling her frustrated scream.

“Are you done?” Genya frowned at her, waiting by the door while Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs into a pillow.

“YOU’VE GOT TO STOP SNEAKING UP ON ME!”

Scoffing, Genya rolled her eyes. “You need to be more perceptive about your surroundings.”

A knock on the door had startled them both, enough for them to both let out a strangled scream. The door opened before either of them gave the permission and once they realized who it was that entered, they didn’t need a reason as to why.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The Darkling grinned at his wife who narrowed her eyes at him immediately.

“Your voice gives me a headache”, Y/N complains.

Squinting at her, the Darkling wondered if a woman could be so infuriating without wielding some mystic power to make her so.

“I believe you agreed to ride with me.”

“Oh”, Genya smirks, “She’ll ride you –“, covering her mouth, Genya giggles as she sees Y/N’s glare is on her, “I meant, with you.”

“I’ve prepared the horses”, he waited for her to respond, to give him reason to dislike her yet she didn’t.

“I will keep my word”, Y/N stood with her formidable gaze on his. She dared not look at his lips for they brought memories and self-loathing she’d rather avoid. After all, what kind of a woman quivers for her enemies touch?

“Wonderful”, he smirks, “I’ll wait for you to dress.”

Remaining in his spot, his hands at his sides, Kirigan raised his eyebrows as both women stared at him.

“Get out”, Y/N waves him off and he clicks his tongue.

“You may not let me touch you, but I can look.”

Angry, she narrowed her eyes at him, “That didn’t stop you from pinning me to a door.”

Genya’s eyes widen, pressing her lips to stop herself from commenting on their little exchange.

Shrugging, he stepped closer. His eyes raked over her body, the nightgown leaving little to imagination. “You didn’t seem to protest”, he leans in, “Especially since you proved you could easily escape me.”

Swallowing thickly, she exhaled through her nose. She couldn’t argue with that, now could she? If she wished, she could have forced him to unhand her. She could have fought him, but she didn’t. She may have been startled when he kissed her but she barely tried to push him away and still, when she had the option to back away, she was the one leaning in for a kiss when he lifted her onto the table. He played a game with her and she lost that day and now he gets to be smug about it.

“As your husband, I promise to protect you from all others. If anyone harms you, they’ll part with their life. For that alone, I deserve an occasional view.”

Winking, he takes a step back and sends a smile in Genya’s direction before turning on his heel and walking out.

“YOU KISSED HIM?!”

Groaning, Y/N throws her head back, “Sort of. It’s more like he kissed me and I didn’t fight him on it.”

“So, does this mean you like him?” Wiggling her eyebrows, Genya squealed in excitement. “Are you bringing him on this plan of yours?”

Holding out her hand, Y/N shook her head, “No, no and no. I don’t trust him one bit and he isn’t exactly a man who’d go along with it.” Exhaling loudly, Y/N decided, “He must be removed along with the emperor.”

When she walked outside, Y/N breath was caught in her throat. The sight of the general on a horse truly felt like a fabrication. Never had she seen a man as majestic as him, as proud and aggravatingly cocky all at once. With his black kefta and the cape, he rode on a black stallion as if he were a mere extension of his will.

She wasted no more time in mounting her white mare, chasing after the Darkling who seemed to only then notice he’s not alone.

Her horse was not above average size, but she was alert and slender-limbed. Her muscles and good nature allowed Y/N to keep up a fairly good pace, never too far behind the black stallion her husband rode. The stallion was clearly riled up, competitive by nature. Anyone else on its back would be a great danger for the rider, but he clearly trusted Kirigan.

The wind blew her hair back and the cold was rather unforgiving on her skin. Passing him narrowly once they entered the woods, she didn’t look back. Instead, she gripped the reigns tighter and continued to breathe as the cold air made her mouth dry and throat scratchy.

Feeling his gaze on her, she relents, looking back at him.

“Where’s your coat?!” He shouted after her and only then did she realize it must have fallen off. Genya made it pretty for a romantic ride, not quite as practical for a race. But that’s not what truly made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. The hint of worry laced in the words of an angry general is what betrayed him and she couldn’t help but wonder – what if it’s more than just lust for him?

“It was slowing me down”, she couldn’t suppress a victorious smile just as he couldn’t suppress an annoyed grunt. Yet they both slowed down, neither of them speaking as they turned around and headed straight to the palace.

“You’re an avid rider.” The general conceded as he dismounted. Before she could blink, he was beside her, his hands on her hips as he pulled her of the horse and effectively stole her breath away.

The rosy colored cheeks left him defenseless as he stared at her too, a little too intently for it to be innocent. Taking her hands in his, he brought them up to his mouth, blowing at them. She kept her gaze at him, undoubtedly in shock as her cold hands started to tingle with the warmth of his breath.

“I’ll have to leave for a few days”, he speaks before she has a chance. “You’ll have the bed all to yourself.”

“Don’t I have to come? If it concerns my peo –“, she began, but he silenced her.

“It’s got nothing to do with the army. I’m merely doing an errand for the emperor.”

Looking at her hands still in his, she pursed her lips. “Doesn’t he have enough servants to do his bidding?”

A breathless chuckle escapes him, “Why? Will you miss me?”

Rolling her eyes, she snorts, “Why? Do you fancy yourself as someone of importance?”

He looked at her like she's the Sun, angrily squinting at every second she spent in his presence. He never looked at her other than in frustration. At least she thought so. It’s how he looked at her a month ago when they first met on a field stained with Druskelle blood. He stood there, alone and victorious as she stepped over the bodies after arriving on this side of the fold with a Sandskiff.

All of their conversations were arguments – she’d narrow her eyes and he’s squint at her, throwing jabs at each other every chance they get, but this felt different. Something changed after the wedding and she wasn’t entirely sure what.

Achingly aware of their closeness, she couldn’t help but ask. "What is this between us?"

Pausing, he looked at her with wonder. If he could put it to words, it wouldn’t make any sense. His mind could hardly fathom what exactly she meant to him other than being a nuisance, but he didn’t exactly hate her as he believed at first when he admittedly hoped she’d find herself eaten by Volcra while crossing the Shadow fold. What he hated was not having a choice. He hated how arrogant she is and how little respect she has for her superiors. He especially hated her mortality, her species and all the atrocities they’ve committed against him and his kind.

He didn’t love her, that he was sure of. He couldn’t possibly care for her either. Lust, winning this game, feeding his ego by having Zlatan’s daughter at his feet is what he longed for. So no, he didn’t love her, but a part of him feared he might love her in time. For the first time in a very, very long time, the Darkling had a fear and it carried her name.

Perhaps that’s why he reacted the way he did when she asked him if there is something between them.

"Nothing." He grabbed the back of her neck, his lips pressing against hers hard.

He was right, she realized. There was nothing between them, nothing between their lips, not even air.

Pulling away, he smirks as she inhales sharply.

"Did you feel a connection?" He looks her in the eye, his lips set in a firm line.

"Yes", she whispers shakily.

His eyes harden as an ache in his chest reminds him of his fear. Someone like him must give up anything he could possibly love for the loss and disappointment are inevitable. She’s mortal, an enemy behind his borders he can never trust. So he will shut his heart out. Love is not an option for the Darkling, he reminds himself. The last time he allowed himself to love was also the day his heart turned to stone. So, he will not love her and she will not love him. He will destroy that possibility, cut any ties that bind them. Lust is the only thing he will let fester.

Leaning in, his lips brush hers softly as he whispers against them, "That's why you're a fool." Stepping back, he heard her gulp. “The connection you feel is lust, that’s all we have and it’s all we will ever have. Accept it.”

“Is that true or are you just afraid?!” Her voice wavers and she instinctively steps toward him, asserting dominance she felt was lost.

“General”, Ivan calls out, just in case Kirigan needed an excuse to leave.

“Afraid?” The Darkling chuckles dryly, averting his gaze to Ivan who waited for him at the entrance. “I’m not afraid of anything”, he remarks as his eyes lock on her lips again, “Certainly not of my wife.”

As he stepped back, the Darkling caught the strangest look in her eyes. It looked like clarity, total and complete sobriety from the ecstasy his presence gave her. She stood proud, despite the self-loathing in her previously warm eyes that slowly turned them back to the ice she held when she first laid her eyes on him.

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Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart​

Part 5  

[donutloverxo]

First night

This is for nastybuckybarnes' au challenge. I hope you like it babe.

Run through - You're nervous to consummate your marriage with your new husband.

Warnings - medieval au, smut, heavy dub con, innocent/inexpericened reader, loss of virginity, light breeding kink. Read responsibly.

Pairing - King!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - almost 3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You bit your lip getting up from the bed, thinking of maybe pacing around the chambers to help your restlessness. You looked at the pot of red wine right next to the fruit basket. You could have one, that would help with your nerves. But you were afraid you wouldn’t handle the alcohol well and make a fool of yourself in front of the king.

You looked at the crisp white cloth laid on the bed. Maybe you should lay down? That’s what your mother had told you.

“Just lay down and let your king do the job. Don’t move for a while after it’s done, or you won’t be able to conceive. If it hurts too much just think of something else”

Her words didn’t make things easier for you. But then you had heard good things about it from your friends. You really didn’t know what to believe. You hoped that you would meet a boy, fall in love and get married. Perhaps knowing a person helps with the coupling? Not that you need to know Steven anymore than you already do. He is your husband now. He could do whatever he wants with you.

When you were told you were to be married to him. You were as scared as you were happy. You didn’t know the first thing about marriage or men. But you had heard of king Stevens bravery and kindness, along with tales of his ethereal beauty. They said that he was carved out by gods themselves. You fell in love as soon as you saw his portrait. His rugged jaw covered with a thick beard, his long locks sweeped back, his broad shoulders and alert stance, akin to that of a soilder.

You couldn’t believe you were to be the queen. Being the youngest of three sisters you would never have had such an opportunity. But both your older sisters were married off. One to a prestigious Lord and another to a king of a small kingdom. You did feel a tinge of pride when they were so jealous of you. Of the power you were to have as a queen and of your beautiful and brave future husband.

Power. Something that scared you the most. Sure being a queen was glamourous. But what if you let your new kingdom and people down. What if you let your king down?

You had never met him before the wedding. When your face was unveiled, and you looked at his face and him up close you were taken aback. Of just how much more handsome he looked in reality. That portrait did him no justice.

You couldn’t tell if he found you satisfactory at all. His face was set in an unreadable expression. Was he pleased or disappointed with you? He barely spoke two words to you the entire ceremony and feast. You cringed as you recalled your first dance. How even after so many lessons you kept stepping on his feet, while he kept moving gracefully. You imagined him moving with the same grace on the battlefield.

You wanted to please him. To be enough for him. You knew men seeked pleasure from other women if they found their wives unsatisfactory. You didn’t think you could stand it if he did something like that. In a moment of desperation you asked your newly assigned handmaiden for some help on how to please a man. She, of course was embarrassed and refused to give you a clear answer. They would probably gossip about you now. No. You can’t think about that. Not right now.

You straightened your back to sit up straight as you heard the doors being opened. You let out the breathe you didn’t even know you were holding as you looked at him. With his white shirt, which gave you a generous view of his chest and the thin hair splattered over it and his dark pants, he looked much different without his informal attire. He stared you down but didn’t really acknowledged your presence as he made his way over to the wine.

Before he could pour a glass you quickly made your way over to him, fetching the glass from the table. “Allow me, my king” you gave him a nervous smile. It was probably a bad idea since you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking. You cringed as you splashed a few drops out of the glass.

He only shook his head making a sound of disapproval, grabbing the pot from you he poured the glass full handing it to you. “You might need it more than me”

“Oh well... thank you...” You took it from him. Too scared to refuse him. To tell him you absolutely hated the foul taste of wine. You tried your best to keep a straight face as you swallowed the liquid. You chugged the glass down setting it on the table. You could feel it taking effect in your limbs as you felt your whole body loosen up.

“Have you been with other men before?” he asked walking over to the bed.

You were floored by his question. They had sent a doctor to make sure you had never been touched before. Which you weren’t. He knew the answer. But then why was he asking. “I won’t dignify that with an answer” You huffed. He was getting some kind of sick pleasure from your humiliation. You wouldn’t have him make fun of you.

“Oh?” He smirked in amusement at your boldness. He felt his cock stir in his pants at your defiance. A stark contrast to what he perceived you as.

He never really cared much for marriage. Always thinking that he would find the right woman along the way. Sure he indulged in some courtesans here and there but he held back. Not wanting any bastard children. He knew how doomed their fate was just like his half brother James.

He wished for a strong woman, capable and worthy of being a queen. But he learned that you didn’t even know how to ride a horse. You were nothing more than a spoilt sheltered princess. But he agreed to the marriage, for his kingdom and his duty.

He could make it work. As long as you give him a few sons the marriage wouldn’t be an utter failure. He could learn to bear you or even care for you a bit.

But then he looked at you face, your hair and gown all made up, you were the prettiest bride he had ever seen. His bride. He couldn’t help but be proud you were going to be his.

And now that he could see you and your plump figure through the thin petticoat, he couldn’t wait to tear it off and to find out if you were just as curvy underneath. “Come here” He smirked as you instantly followed standing in front of him, your fingers fidgeting with your gown. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he knew you hadn’t. But he needed to hear it from you. He would be proud to be your first in everything.

You shook your head staring at the floor. You looked so small and helpless in front of him. It was a dilemma. Because it made him protective of you but at the same time want to do devious things to you. He thought about how he could take you. Of course he’d get to have you every way and anyway he wanted, you were his wife and his future queen, but he needed the first time to be memorable. “What was that?”

“No. I haven’t, your grace” You spat almost spitefully.

He chuckled at that, staring at your lips, he bent down to capture them and have a taste. He felt you go stiff when his lips touched yours, as soft as rose petals and oh so sweet. You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you into him by pulling at your waist. He threw you on the bed, over the white sheet.

You stayed there panting, your kiss swollen lips, your nipples that turned into stiff peaks he groaned just at the sight of them. You were looking at him as if you were afraid of him, maybe you should be. He climbed onto the bed and settled between your legs. He pushed the helm of your petticoat up until it revealed your smooth soft legs and thick thighs to him.

“Oh! Wha –“ you stammered as he nipped at the inside of your thigh, slowing moving towards your core. He could smell your arousal. He couldn’t wait to dig his face in it and taste it. Find out if it was as sweet as you were. He wasn’t a patient man but for now he would wait. You were a fine woman. One who should be enjoyed at the fullest. So he would take his time, even if his cock was aching to be inside you.

He was trying to get the gown off of you with no help from you it was turning out to be quite a task. Fuck it to being patient. He tore the collar of your gown, ripping the whole thing off. He quickly threw the shred of cloth away and tossed it away.

He stared you down. You were sniffling as tears of shame escaped your eyes, your hands pathetically trying to cover your chest. You made yourself small trying to curl in on yourself ,but with him sitting between your legs, didn’t leave you much room to move.

He took your wrists in his hands pushing them down besides your head and he bend down to lick the salty tear off your cheek. He pressed a small kiss to your cheek before squeezing your wrists. “Keep them here. I’m your husband, you don’t hide from me” He stated as he pulled back up to admire your nude body. You gulped down as you moved your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him, but you didn’t dare move your hands or cover yourself.

He pressed a thumb over your hard nipple pulling on the nub as you gasped and tried so hard to contain those your moans, but he heard them. He licked the peak before sucking it into his mouth placing soft kisses over your breasts as you kept whining and shivering under him.

He kissed down your stomach finally looking at your heat between your legs. He had never been as awestruck as he was in that moment. He took in a deep breathe to get a whiff of your arousal.

“My king?” you hesitated sitting up on your elbows looking down at him between your legs “ what are you doing?” you panicked. Surely he wouldn’t.... “Oh!” You cried out loud as you felt him lick a stripe up your folds. You sat up pushing at his head “This isn’t how it’s done” you tried to argue. Although you weren’t sure, no one told you about this. What was he even doing?

You fell back on the mattress as he pushed his palm down on your chest “Stay” He commanded. You had no choice but to lay back. You stared at the rose garlands painted on the ceiling, trying to distract yourself, as he licked and sucked at you. You really did try to hold in the noises your body was so desperate to let out. But you couldn’t not when you were feeling so strange yet so good.

You whimpered as he wrapped his mouth around your bundle of nerves sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue over it. Maybe he was doing it to make you feel good but it felt more like a sweet torture. You felt as if you were on the edge of something about to crash and burn. But then, your world came to a screeching halt as you felt him push a finger into your channel. You clenched around the alien object, the invasion felt so strange you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Fuck you’re tight” you would’ve been upset at his foul language and his use of the forbidden word but what he was doing was much more sinful than that. You couldn’t think of anything but his mouth and his tongue on you, his finger inside you. You moaned as he pushed another finger inside you pulling them out only to quickly push them back in. “Don’t know how I will last” He groaned curling his long digits inside you as you screamed at the top of your longs.

It was as if everything came crashing down on you. The feeling was incomparable. Unlike anything you had ever felt before. Your skin was on fire as your muscles spasmed.

You could vaguely hear him undress as you looked at him through your hooded eyes. His pupils blown wide, his cock standing up straight against his hard stomach. You could see the faint scars littered across his body, proof of his many battles.

You were expecting him to do the deed, make love to you and truly make you his wife. But he pulled you up to sit on your bum, your eyes staring straight at his cock. “You gonna return the favor princess?” He asked his voice was much deeper and his tone more gruff. “Taste it” He said pushing the head of his cock against your lips.

You weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to do. So you simply opened your mouth as he pushed himself in. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat, your spit dripping down your chin. He tasted salty and musky. You felt as if you’d cry again, of being naked and in such a compromising position. All the while he was so composed and graceful.

He held onto your face pulling his cock out of your mouth but before you could breathe out in relief he slammed back in again. You couldn’t fit all of him, he was too big. He thrusted a few times before pulling out of your mouth completely. You coughed and gasped for air, cleaning up his spend and your spit with the back of your hand.

“Can’t cum in your mouth” He groaned pushing you to lay down he hovered above you. You felt him rub his tip against your folds.

“Wh – what if it doesn’t fit?” you asked nervous again. You had never seen a naked man before, but he looked big. At least right now, he was looking at your face instead of your naked body.

“Just loosen up” You followed his advice as you held onto his thick arms. You winced in pain as you felt the pinch of him entering your weeping channel. You moved your head away biting your lip to contain your screams.

“Look at me” he demanded grabbing your chin “look at your king” You reluctantly opened your eyes staring at him. He was so beautiful. You couldn’t help but run your fingers through his thick beard, just a shade darker than his golden blonde hair. You wailed throwing your head back as he pushed into you completely seething himself.

“Shh” he hushed you as he snaked a hand between your bodies striking your clit to distract you. “It’ll feel better soon” He promised. As he let you get accustomed to his length. The fact that he was much larger than most men and that you were a virgin wasn’t lost on him. He would have to restrain himself. Which seemed impossible at the moment. Your walls so snug and tight, clenching around him, he would cum right this second.

He pulled out of you before slowly pushing himself back in. He set a steady pace as your cries slowly turned into moans. You clawed at his back, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He was only spurred on by your little mewls and hot puffs of air against his ear.

You cried out again thrashing and squirming under him another wave of pleasure crashing into you. He grunts as he felt you clench around him, milking him for all he’s worth. He snapped his hips against yours a couple of times cuming deep in your womb.

He laid on top of you, catching his breathe. He pulled the white sheet from under you and used it to clean you between your legs. You jerked as the cloth touched your sensitive skin. He cleaned his cock and went outside his chambers to hang the sheets up.

When he returned you were about to get up and put on whatever you could salvage out of your torn nightgown. “Lay back down” He demanded fed up “you have to give me a son” he reminded you pushing you into the mattress. Just how many times would he have to tell you before you would understand. He’ll have to work on a way to make you listen. That’s alright though, he had all the time in the world.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you wanna join the taglist lemme know or click on the link in the bio. divider by @writeyourmindaway

Ima go soak in holy water for like ten hours to wash off these sins🥵🥵 this is as dark as I'm gonna go lol. Who knows maybe there will be a part two 👀

[hockeywhhores]

arrangements- q. hughes

Quinn Hughes x f!Reader

warnings~ smut, alcohol, male receiving, vaginal sex twice, swearing 

summary~ You and Quinn had an arrangement, put in one night everything fell apart. 

genre~ smut, friends with benefits to lovers

word count~ 2.7k 

masterlist

This is NSFW please do not read if it makes you uncomfortable. 

Jake Virtian was your best friend growing up, and that is how you ended up best friends with the whole Canucks roster, especially Quinn Hughes. Quinn and you just clicked. Within days of meeting you, he was smitten. You grabbed his attention, and would not let it go.

One night you both got way to drunk, and things ended up with you two together in Quinn’s bedroom. After that incident, you both agreed to be friends with benefits. You enjoyed the sex, and he enjoyed having you around. Even if this wasn’t how he had planned to get you, it would have to work for now. Quinn had even invited you to come back to Orlando with him, during the offseason. You had said no, not wanting to intrude on his family time, but he insisted. You both left it maybe. The offseason is coming in two weeks, so he gave you time to think about it.

Wanting to forget about college, and getting a job, you asked the guys if they wanted to go out. Quinn always said yes, and then most of the other guys agreed to a night out. You picked the bar, and everyone agreed to meet there. Before you had finished getting ready, Quinn had called you.

“Hey!” you said as you put your phone on speaker, so you could finish with your hair.

“Hey y/n! I was wondering if you wanted me to pick you up tonight?” Quinn asked, sounding unsure of himself.

“Sure! that would be great! You don’t even know how many Ubers i’ve called this week!” You exaggerated.

“Perfect pick you up in twenty minutes.” He ended the call quickly after you both said your ‘goodbyes’ and you went back to curling your hair. finishing with minutes to spare you did a little bit of pregaming with some random alcohol you found in your apartment. When you heard a knock on your door, you were surprised to say the least. Quinn usually just texted you when he was here. You shrugged it off, and answered the door. There was Quinn a little early, and standing in your doorway. He was holding a bottle of vodka, and when he saw you he held it up higher for you to see.

“I brought you something to pregame with,” He explained, “I was going to pregame with you, but I realized that I stupidly told you I would drive.” He finished with a little smile, and you couldn’t help a laugh a little at how forgetful he was.

“Oh, I already drink some tequila, but I will be perfectly happy taking that beautiful bottle of vodka off your hands.” You were playing with him, but weren’t surprised when he handed you the bottle. You set it on the kitchen table, and left for his car.

The car ride was perfectly fine, with you and Quinn never missing a beat while you talked. You told him all about how you were needing to start internering, but your school work load was so big, that you didn’t know when you were going to be able to level time in between them. He told you about how he was stressed out with hockey, and just wanted to go home for the offseason, and take a small break from hockey. Quinn’s left hand never left your upper thigh, and your hand never left from its place; resting on top of his. Nothing ever felt awkward between the two of you. You swear if anyone asked you, you would say you had gotten closer to Quinn than you were with Jake, and that was really saying something.

When you pulled up to the club, you jumped out of the car. You couldn’t wait to see all the guys before they left for their last away game stretch. They were going to be all the way in Montreal playing the Candians. You were sad to see them go, but you knew that that was their jobs. Shaking everything off, you entered the club with Quinn by your side. Everyone that was already there greeted you right as you set through the doors. You waved to everyone, but went to the bar before you went to sit down with them. You didn’t know that Quinn had followed you, until after you finished ordering your drink and was planning on opening a tab, but then you felt his arm lightly touch the back of your upper arm and saw him slide his card to the bartender.

“You can put all her drinks on my tab.” Quinn told the guy. the guy nodded and started to get to work with making your drink.

“Quinn! You didn't have to do that!” You protested. Quinn just looked at you as if he was bored, and not wanting to engage in this debate. Quinn bought you a lot of things, he always put up the argument, that he was a hockey player, and he wanted to help you while you go through college. You just wanted to prove that you could pay for yourself, but telling him this was like beating a dead horse. The bartender gave you your drink, and Quinn a beer, you knew he was just going to nurse it all night. you and Quinn walked over to the table of hockey players and their wifes/girlfriends. You were happy just sitting at the table in between Quinn and Brock, but when one of your favorite dance songs came on; you just had to get on the dance floor.

“Oh my god, I love this song! Someone come dance with!” You exclaimed as you jumped out of your seat. You looked back and noticed no one had followed you.

“Ok losers…” you frowned at them, “Quinn please come dance with me!” you gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and lightly tugged on his arm. He huffed but came with you to the dance floor.

“Thank you!” You smiled brightly at him as you started swaying your hips to the beat. Quinn awkwardly dances with you. He did not know where to put his hands, or even how to move his body. You giggled at him, and grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. Then you gently hand him rock side to side with you. He was still stiff and looked like he was doing something wrong.

You smiled in reassurance, “You are doing great, Romeo” you whispered into his ear.

“I’m sorry, but you know I hate dancing.” Quinn huffed back into your ear. “But did I tell you how good you look tonight.” You did look good in your short black dress, and perfectly styled makeup and hair.

“Oh stop.” You were blushing, “But to answer your question, no you did not.” the blush was still there but you tried to hide it with a confident-ish smirk.

“My bad then. What kind of gentleman am I? Can’t even remember to tell the prettiest girl I have ever seen, how beautiful she looks.” He was messing with you, but that didn’t stop your blush from growing.

“Want to go back to your car?” you asked after a couple songs have ended. You were surprised when Quinn didn’t leave after the song you originally wanted to dance to was over.

“You have your things?” He quested you, looking deep into your eyes.

“Yes, why?” you looked back into his eyes. He knew you saw the hungriness he had for you in his eyes, and he even saw the same in your eyes.

“Because when I’m finished with you, you are not going to be able to come back in here.” he spelt out for you.

“Oh, well do you think if anyone would notice if we just left?” now it's your turn to question him.

“Not if we're careful.” Quinn quiered. Looking back at the table you noticed some have already left, and the ones that were still there were all wrapped up in their own conversations.

“I think we are in the clear.” you testified. Quinn took your hand and you both rushed out of the club and to his black car. He quickly got into the driver's seat, while you got into the passenger’s seat. Without telling you where he was driving to, he started the car and left the parking lot. You ended up in a dark street that was far enough away from everything. Quickly both of you unbuckled your seat belts, and you were strpped your dress off, and took off your shoes. Quinn climbed into the backseat, and you went after him.

“Everything off, baby girl.” he reminded you.

“I just thought you would like to do the honors.” you joked, and before you knew it your bra was in his lap.

“consider me honored,” Quinn joked back. You quickly got to work unbuttoning his pants, and pulled them down to his knees. Before going any further with undressing him you gave his growing erection a soft, little kiss. Quinn let out a strong huff of air.

“Don’t play with me.” he warned. You responded by pulling down his boxers, and grabbing his now fully-erect penis with your small hands. Pumping it up and down, while you sucked on the tip. He was a sighing mess, you knew you weren’t giving him fully what he wanted. Quinn applied some pressure down on the top of your head, in a warning type of way. You pushed him into your mouth as far as you could take him, pumping everything you couldn’t fit. As you looked up into his eyes, you saw that he was already looking at you with hooded eyes. With one hand you messaged his balls, while your other hand was pumping the bit you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He had made a makeshift ponytail with his hand, trying to see as much of you as he could. You continued like this for a couple of minutes, until you felt sticky ropes of cum cover your mouth. You set back up, and whipped your lips, while staring at him in the eyes.

Quinn kissed you deeply, and pasionalty. You knew he could taste himself on your mouth, but he didn’t care. He accidentally ripped your underwear, while trying to get it off of you as fast as he could. No one cared. Both of you know if you asked from him to buy you new ones, you would get several new pairs in return. The car was getting steamy, but you didn;t care. Climbing on top of Quinn, you sat down on top of his already reerected dick. He slid in easily, with how wet you were. His shirt buttons there undid proved the perfect amount of room for you hand to feel his chest up, and down. Quinn helped guide your hips, helping set a pace you were both happy with. Everything was overriding your brain, and you only seemed to know his name; chanting it as if it was a prayer. All that you could hear was his panting, your moans, and skin slapping skin. When you felt his pace slow, and his thrust get sloppy, you knew he was close. you were too. You matched your hips to his, and came with him. You didn’t get off of him, until you stopped feeling aftershocks from your orgasm. Quinn happily let you stay connected with him. Both of your faces were plastered with dumb- looking smiles.

Needing his help you got off of him, and used your ripped pantys to clean yourself up a bit. Sitting back next to him in his backseat, made you feel happy. You don’t know if it was the orgasm or you genuinely liked him, but you felt like you were on cloud nine. Quinn buttoned up his pants, and helped you get your dress on, before he helped you get back into the front seat, so he could take you home.

When you were safely in you apartment you asked him something you never had before, “Do you want to stay?” your eyes looked tired, but your body felt too wired to sleep.

“Sure, If you want me too.” Quinn tried to seem as nonchalant as he could. He did not need you knowing about how he has always wanted you to ask him this.

“There is a pair of your sweat pants in the top drawer. I am going to clean myself up.” you said as you walked to your bathroom. Quinn made his way to your bedroom, and looked into your draw. There was a pair of his gray sweatpants that he had lent to you, after your pants had ripped. He knew he had been in your bedroom before, but  whenever he had there were more pressing matters to deal with. So while you were in the bathroom he took the time to look around your room. Your bed was in the far corner, and there were pictures of you and the team. One picture was of you and Quinn when he had scored, in overtime,  after a tough game. The other pictures were of you and Jake, or your family.

When you came back from the bathroom you found Quinn already changed into his sweatpants, and was laying in your bed. He playfully whistled when you started changing, and you just sent him a playful glare. He held up the blanket as you climbed into your bed, and you noticed he decided to go without a shirt.

“Wow aren’t I one lucky girl.” you teased him as you ran your hand up and down his bare chest.

“You know I like to think of myself as one lucky guy. I mean I have the cutest girl feeling me up right now!” Quinn laughed into your ear and then kissed your cheek. You don’t why but all of this just felt right. Having him here in your bed, felt like it was always supposed to happen. You talked  about everything under the sun as you cuddled. his hand was rubbing, soft, light-feathered circles on your back. You felt so loved. No one has ever made you feel the way Quinn does.

“Quinn?” you whispered into the darkness.

“Yes darling?” he answered back.

“I love you.” you professed. You felt his breathing and hand falter. At that moment you were sure that you stopped breathing as well. The world even felt as if it had stopped spinning.

“I love you too.” Quinn whispered as if you would break if he talked louder than that.  

“I have since I met you.”  He confessed as he looked down at you. You could barely see him in the dark, but you shot yourself up to give him a kiss. The kiss was passionate, not the passionate like when you were just fucking around, but passionate in the way that told you how much he loved you.

You reached down and pulled his sweatpants down, he wasn’t wearing any boxers. Quinn pushed your shorts, along with your panties, to the ground. You managed to get everything off your legs. Before pushing you down onto the bed, you discarded your shirt. When you both were completely nude Quinn took charge. With him holding your arms on top of your head, he ground his hips into yours. Then when he felt you were wet enough he slipped his hard, throbbing dick into you. Quinn took his time, pushing in and out of you. You were a moaning mess. Nothing was fast about this. It was all slow and loving. Hidden emotions were coming out. Hidden emotions of love and pining. Quinn and you come together.

After Quinn got out of bed he came back with a damp rag, and gently cleaned you up. Crawling back into bed with you he never let go of your hands. You both slept with a new sense of purpose. And when you woke up the next morning you told him how much you would love to go back to Orlando and stay with him and his family. You fell in love with Quinn Hughes and wasn’t going to let him go anytime soon.

finished.

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Lazy Mornings - 4

Lazy Mornings:  A Captain America Fanfic

Lazy Mornings Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  1958

Warnings: smut (MF, Oral sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers has trouble taking time for himself.  When his friends set him up with a person with a very unusual skill, perhaps he can learn that the quiet moments are just as important as everything else.

Chapter 4

Once Steve let go and just let himself get to know you, he actually started to like you.  Not just because being around you opened him up to a feeling of soft serenity, but because he genuinely liked who you were.  The two of you shared enough in common that he didn’t get that alien ‘man-out-of-time’ feeling that he got around other people.  You understood the references he made when he spoke about things from his past.  You understood what it was like to not only have been around for much longer than you should be but what it was like to be from when he was from too.  He liked your sense of morality too.  The way you were connected to other people brought out the best in them, something that Steve believed in but didn’t see as much as he liked.  He liked that you saw that part of humanity too and that you could show it to him.

It wasn’t just that you had things in common that he liked about you either.  He liked how different you were from him too.  He had thought your relaxed nature might grate on him, he was so used to being around the highly strung and he didn’t know if he could even relate to someone as relaxed as you were.  He had been very wrong.  Your calming nature balanced him, while his more uptight aspect did the same for you.  You got him to stop and relax, while he drew you back out into the world for a little more excitement.

Your dates were never high adrenaline, but he took you dancing, and you would take long walks in the park, often including a lazy picnic where the two of you would feed each other things like brie and pieces of fruit.  He’d even managed to convince you to go to a ball game with him.  It was nice seeing you out of your element and enjoying yourself, and it was nice being out of his element too.

“Do you want to come back to my place?”  You asked as you sat cuddled with him in the back of the horse-drawn carriage.

Steve was ready.  He was slow to act.  He knew that, but with you, he had fallen faster than with anyone.  Maybe it was your powers.  Maybe it was him that had changed.  All he knew was he wanted you.  To taste every part of you, and to feel your body wrapped around his as he penetrated you.

“I would love to,” Steve breathed against your ear.

Your eyes lit up and you gave a small, excited wiggle, like a puppy that was about to get a treat.  “I’m so excited,” you giggled.

“Let’s lower those expectations, way down,” Steve teased and kissed you deeply.

The carriage ride ended and the two of you got out and he flagged down a cab.  It was a short drive to your apartment, but the two of you sat in the back of the car, sharing glances at each other out of the sides of your eyes.  The sexual charge between you was palpable, and the fact that neither of you would even look at each other seemed to heighten it.

The cab pulled up and while Steve paid, you waited on the curb.  You took his hand and led past the doorman and upstairs.

When the door to your apartment closed behind him, he spun you into his arms and looked down at you.  Even at this late hour, it looked like you were bathed in morning light.  Almost as if it radiated from you.  “You are beautiful,” he said and leaned down and kissed you passionately.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, dipping back as you surrendered to him.  He slid one hand down your back and over your ass, it settled on your thigh and gripped it.  You leaned into, lifting your leg and wrapping it around his waist.

He lifted you, making you squeak into his lips, but the kiss didn’t stop.  He continued to passionately caress his lips over yours as he carried you to the bedroom.  As soon as he was in your bedroom, he pressed you against the wall and began to grind against you.  You moaned and gripped his shoulders, kicking off your shoes and then slipping back down to the floor.  You gripped his shirt and slowly began to unbutton it.  At the same time, he unzipped your dress and pushed it down over your shoulders.  He tugged it at your waist and the fabric gave and fell to the floor, pooling around your feet.

“Steve,” you whispered.

His eyes flicked to yours and he ground his hardening cock against you again.  “Mm-hmm…”

“I’m on birth control,” you said.  “And an actual god. So you don’t need to worry about anything if you want to forego protection.”

Steve smiled and kissed you hungrily.  The thought of fucking you raw was even better than he thought it would be.  He wasn’t the most experienced person in the world but he always used protection when he went to bed with someone.  He was excited to try something new.

You went for his belt, but he lifted you at the waist, putting you on the bed and kneeling between your legs.  He grabbed the waistband of your panties and dragged them down, nearly snapping the elastic with the force he used.  You gasped and fell back, spreading your legs for him.  He hummed and paused for a moment taking in the inviting sight of your glistening cunt, open and display for him.  He ran his thumb between your folds and rubbed it over your clit in a small slow circle.  As you moaned softly, he kissed you, first on the inside of your thigh, and then at the apex, so close to your sex that he could taste it.  He licked up your folds, swirling his tongue around to greedily draw as much of your arousal into himself as he could.  You moaned arching your back and gripping his hair and more of that heady fluid dripped from you.

He drank it up, sticking his tongue inside you to taste it from the source.  Your walls clenched and you lifted your hips, moaning his name as you tugged on his hair.  He began to suck greedily, first wide and unfocused, and then narrowing in on your clit.  He pulled the little bud into his mouth and lapped his tongue over it, making it twitch in his mouth.  He pushed his middle finger inside you and groaned softly as you squeezed your walls around him.  He could imagine his cock buried inside that wet heat, being squeezed on all sides as you clenched around him.

He began to fuck you with his finger, curling it and twisting his wrist as he searched for that sweet spot inside you.  His fingertips touched down on the spongy surface of your g-spot and he pushed against it hard.  You cried out and jerked up hard into his mouth.  He smiled around your clit and kept going.

He used his finger to drag over that same spot again and again as his tongue flicked quickly over your clit.  The sounds you made got louder and more primal.  Your legs trembled and your spine curved off the mattress.  With a loud cry, you came, gushing on his chest.  He groaned and sat back, his fingers still moving inside you, as your cunt fluttered around it.

“Oh my god,” you sighed as you began to relax again.  “Steve…”

“Mmm…” he hummed.  “It was good for me too.”

He stood up and as he unfastened his pants you turned around in the bed so your head was hanging over the edge, sticking your tongue out invitingly.

“What are you doing?”  Steve asked looking down at you.

“It seems only fair that I reciprocate,” you said. 

He bit his bottom lip and ran the tip of his cock over your lips, pumping it in his fist a few times so his foreskin slid back and forth over the head.  You parted your lips and flicked your tongue out, flicking over the slit.  He hummed and pushed in.  You closed your lips around his shaft and curled your tongue.  He gently thrust his hips, adding some friction to the delicious suction you were providing.  He groaned and his cock began to leak.  It twitched in your mouth and he wanted more.  He began to thrust a little deeper.

You opened your mouth and grabbed his hips, pulling him in deeper still and guiding him to go faster.  He groaned as he watched your throat contort as his cock pushed down into the tight space.  He took the hint and began to thrust properly.  You mewled around his shaft as he fucked your throat, and he began to pull and tug on your already hardened nipples.  It only made your sounds louder and his cock throb harder.  He could feel his climax approaching and he pulled out suddenly leaving you blinking up at him.

“I want you inside me, Steve,” you moaned, shifting into the middle of the bed and spreading your legs.  “I need it.”

“I’m all yours, sweetheart,” he purred, climbing in between your legs.  He leaned over and kissed you deeply, lining himself up to your entrance.  The heat radiated from you, drawing him in and with a hard thrust, he sunk deep into you.

You gasped, arching up against him and clenching your walls.  It felt like a soft clamp around his cock and he groaned into your lips.  He gave you a moment to relax and then started to thrust.  You dug your fingers into his arms and broke the kiss, nipped at his earlobe.  “Hard, Steve,” you whispered.  “I won’t break.”

Steve pulled himself up onto his knees and began to pound into you.

He looked down at you as you began to fall apart for him.  He had imagined what it would be like to have sex with you for the first time.  He’d imagined it would be slow and gentle.  The kind where it was just two people connecting on a physical level.  Not this hard and rough fucking that was happening now.

You moved your legs up onto his chest, pushing your hips up so that he could penetrate you even deeper.  He groaned, kissing the inside of your ankle, and began to thumb your clit.

You cried out and shuddered around his cock.  He could feel you nearing your orgasm and see the tension on your face as it threatened to break.  He pinched your clit and all at once your orgasm hit, bucking up hard and crying out.  You clawed at the bedhead and your cunt squeezed and pulsed around his shaft, milking him.

He groaned and with a hard thrust, he came, pumping hot ropes inside of you.

You hummed and relaxed back into the mattress, your legs slipping from his chest.  He slid out of you and lay down beside you, draping his arm over your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Was that what fucking is like?”  You asked.

He looked at you puzzled.  “You were a virgin?”

You started laughing.  “No,” you said.  “But normally… the way I affect people… it’s not like that.”

“I didn’t expect it to be like that either,” he admitted.  “That was a first for me too.”

You raised your eyebrow at him.  “Were you a virgin?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No.  But I’m usually a little more gentle than that.”

“It was fun,” you hummed and nosed at his cheek.  “Tomorrow, we can do it my way.”

Steve smiled and kissed you gently.  He felt sleepy and sated, but the sound of waking up with you tomorrow was definitely something to look forward to.

// NEXT

[cheonjeolmi]

Daddy’s Little Girl

Request Status: Open !

Pairing: Hange x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello this is a part 2 of “I’m Your Owner” and this is my first time writing smut and im ace so im sorry if it’s bad or if some parts don’t make sense? anyway i don’t think i’m ever recovering from this, so please enjoy. if you want to listen to music while reading, i suggest “let me love you” by ariana grande (slowed), or dark horse by katy perry (slowed)

Word Count: 4979

WARNING: NSFW 18+, bdsm, dom/sub, dom!hange, possessive!hange, degradation, sensory deprivation, slight humiliation kink, daddy kink, praise kink, hand kink, dacryphilia, oral sex, strap-on sex, mirror sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm delay, strap-on riding, fingering, spanking, choking, neck marking, marking with nails, hair-pulling, and hange calling you kitten multiple times

“You’re late.” Hange growled looking at their pocket watch, as you closed the door slowly before being met with their annoyed expression, giving them a nervous smile.

“I- I’m sorry, Hange. I ran as fast as I could but-!” you nervously rubbed the back of your nape, trying to convince yourself you weren’t slightly aroused by their growling-

“What did I tell you?” Hange said as they shifted to where you are, their arms folded over their chest.

“Wh-what?” you slightly trembled in both fear and arousal as their domineering aura made you feel butterflies in your stomach while heat threatened to creep up on your face.

“Do I have to repeat myself again, Y/N” they stalked closer and closer every step you took backward, you gasped as your back was met with the door and Hange incredibly close to you.

“N-no, Hange” you stuttered, believing that was the safest option to go with, as a lot of your rationality flew out the window when they simply growled at you-

“Good.” Hange’s breath tickled your ear, making you shiver in pleasure as they pulled away slightly as their eyes looked up and down your figure then settled to your lips, Hange smirked and licked their lips, preparing for the food in front of them. 

You eyed them cautiously as you wondered what their next move was since with Hange their actions were always a guessing game. “...Please, Hange” you muttered under your breath, hoping they didn’t hear it, but of course they did.

“Hm? Please what? I can’t hear you, Y/N” Hange purred as they grabbed your chin tilting it so that their light brown eyes were on your eyes, their other hand on the door right next to the side of your head, completely pinning you to the door.

“..Please just-“

“Please what?” Hange growled as their hand on your chin lowered down to grip your neck, choking you slightly, your breath hitched in your throat and you shuddered in your place.

“P-Please daddy” you stammered, finding it hard to speak as Hange’s hand gripped your neck, 

“Come on darling, tell daddy what you want? Daddy can’t help you if you don’t speak up” they spoke huskily into your ear and you were pretty sure your airflow just gave up on you as heat flushed your face, mind feeling hazy from the pleasure.

You felt an unusual surge of confidence rush through your veins as you growled and flipped your positions, Hange gasping in surprise as you pinned them to the door before fixing their posture and cleared their throat, which brought you back to reality face flushed as you analyzed your positions.

“Oh Y/N, it’s cute you think you can take charge,” Hange chuckled darkly, looking you over as their eyes held a primal hunger within them, wanting to just rip open your clothes and ravage you into the next year

Hange pushed you back against the door, securing you in place as they leaned into your ear while their knee was in between your legs. “Now, well, now you’ve angered daddy. And you know how daddy gets when they’re mad, so don’t even think about disobeying me. Otherwise, I won’t hesitate to throw you out of my room on the verge of cumming, do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, daddy” you mewled as they smirked at your submission.

“Mm, look at you so pretty and all when you submit to me” they cooed, pulling you in to kiss them as you engaged in a kiss filled with burning hot passion, both moving into each other as if you hadn’t eaten for days. 

You moaned slightly into the kiss and Hange swiped their tongue along your bottom lip asking for access to which you complied, moaning as their tongue invaded your mouth, tongues locking in a fiery dance with Hange winning as they fully dominated you.

You were sure you were losing your mind as you slowly became intoxicated from the dizzying pleasure as you couldn’t think straight. Your knees threatened to buckle as sinful thoughts of Hange and all the things you wanted them to do to you run through your head, which seemed to further spike your pleasure.

Hange pulled away from the kiss to gasp for air as you followed their movements, collecting some much-needed air, once you had enough to breathe in, you leaned in hungry and wanting more but they brought a finger to your lips, stopping you from doing so.

“I’ve had enough. I want you now” they spoke as they quickly removed all of your harnesses and skillfully threw open all your buttons, leaning in to kiss and lick at the exposed areas of your skin leaving you to moan and whimper loudly from their roughness.

Hange bit and sucked at your neck as hickeys began to form, you threw your head back in pleasure as you gripped and pulled at their hair, feeling yourself get wetter as they groaned, sending vibrations into your skin.

“Oh fuck Hange-!” you cried out, at this point not caring whether you used the wrong name as your brain was too focused on the pleasure they were currently giving you.

“That’s it, darling~ Say my name. Rest assured it’s one of the things you’ll be screaming tonight” Hange huskily voiced out as they bit your neck before soothing it with their tongue.

“God, Hange! Please fuck me-!” you gripped their hair tightly as Hange continued littering your neck in hickeys while their hands were at work to hurriedly slide off your button-up shirt and unclasp your bra, gazing at your breasts before they began to play with them, squeezing them from time to time and occasionally rolling your nipples in between their fingers.

“Fuck Y/N, you taste so good” they groaned, taking off their lips from your neck smirking for a slight second at all the hickeys that began to appear on your neck, as they were scattered all around your neck. Though knowing Hange, they were soon to leave more all around your body.

Hange’s eyes glossed over all of the hickeys they bit and sucked into your neck, once again smirking in proud victory as they marked you all over, giving you an unforgettable reminder as to who owned you. Their line of sight trailed down your body and landed on your breasts as they squeezed your breasts, loving the way you continued to moan loudly.

“Already moaning when I’ve barely touched you? You really are daddy’s little whore, aren’t you” Hange smirked as they leaned in, taking your nipple into your mouth as they gently nipped and sucked, before giving the same attention to your other breast as they palmed at your free one.

Your knees buckled from underneath you as you leaned back against the door, trying to balance yourself otherwise you would’ve dropped to the ground. Hange noticed this and stopped at their ministrations, making you whine in need.

Hange placed their hands on your waist as they tugged you close to them, locking you in another fiery kiss before they carried you bridal style heading into the bedroom which was connected to their office, never once breaking the kiss.

Once you got to the bedroom, Hange threw you onto the bed and immediately pinned both of your wrists with their hand, smirking as the view of you underneath them in such a compromising position made a rush of pleasure course through their veins. Mentally etching the sight into their mind, wanting to remember the way your flushed face looked and how you would eventually look as you orgasmed from being ravaged until you broke down crying.

“Be a good girl and stay here. Daddy’s got a special experiment planned just for you” Hange seductively spoke as they removed themself from their earlier position and walked out of the bedroom to grab their materials.

They came back with silk ropes, and a black 8-inch strap-on dildo one of their inventions they wanted to test out on you, on hand as they climbed back onto the bed straddling your hips. 

“Give me your hands” they ordered as you placed both your hands out in front of Hange, you stared at them while they proceeded to bind your wrists together before tying it around the headboard of the bed, slightly tugging at it to make sure you were bound just right.

Hange moved to peck a chaste kiss on your lips as their mouth trailed downwards, now on your jaw, and moved further down now leaving a fiery trail of kisses on your neck, then over to your breasts as you moaned.

Hange took your breast into your mouth once more, licking and sucking on your breast as they fondled your other breast with their hand, the other trailing down to unbutton your pants as you moved to help them take off said article of clothing.

“You’re all mine. You’re daddy’s little bitch. Just wait until I fuck you like a slut” they growled which sent vibrations across your skin and made you shudder in pleasure. “Who’s all mine?”

“God, I’m all yours! I’m a needy slut for daddy! Please I- I need you” you cried out as you desperately wanted them to touch you where you needed them most as you weren’t sure how long you could keep yourself composed.

“Patience dear, but since you begged nicely, I guess I’ll give you a little reward” Hange chuckled, loving your desperation now moving downward to where you needed them most, their hands gripped at your thighs spreading them apart before kissing and sucking at your inner thighs in hopes to leave marks on your skin.

“Ah, Hange please” you moaned and thrashed against your restraints as Hange was now so close to where you wanted them but you knew they were going to tease you first rather than giving you what you wanted right off the bat.

“I love when you beg for me like a good girl” Hange pulled away from in between your legs to praise you before going down once more, “Look at me, baby” they purred softly and took the hem of your underwear into their mouth as they took it off you, you flushed heavily as you added the sight onto a list of things Hange did that made you weak in the knees. 

At that point, you really believed you were about to cum just from the sight of them taking your underwear off with only their mouth despite not even getting to the main event, and you really didn’t blame yourself because lord, was that the hottest thing you’ve ever seen them do.

Hange threw away your undergarments somewhere on the floor and turned their attention to your cunt that was dripping wet, smirking as they saw the full effect they had on you. 

“My my, you’re already so wet for me? Baby, the fun’s only just begun” Hange teased as they took a few seconds to stare at your naked core in appreciation before licking you from your folds to your clit. 

You bit your lip, trying to contain your moan as every one of Hange’s actions made you lose your mind, the heat pooling between your legs flaring up as every part of you began to lust for their touch, their tongue, and for them.

“Please..stop..teasing me” you breathed out before moaning slightly as they chuckled sending vibrations to your core.

“Patience, whore. I was getting to that” Hange grunted as they left a mark on your inner thigh before their lips gently caress your clit.

You groaned quietly, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the pleasure Hange was giving you, their skillful tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves, making your breath staggered.

Hange slowly inserted their index finger into you, smirking from how easily their finger slid in due to your wetness as they pushed their finger in and out in a steady pace, while their tongue lapped at your clit. 

“Hange!” You gasp as they add their middle finger into the mix, now fingering you with two of their digits as they curl their fingers and hit your g-spot, making you moan loudly.

“Oh fuck, Jesus! Hange faster!” you rasped and felt them smirk along your core as they listened and moved their fingers faster, adding a third digit into your filled cunt as you arched your back in pleasure, hips moving on it’s own as your body begged for more.

Soon enough you came, your walls tightening around Hange’s fingers as you scream and cried profanities while Hange’s fingers helped you work through your orgasm, laying back down on the bed once you came down from your high.

Hange pulled away from your bundle of nerves and took their fingers out of your dripping cunt, lapping up at your sweet juices while groaning from the taste of you. Once they lapped up everything, they brought their fingers that were soaked with your juices to their mouth, eyeing you seductively as they licked and sucked their fingers which were now coated with their saliva. They smirked seeing your face flush with heat.

Hange went back on top of you bringing their saliva-coated fingers to your mouth “Suck it whore,” they commanded as you opened your mouth to suck on their fingers, going a bit faster when you heard their quiet groans “Mm, such a good girl. You like following daddy’s orders?” they questioned and you groaned into their fingers unable to speak.

Hange removed your silk restraints as they kissed your wrists, and stood up from the bed, moving over to the chair where the dildo was placed. ‘Let the experiment begin’ Hange thought as they wondered how well their invention would work as they strapped it onto themself, pulling at the buckle making sure it was secured tightly on themself.

“On your hands and knees slut, and face the headboard” they barked out, as you immediately followed their orders while Hange smirked when they heard the bed creaking as you went to fix your position.

They came back to the bed and began trailing a hand down your back and along your spine, making you shiver in delight. Hange slightly raked their nails across your back as their trail began to form along your back as they traced it like constellations. Hange moved their hand downwards as it swiped at your folds, smirking as it was much more soaked than before.

You inhaled sharply as Hange’s hand rubbed at your core gently, “What a pretty pussy, so wet and ready for daddy~” Hange teased, making you moan and grip at the sheets.

Seeing as you were more than wet, Hange knew the 8-inch would slide in with ease as they gazed at you and smiled as your eyes met their light brown ones before widening seeing what had been attached to them. You weren’t sure it was going to fit, although you were definitely aroused by it.

“Oh god by the walls..please fuck me! Break me, daddy” you cried out as your lust clouded your better judgement. 

Hange took the dildo and shifted it so that they could tease at your entrance, “Aww, you want daddy to fuck you until you break, what a filthy whore you are” they sneered and rubbed your ass before slapping it, loving your moan at the unexpected action. “You like when daddy slaps you? Pathetic” they brought their hand down to your ass to slap you and you moaned once more, enjoying the pain and pleasure that came with their slaps, as they offered two more slaps in succession.

“12 slaps and you’re going to count each one and thank me. Clear? If so, give me a color” they commanded, bringing out a silk blindfold and covering your eyes tying it and made slight adjustments to make sure you couldn’t see.

You couldn’t see anything which made you quiver in fear and heavy arousal, “G-green.” you stammered as you mentally tried to prepare yourself because your brain was this close to short-circuiting.

“Good girl” they raised their hand to slap you “One! Thank you“ you spoke and they slapped you twice “Two! Thank y- Three, thank you!” you cried out as the pain spread across your body.

You were on your 7th slap, slowly but surely being rendered unable to speak as the pain seared your skin, your ass now red from their spanking. Hange slapped you and you couldn’t help but moan “Ah! E-eight. Th-thank you..” you felt tears stream down your face as you truly felt you couldn’t take it anymore.

“H-Hange, I can’t take it anymore” you pleaded, hoping they’d listen to you but they simply growled

“No. You're going to take it like the filthy slut you are!” they slapped you thrice in succession, barely giving you time to prepare.

“Fuck! N-nine..God, yes! Ten..E-eleven!” you cried out, tears flowing from your face as the pleasure became unbearable.

Hange rubbed your ass, trying to soothe the pain “You’re doing so well for me, kitten~ one more slap, just hold out for daddy alright. Color?” they purred and you whined in pain

“Y-yes daddy..green” you breathed out trying to hold out. Hange spanked you one last time and you came then and there. “Im-! Twelve! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you repeatedly cried out as your heavy orgasm made you see stars.

Hange rubbed your ass and left kisses on the now burning red spots, praising you for being a good girl and for taking it so well and you moaned from their praises. “Alright, now for the main event” they spoke and you whined trying to pull away from their hold while they were about to insert themself

“N-no, Hange please..I’m still s-sensit- Ah!” you screamed as they inserted their dildo into you, letting you adjust to the size. “No, please-“ your hips moved involuntarily trying to shy away but Hange kept you locked in your position.

“I’ll be moving now” they murmured and pushed in and out of you slowly, and you moaned and cried out as they pushed into you, you wanted to stop as you were still sensitive from your orgasm but you couldn’t as the pain turned into pleasure.

The loud sounds of skin slapping against each other plus your moans and Hange’s low groans filled the room as Hange began to pump into you faster as they gripped onto your hips. Hange grabbed both your wrists in their hand, making your upper half drop to the sheets, your face now on the pillow as you tried to cover your moans.

Hange tugged on your wrists, pulling your body up to press against theirs, Hange’s clothed chest pressing against your back as your moans increased in volume as Hange hit you deeper and hit against your g-spot. “Don’t hide your moans from daddy. Let people know who’s making you feel so good” they growled into your ear, as they pulled on your hair with their other hand, lapping at the tears which stained your face.

“Ah! Yes, fuck yes! Hange please!” you cried out

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh? Who’s fucking you like the bitch in heat you are?” they groaned as they pound their hips into you roughly.

“Y-you are Hange! Please..fuck me like a slut!” you begged as Hange smirked before tugging you closer to them with their hand that held both your wrists, “That’s it, take daddy’s cock like a good girl” they husked and kissed and sucked at your neck, leaving hickeys in their trail as you groan.

Hange let go of your wrists and your arms landed on your sides, as they leaned in closer to your back transferring their hold from your hips to your breasts as they played with them while simultaneously thrusting into you.

You felt a tight coil start to form and you knew you were about to cum “I-I’m gonna..” Hange noticed this as your walls twitched inside them and they thrusted much harder and faster as well, 

“Cum for me, kitten. You’ve earned it~” they cooed as they pounded into you and your vision was filled with white as you came, with Hange slowly thrusting into you helping you ride your high. You dropped onto the bed, panting heavily as Hange pulled out of you and flipped your positions as you were hovering over Hange as their hands were on your hips.

“H-Hange..?” you spoke as you looked at them confused

“I want you to ride me” they stated as you felt your face heat up from their forwardness.

“I- well if- if that’s what you want, then I’ll do it daddy” you spoke as you lined your entrance to the tip of their 8-inch dildo, gulping audibly as you were fearful of its massive size. You placed yourself inside it slowly but surely and yelped loudly when Hange brought you down to the base of the dildo with their hands on your hips

“Sorry, darling but daddy’s getting impatient” they grunted as they began controlling your pace while they thrust their hips in an effort to match your rhythm, your hips now moving by itself as you rode Hange who was now letting out small groans of pleasure as they felt the base touch and rub slightly at their clit.

You continued to ride them as you increased the pace at which you went and moaned when they slammed into you, your breasts bouncing from their fast pace. “Hange!” you cried as they reached to fondle your breasts. 

“You look so pretty when you’re riding me, oh! How I wish you could see how you look” they exclaimed in a sex-crazed manner as they thrust into you.

After a few seconds you felt a familiar coil tighten in your stomach but before you could warn Hange, you came as your back arched from the intensity of your orgasm, your body fell on Hange’s still clothed torso as you panted heavily.

“Good girl~” they purred as they soothingly ran a hand down your back. Hange laid you down on the side of the bed as they went to stand up from the bed, chuckling a little when you mewled from the loss of contact.

“Hm? You thought we were done? I did say I was going to fuck you until you broke,” they smirked “I just need to get one more thing, and while I do, I expect you to be on your hands and knees facing away from the headboard, and wear the blindfold. You’re in for quite the surprise, kitten” they spoke before exiting the room, as you fixed yourself into your position as you placed the blindfold on your forehead before bringing it over your eyes. 

You felt embarrassed as you imagined someone else walking in and finding you in such a promiscuous position, but you knew Hange and knew they locked the door as the sight of you naked and like this was for their eyes only. Your arousal spiked as you were blindfolded since you were unable to see what was happening, every part of you was now hyper aware as your body tried to make up for your lack of sight.

“I’m back princess~ I hope you didn’t wait long. Oh and I see you’re in your place, you truly are daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?” Hange exclaimed as their voice was downright sinful and you shivered in your place wondering what they had in store for you.

Hange carried a full length mirror in both their hands and propped it a few feet away from you, they smirked once it was in the perfect position before stepping away to open their button-up shirt but not quite removing it fully, their nipples hardening from the cool air. Hange approached the bed and climbed onto it as they were now behind you, their hand trailing down your spine liking the way you shuddered from their unexpected touch, as they’d been silent before leading up to you.

“H-Hange” you breathed out in a quiet voice and Hange grabbed both of your hips as they inserted the dildo which was still strapped onto them into your dripping entrance and you moaned as your body was much more sensitive than before due to the blindfold.

Hange thrust into you and their hand slithered to your clit as they began to rub the bundle of nerves, while their other hand fondled your breast as their fingers rolled and pinched your nipple. They leaned in close to you and blew into your ear, making you shiver in the process, before gently nipping at the shell of your ear.

“Do you want to take off your blindfold, princess?” they whispered into your ear and you immediately nodded your head and they snickered lightly before moving to remove your blindfold, you squint your eyes at the sudden exposure to light, but as you surveyed your surroundings, your eyes widened seeing the very obvious mirror in front of you and flushed in embarrassment.

“I- Hange..what-“ you turned your head trying to look anywhere but in front as you were now heavily embarrassed with seeing your reflection in the mirror.

Hange gripped your chin and forced your head back to look at yourself in the mirror “You’re going to watch me as I fuck you like a slut, clear?” they breathed into your ear and tugged lightly on your earlobe with their teeth, you nodded and they praised you, before continuing to thrust into you as you watched yourself in the mirror.

You noted your tear-stained face, your face flushed in embarrassment as you focused your gaze to Hange who smirked as you met their light brown eyes. 

“Enjoying the view princess~? ‘Cause I am” they teased and your face heated up and you stuttered trying to answer them but only moaned when they pound their hips continuously.

“Oh fuck, oh Hange, faster please” you begged as they moved their hips faster, moving their hands back to your hips as they pulled you back to hit deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight for me” Hange groaned and once again grabbed both your wrists with their hand, bringing their other hand to trail up from your breast and wrapped around your neck, choking you lightly as Hange leaned in to lick along your spine and moved up to the back of your neck as you shivered in pleasure.

“Look at yourself, doll. Look at how good you look while I fuck you” Hange spoke and you looked into the mirror, face flushing from your position, your eyes shifting from you to Hange who’s eyes looked back at you from the mirror, their eyes darkened in lust and they pushed you forward as you fell on the bed

“Oh fuck Y/N, I can’t hold back anymore” they spoke hurriedly as they gripped your ass, ramming into you as you moaned loudly, their pace moving at breakneck speed and you were sure you were about to cum from your view in the mirror of Hange pounding into you as if you were just their little plaything.

“Ah! Fuck, oh god, fuck yes! Just like that, daddy!” you cried out as they moved impossibly faster, now leaning in close to you with their chest pressing into your back as they hugged your waist, rapidly thrusting in and out of you.

You moaned and screamed a mix of profanities and Hange’s name as they made you drown in the pleasure of being fucked like a ragdoll, as Hange showed no signs of stopping their rough treatment of your body.

After a while of being pounded into, having your guts rearranged, and being turned inside out, you started feeling light-headed and most likely dizzy from the pleasure as another familiar coil formed in your stomach.

“Ngh! Oh, fuck, Hange I’m gonna-“ you cried and they nipped at your skin, placing hickeys on your shoulder.

“Just hold out for a bit, baby” they muttered as they thrust into you a few times, with you crying out as you suddenly came as you arched your back feeling your orgasm hit you in waves, while Hange helped bring you down from your high and trailed kisses across your skin.

Once the waves died down, Hange took off the strap and put everything they used away, and came back to the bed as you and Hange now laid on the bed together with your head on their chest and their arm wrapped along your waist, the other one gently resting on your head as they whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

“Was I too rough on you darling?” they asked, voice laced with concern wondering if they may have gone a little too far.

“No, you were perfect. That..that was so hot” you stammered, a bit embarrassed from your words and with the scenes of Hange dominating you replayed in your mind. “I’m gonna have a hard time covering these hickeys” you chuckled lightly as Hange blushed a bit

“..I’m sorry, I may have gone a bit too far with them..but at least everyone will know you’re mine” they teased and laughed when your face slightly heated up before kissing you on your forehead, to your nose, and on your lips.

The two of you laid in comfortable silence as you rested your head on Hange’s chest, hearing the slow comforting beats of their heart. You were home.

You looked up at Hange and noticed they’d already fallen asleep, you smiled and snickered lightly seeing some drool on the corner of their mouth.

“Well, I was only ever yours to begin with” you spoke softly, readjusting your position as you fell asleep on them.

[swordofpevensie]

Ten Words & Two Sentences (King Edmund The Just)

warnings: fluff. flirting. king edmund is complimented for the first time. y/n is a princette and reffered as they/them.

a/n: hi i just love edmund and think he deserves happiness. pls tell me what you think. english isn't my native language so if there's any mistake, feel free to correct me.♡ requests are open! .｡*♡

word count: 2627

“Edmund stop playing with your hair! It already looks good! Edmund, stop touching it!”

As he was looking at the mirror, Edmund heard Lucy's giggle. Queen Lucy had always enjoyed it when her sister scolded her brothers.

“What? I'm just-”

“Ed!”

When he heard his sister's truly angry voice, King Edmund stopped touching his hair. He knew that if he didn't listen to Queen Susan while using that tone, then he'd be in trouble.

Standing in front of the big mirror with gold and shining frame, King Edmund had been looking at himself for almost fifteen minutes. Today was a big day and he was excited. He was really excited.

Today was the day when Princette Y/N was going to visit Cair Paravel and Edmund had his eyes on them for a very long time. It wasn't official though. He just admired Y/N secretly and kept silent about his feelings. He never told it to his siblings, not even to Queen Lucy. He barely spoke to Y/N. He just liked them and thought that they were unattainable, cool, and brilliant.

It was the first time ever King had a crush on someone, and because he didn't tell anyone about it, he was actually very confused and didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to talk about his feelings with them? Or was he supposed to wait to see if Y/N liked him?

Y/N was a cheerful and talkative person. When they were in Cair Paravel, the place always felt brighter and merrier. When they were around, everyone had a smile on their face and laughter were heard in the castle all the time.

Besides that, they were also talented and would surprise Narnians with their new skills. Every time they visited the castle, they'd come with something new. The last time they were in the castle, they defeated High King in a archery competition. Queen Susan and two other Narnians were juries and all of them were surprised when Y/N was able to shoot the target while riding a horse.

King Edmund admired everything about them, however he never heard or saw anything from them which could imply they had feelings for the King. Maybe that was the reason why he never showed his emotions.

But he knew he had to do something before someone else wanted Princette. It wouldn't be unexpected if someone wanted to marry them soon.

All in all, King Edmund was very excited and was looking forward to see them. But he wanted to make sure he looked good when he finally saw them, which was the reason of the time he'd been spending in front of the mirror and driving Queen Susan crazy.

“Susan!” He said in a panicked voice. “Susan there is a pimple on my chin! How can I get rid of it?”

“Let me see.” Queen Susan said while walking to her brother. She cupped his face and examined it carefully. “Edmund, you are being dramatic. It is impossible to see it unless someone is looking at you that closely.”

‘But,’ King thought. ‘What if they want to kiss me but then see it and do not want to kiss me anymore?’

“I'm not being dramatic!” Edmund defended himself. “It is huge. How can I get rid of it before the ball starts?”

“You can't.” Queen Susan rolled her eyes. “Unless you use magic or something. It won't be seen. Calm down.”

Edmund looked at Lucy, hoping that maybe she'd have a solution but Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

Susan had a big and heart-warming smile on her face. She looked at her brother proudly and fixed his collar.

“You look handsome as always, brother.” She said while giving him his sword. “Here. Now you are perfect. Come on, we need to be in the ballroom immediately. We've spent so much time already! I hope Peter didn't break the chandelier again.”

Susan put her hand to Edmund's arm and they left the room arm to arm, Lucy was following them.

──── .*･｡ﾟ ༘✧. .*･｡ﾟ ༘✧────

When they arrived at the ball hall, the first dancing had already begun. Susan left King alone to find Peter and ask him if everything was alright.

Edmund now was all alone, standing in the middle of the room. His eyes were searching for something and he had to look at so many different faces until he found his favourite one.

There they were. All the beauty in Narnia was now trapped in their existence. Either Y/N was literally shining and glowing or Edmund was just love drunk. He knew just one thing and it was the fact that Y/N was the most lovely person he had ever seen and there was nothing he wouldn't do to belong to them.

While just standing there and looking at them in silence, Edmund was finally noticed by Y/N. They smiled as soon as their and Edmund's eyes met.

Oh, that smile and the things it did to King. As they were getting closer to him, his heart beat faster and faster. He was also getting nervous. What he was going to say? What was he supposed to do? Where should he put his hands? How should he greet them? He wished he'd asked those questions to Susan before coming here.

“Your Highness,” They said as they bowed.

Edmund responded with a smile and gently said “Princette Y/N,” while greeting them. “Just Edmund, please.”

He didn't want them to have those formal addresses. He wanted to be their friend, and if he was lucky enough, more than a friend.

“How are you doing, Edmund?” Y/N asked with a soft voice.

“Better now,” King said, smiling wittily and hoping they'd notice what he meant. “What about you?”

“Pretty good.” Their little smile caused their dimple to show up in their cheek.

While standing in silence for a few seconds, Y/N stared at him. It was a short time but they could see how much Edmund had changed since their last contact. He became taller, his hair grew, his shoulders were broader and he had a pimple, which wasn't there before, on his chin now. Also, that unexplainable darkness that was one of his unique characteristics was still there but, thankfully, his beautiful silver crown shone strong enough to make the darkness disappear.

“You look beautiful, my King,” Y/N said. “Did you change your hairstyle?”

With each word they said and Edmund heard, he felt like he was being stabbed by a sword just being made and was still hot. There was a terrible pain in his stomach, burning and aching. He thought if he touched there now, his hand would burn. However, the pain and the ache turned into some of kind excitement in a few seconds. This wave of excitement climbed up to his windpipe and burnt his throat. He wanted to say something but that feeling didn't let him speak.

Apart from his siblings, Edmund had never been complimented. He always felt like no one cared the way he looked, what he wore, what he did to his hair. Therefore, he felt invisible frequently. All of his siblings received compliments somehow, sometime, somewhere but he was like a ghost people couldn't see.

Susan would always tell him that he was handsome and charming, Lucy would praise his wisdom and knowledge, Peter would proudly smile at him and say that he was proud of him, he'd improved so much.

But King secretly wanted a stranger to see him, notice the change in him, and compliment him, or at least say something. However, for an unknown reason, people never did that.

Therefore when he was praised by Y/N, Edmund was left speechless. First of all, it was them caring and complimenting him. Secondly, they complimented him in a very natural way. It wasn't a forced statement, it was natural and sincere. Thirdly and lastly, in this entire ballroom, the only person King actually cared was them.

The longer he kept quiet, the more this wave spread around his body. Now it was on his cheeks, he felt his skin was becoming hot. Oh no, was he really blushing?

He knew he had to say something because the situation was getting weirder.

“Thank you,” was what he managed to say. “Honestly, thank you so much.” He could add. “In fact, I messed it. My sister Susan was mad at me.”

Y/N laughed. “It doesn't look messy if you ask me, my King.”

“Please call me Edmund,” He said. “I am not a big admirer of those titles.”

“I'm sorry, it's just from force of habit.”

Edmund saw they were playing with their fingers. Were they... Could they be nervous too?

He knew he had to make a move this time. They complimented him, now it was his turn to do something and try to charm them.

“Would you... Would you like to dance, Y/N?”

Upon hearing the question, they smiled. Their lips curved so beautifully that Edmund almost kissed them. The dimple on their cheek was also so kissable and touchable. Edmund thought he could touch with it for hours, without being bored.

“Of course.” They replied.

After getting approval, Edmund put his left hand to their waist, used the right one to take their hand into his. He pulled their body closer; now their chests were so close. Edmund felt afraid because his heartbeats would probably be felt when their chest touched his.

“Do you have any surprises for us?” Edmund asked.

“I learnt how to dance.”

Then it hit him. Was that the reason why she never danced with anyone? Edmund had never asked them to dance before, but he was now glad he didn't because being rejected would probably kill him. However, his patience and also shyness was being awarded with being the first man ever to dance with Y/N. Such a big honour it was. Edmund couldn't stop himself from smiling.

“Why did you learn?”

“To be able to dance with a certain someone.”

Y/N knew they were playing with fire but didn't care because they needed something, some sort of sign from Edmund to see if High King was right about what they said earlier.

Y/N was able to kill a soldier with a scissor, shoot the target while riding a horse, take care of their five siblings at the same time, paint the biggest wall in their kingdom's castle, play piano, beat their big brother in arm wrestling but the hardest thing they ever did was having a crush on King Edmund.

He was silent. To find him in a room, one had to look very carefully and to every corner. It was impossible to contact him unless he wanted to be found or talked to. He was like a sad and melancholic ghost that appeared from time to time when he felt like showing up. He was so silent that sometimes it felt like he was invisible.

Y/N always tried to find him though. Yet his extraordinary effort to avoid everyone and be on his own made it almost impossible. Most of the time he would be in the library and never visit the ballroom. Despite generally being an outgoing person, Y/N still wasn't brave enough to follow him to the library. Because firstly, he had never given any indications, so especially trying to be with him in the same room would be very awkward.

When they arrived at Cair Paravel this noon, King wasn't there as usual. But High King was there to welcome them and say they needed to talk.

Peter absolutely knew Edmund would kill him when he heard what he did but didn't care. He was sick of these two not being together because of their silence and shyness. However, he was still thoughtful enough to not say everything about his brother and his feelings. He just said Edmund was interested in some that Y/N knew very closely. And then he smiled, and winked. He wasn't sure, maybe he couldn't be subtle as he had planned.

But the important thing was that his words gave Y/N courage. Maybe High King was right and Edmund had feelings for them. It was still a mystery, yet now very close to be solved.

“That certain someone must be really lucky,” When they heard Edmund's voice, they could come back to reality. “Lucky enough to capture your attention.”

“I think I am the lucky one.” Y/N replied, looking at his beautiful brown eyes.

“Why?” Edmund looked at his shoes not to step on their feet. He was distracted.

“He is a special person. I think I am lucky enough to give my heart to him.”

Edmund softly smiled. His brown eyes looked like a hot cup of coffee, welcoming and warming.

“Do I know him? You know, for matchmaking purposes.”

“You'll immediately recognize him when you hear about him.”

“I'm listening, then.” While speaking, to catch up with the dance, Edmund held their hand as they twirled.

They were now again chest to chest. All King could see, feel, hear was them. No one else, nothing else. Just them. And it felt good. It was as if they were in their own little universe and there was nobody to disturb them.

“He is a good-looking man with a charming smile. It's a shame that he doesn't smile frequently. He also doesn't speak frequently. He is silent most of the time. He doesn't speak when the words are unnecessary. He has this sort of melancholy, which is something unique to him. But I find it beautiful. And, let me add before I forget, he is the King of Narnia and is called the Just.”

Honestly, it was really hard to keep dancing according to the music when your crush just confessed their feelings to you.

Edmund froze. Literally. His whole world stopped turning. It was unexpected. He had thought it was impossible and couldn't believe it now. How on the earth could they have feelings for him? They... And he. They were the joy and Edmund was... He was the melancholy just like Y/N stated.

“I...” Edmund finally managed to speak. “I wasn't expecting that.”

Y/N smiled. “One of us had to do something.”

“Did you... Did you know?” Edmund frowned. “Let me guess, was it Susan? No, Susan wouldn't do it behind my back. Was it Peter?”

“Yes, it was High King.” They laughed while answering. “But he encouraged me and I believe it's a good thing, isn't it?”

With that question, Edmund realized he didn't say anything about his feelings or respond to their confession.

“It is.” He said. “I... I don't know how to express the way I feel about you. First of all, thank you for your generous words.”

They weren't dancing anymore. They were just standing in each other's arm. They forgot about the ball, people, music, dance and anything else. They just focused on each other and it was enough.

“I like you so much. Actually, it is more than liking. I can say that I love you. Strongly and sincerely. You are like a dream and it is hard to believe-”

Edmund was interrupted when the music stopped and everyone began clapping. It was loud and cheerful.

“Would you like to go outside? Maybe to the garden?” Y/N asked.

“You read my mind.”

They left the room, holding hands.

Finally, in the garden, King had the chance to talk about how he felt about them. How it burned, how it hurt, how it made him feel good, how excited he was when they visited the castle, how his heart beat faster when they were around.

With a lot of kisses, by the way. Thankfully, Y/N was kind enough to not mind the pimple on his chin.

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 9:

FMRN

Would You Go With Me

My Stress

Today was the day, Leo was moving to Gryffindor with two sexy hockey players who actually want him. He hasn’t stopped smiling for the last 26 hours. He was currently in the shower while his boys packed a ‘sexy time’ bag in his closet. Casually bopping to the beat of FMRN as he rinsed off his body. Stepping out of the shower he starts drying off. Legs, stomach, chest, face and everything else. Walking to the closet for the connecting door to the bathroom he finds Finn sitting on a suitcase and Logan trying to zip it shut. Shaking his head he walks over to this plane clothes and starts getting dressed, just a simple pair of jeans, t shirt, belt and baseball cap.

The music was still in the background as Logan jumps up and whoops with triumph. Skipping over to Leo he pulls him in for a rather aggressive, excited, kiss with Finn following with his own sweet and gentle one of his own.

“That bag is crazy full, just so you know.” Finn smiles and kisses Logan’s forehead, the shorter of them was still buzzing like he drank six energy drinks. They heard a bell being rung for breakfast and all sprint over each other to get downstairs.

Judy does not play when it comes to breakfast.

After a healthy morning breakfast of shrimp and grits, or cheese grits if you are Leo, everyone started packing up the vehicles. Leo gets car sick a lot of the time in smaller cars so he is driving them to the airport, ‘them’ meaning Clay and Reg… Finn and Logan got kicked out into Thomas and Noelle's car. Logan fought a little about it but Finn knew that Leo still needed his space. So convincing Logan to go with him by offering a bag of salt and vinegar pork rinds, was rather easy.

Finn has noticed how easy to fall Leo is, he just hopes that Leo doesn’t hesitate with them. Logan didn’t make a very good impression the first time they left. Ever since then Leo has been, understandably, cautious around them. It hurts a little but Finn only ever notices after he looks back on a situation. How Leo looks unsure or hesitates to touch them.

He figured them living together might help Leo open up to him. He just wants him to be happy and safe with them.

“Why am I so nervous…? I have been talking about these two for the entire summer. Shouldn’t I be more excited?” Leo opens the gate with an app on his phone before setting it down in the cupholder. Reg and Clay share a look.

Leo has taken to getting drunk to open up about his fears, Reg and Clay have both become therapists for a sad Leo who isn’t thinking right. It usually stems from Logan's words he used to kiss Leo goodbye for the first time.

‘You are just… a guy who we had a fling’

‘You don’t mean anything to us Leo’

‘Stop being a fucking child Leo!’

Those words haunt Leo when he isn’t distracted in some way. It has gotten better ever since their trip to Gryffindor the first time, but they knew it still bothered him.

“Maybe it's because you are living somewhere away from Peanut for so long.” Clay smiles at him when their eyes meet in the rearview mirror.

“I did try and convince Logan to let him come with, but it was a no. I still can’t believe he is afraid of horses.” Leo snorts and visibly relaxes.

“You know you can always stay with me if you ever need anything, right?” Reg looks at him and gives him a soft smile. Leo squeezes his bicep in thanks. They continue the rest of the drive by Clay annoying Regulus until Reg climbs into the backseat to give him a couple of smacks with a bag of sunflower seeds.

A plane ride and a sleepy car ride later, Leo was carrying most of his bag into Finn’s apartment. He set everything down in the second bedroom and looked around. This was the smallest bedroom he has ever been in… But he was hoping he’d be spending most of his time in the master bedroom anyway. Biting his lip at the thought he is jolted out of his thoughts by two idiots trying to squeeze through the room door at the same time.

“I think we are stuck…”

“Non, I can get us out!” Logan pushes the bag that was in between then onto the floor and they both go toppling over. Leo couldn’t help that laugh that flew out of his mouth. He walks over to help them out just to be pulled into the pile on the ground. Right on top of his baseball bag.

“Oh fuck! Bat in my ribs!”

“You brought a bat!?” Logan is looking at him like he's insane but helps him stand after pushing Finn off himself. “How are you going to use that on the ice?”

“Lo… he plays baseball, not hockey.” Logan rolls his eyes and just ‘blah blah blah’s behind Finn’s back. “Why did you bring it though? It’s going to be too cold to play.”

“Gryff has an indoor batting cage, I looked it up before we left. Shouldn’t you know everything here by now?” Leo starts laying the bags out in a line and opening them up to start organizing the room. Clothes are first.

“Lo doesn’t get out much.” He gets a swift smack to the chest with a pair of long socks from said hermit. Rubbing his chest he smiles. “I have no excuse. Where do you want these?” Holding up the third pair of boots he has found while rummaging in Leo’s bags he holds them up.

“By the wall please.”

“So polite. Logan, you could learn something from him.” Logan makes a sound of offense and was going to say something back in return but Leo turns on his speaker and starts playing some country yeehaw shit, it's growing on him and he won’t lie about it.

“I love this song.” Leo grabs Logan by the wrist and pulls him close, one hand on his waist and the other interlocking their fingers. Swaying to the beat he suddenly pulls away to grab Finn's hand and spins him into his chest while singing “If I gave you my hand, would you take it And make me the happiest man in the world? If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, Finn. Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea? Let me know if you're really a dream. I love you so, so would you go with me?”

Swinging Finn around as Logan watched in awe Leo is pulling away from Finn and holding his hand out to Logan. Breathing slightly heavy just smiling his bright chipped smile with his wild blue eyes. Logan can’t help but take his hand and let himself be spun so his back is to Leo’s chest as he mumbles those same words into his shoulder. “If I gave you my hand, would you take it? And make me the happiest man in the world? If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, Lo. Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea? Let me know if you're really a dream. I love you so, so would you go with me?”

Hours of dancing and actual unpacking later, Logan had to leave to watch the kids while Celeste and Dumo head to their eye appointments. Leo was sprawled out on the sofa, mostly asleep, when he felt a kiss on his temple and heard some mumbling.

“I’m going on a run, I’ll be back. Okay?” Nodding a couple seconds later after the question sunk in, Leo gives him a quick peck on the lips and buries himself back into the couch.

When he wakes up Finn still isn’t back, his own phone is dead, and it's cold. He sets his feet on the ground after sitting up and a shiver runs through his body. Wrapping his arms around himself he walks to his new room and pulls on his thickest socks, that just happen to have a hole that his big toes catches on. He also decides to change into his one pair of sweats, the Lions ones from the hockey game, and the sweatshirt he wore with them. Putting the hood up and pulling it tight so just his face isn't covered, tying a little bow he doesn’t care how he looks, he’s warmish now.

Wandering into the kitchen and plugging his phone into an outlet in the island, he texts the boys asking what they want to eat, turning on the oven would feel nice. While he's waiting for a response he decided to look around. He walks into the living room where he was just napping to look at all the pictures Finn has of his team, family, friends and him and Logan.

Smiling he picks up a picture frame with Finn on some guy's back, Leo thinks his name is Kasey if he remembers properly. They are in a fountain but only Kasey is wet. He sets it down and picks up a picture that is not in a frame but just laying on the table. Odd. It is of Finn and Logan, they look younger and Logan has a blonde streak in his hair. They are smiling wider than Leo has ever seen them smile. Finn has his arm around Logan’s shoulder and Logan has his arm around Finn’s waist.

Their cheeks are pressed together. It’s sweet. Leo turns the picture over and reads what is written on the back.

‘The year I found the one.’

Leo smiles and sets the picture back down, walking over the wall that has pictures literally taped to it. He makes a mental note to buy some frames. He is taking in all the smiles of people he didn’t know, a man looking like Finn and Finn actually headbutting in a picture makes him laugh.

He hears his phone ding with a text notification, he makes his way over and notices the corner of a picture sticking out from under the couch. He pauses in his path and bends down to pick it up. It’s folded, but it’s a picture of Finn and Logan at the bonfire that Leo took them too. Leo unfolds the side of the picture and realises… there is a crease over his own face.

Ouch.

He folds the crease again and sees how it completely cuts him out of the picture. Leo actually has this same picture in the back of his phone case. Suddenly that tiny drop of doubt becomes flooding water filling up his head. Putting the picture down on the counter after he walks back over to the phone.

He opens his messages to the boys needing steak for dinner… maybe… Did they forget? He sighs and feels the doubt flooding from his brain to his heart. Shaky hands start some music to hopefully distract himself from the smell and texture of meat. Clicking his phone off he starts working on dinner.

Finn and Logan walk in the apartment together, laughing and still sweaty from the run that Logan joined Finn half way through. Taking off their shoes and setting Logan’s bag by the door, a heavenly smell fingers their nose holes.

They share a look of confusion for a moment when they realize the smell is actually steak… They thought Leo would have gotten the joke but maybe not. Maybe the ‘lol’ and ‘lmao definitely’ weren’t obvious enough. They make their way to the kitchen and hear the music and the sizzle of a pan.

They turn the corner to see Leo, looking rather sad. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks slightly green, he is watching a small steak cook in a pan with no emotion in those normally challenging eyes. His hair looks like he has ran his hands through it and gripped it so it is standing wildly on his head. His hood is tied but not on his head. He is slightly shivering from either it being cold or something else.

Finn was the first to approach him. Resting his hand gently on Leo’s as they hold the spatula with a death grip, he takes the tool away and tosses it towards the sink and having no clue where it landed. Logan has taken it upon himself to turn off the stove and move the pan off the heat.

“Leo?”

“Are you using me?” Leo just blurts out what he is thinking and automatically regrets it from the look of hurt on Finn’s face and the look of anger on Logan’s.

“Let's talk about this while we clean these.” Finn holds up Leo’s hand to inspect the tiny knife cuts he accidently got from chopping onions. Being pulled towards the bathroom, Leo is told to sit on the counter. He does. Logan takes the peroxide from Finn and wets a couple of cotton balls with it.

Scrunching his nose as Logan dabs his small nicks he looks up at Finn who is holding two boxes of bandages, one box is Bob the Builder theme and the other is Hello Kitty. Smiling Leo nods towards the Hello Kitty ones.

“What makes you think we are using you?” Leo zones out for a second, thinking about the song that is still playing in the kitchen and how they need to turn the music off. “Leo.” He remembers that he was being asked a question and clears his throat.

“I don’t know, It’s just that you guys were already together before I came into your relationship. I just feel like maybe I’m just here to piss people off or as some… I dunno fetish maybe. I know it hasn’t been super long but I thought that maybe you would have one or two pictures of me. And I saw the folded one where it’s folded over me…” He is avoiding looking at Logan at all costs.

“I can’t speak for Logan,” Finn cups his cheek and makes him look at him. “But I really really like you, and I’m definitely with you, for you.” Smiling at him Leo lets himself be kissed and melts into it. Pulling away they both look towards Logan, who seems to be lost for words.

“I can’t believe you would think of us like that!” Finn gives him a warning look and Logan takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I just- I’m not good at this type of stuff. I’m really bad at expressing my feelings and emotions, usually I show them in other ways.” He takes Leo's hand and plays with his fingers. “I’m sorry I just snapped a second ago, I’m used to Finn speaking for the both of us… but I’m realizing that makes us ‘one’ in this relationship when obviously there are two of us that really want you.” Leo smiled a little and lifted Logan's hand to his lips giving it a few kisses.

“I really like you too, Lo.” he smiles the tiniest smile and turns to look at Finn. “I like you too.”

Logan and Finn lean in to kiss Leo’s cheeks at the same time. Smiling, Leo lets himself receive the affection without worrying if it's real.

He can worry when he is alone.

[elanormcinerney]

Taylor Swift | Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Alice Notley | Songs for the Unborn Second Baby

[soartfullydone]

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose Riven/Delethil

A super late Whumptober prompt, but I couldn’t not write this AU.

*

With a few quick words from Riven, it was over. 

Eravin felt the weight on his shoulders lift for a moment even as the knot in his stomach grew ever tighter. Riven’s clap on his back had not been warm. Like her speech, it was clipped, for she was unable to conceal the suspicions which had been brewing for days after leaving Aeranth. But it was done. Delethil—and by extension the wood elves—would be supplied the weapons and armor Thanescourt had promised. They would have their glorious revolution.

Now all Eravin and Saoirse had to do was haul their arses back to Lunhaven before the shipment arrived and all hell broke loose. He turned to Riven, surrounded as she was by the Minister’s associates and her traveling party: a badger shifter, a moon elf sorceress, and two dragonborns that were like night and day from each other. Eravin wanted to say something to her before he left, but she wanted explanations and there were none he could offer. He followed Saoirse as she slipped out the door, all the words clogged like a lump in his throat.

Back on the city streets, Eravin and Saoirse prepared their horses for more travel and hard riding in silence, thoughts of the future churning in their heads. Eravin’s hopes were tinged with dread at the necessary measures that were to come. It was too much to hope that Luntower and his ilk would take their coup peacefully. But greater still was the regret.

The form of that regret appeared with her arms crossed and teal eyes narrowed on him as Eravin rounded his horse.

“Riven!” Eravin exclaimed, surprised to see her. His tone turned sour, suspicious. “What’re ye doin’ here?”

“Ya didn’t even stick around to say goodbye,” she replied, accusatory. “Why the rush?”

“Because I want to go home.”

“Right. Back to yer tree.” If possible, she sounded even more dry and skeptical than yesterday when she’d cornered him in the noodle shop, trying to convince him to tell her what was going on. Eravin had almost broken his silence, seeing how upset she was getting, but he’d remembered his promise to Del, and that was something he wouldn’t break. She continued, leaning an arm on his horse’s flank. “Has nothing to do with whatever I just agreed to, does it?”

Eravin looked stonily back at her then addressed the horse. “Go back to yer friends, lass. And… And remember what I said. Keep traveling, like ye always wanted. Don’t come home for a while.”

He swung himself up into the saddle. A beat later, he was nearly dropping the reins as Riven responded, “No,” and climbed up behind him. The horse danced and whinnied in protest at the sudden weight of her in the saddle, and Eravin was delivering his own verbal protests, his face blazing.

“No,” Riven repeated over him, “I’m going back to Aeranth. I’ve decided. I let the others know, and they understand. They’re fine adventurin’ without me, and I wanna see about these weapons I won for ya and Del.”

Eravin’s stomach dropped out from the bottom. Shite. One quick glance at Saoirse’s unimpressed expression told Eravin he wasn’t getting any help with this. In fact, she was kicking her horse forward and riding through the crowd, heading for the gate. 

Get a move on, Saoirse’s deliberate body language seemed to say. Before the lass gets any clever ideas. 

Twisting his head behind him, Eravin said, “Lass, please. Stay here at least. Ye donnae want to see—”

Riven’s arms looped loosely around his waist. Too much of their bodies were already touching, but something about this action felt incredibly sterile in comparison. Eravin nearly bit his tongue anyway. 

“Hurry up,” Riven said without any emotion. “Or they’re gonna beat us home.”

Having no choice except to knock Riven off the horse and wind up with a knife in his back in the process, Eravin urged the horse forward. Riven’s body rocked against his in time with the horse’s gait, but her arms around him stayed loose, and she made no further attempts at conversation. Eravin didn’t either. He focused on keeping the horse moving, on putting Thanescourt behind him, and nothing else.

But soon, even attempts to keep his mind empty couldn’t work. The dread and regret he felt was tenfold now that Riven was here, returning to Aeranth with him when she should’ve stayed behind in Thanescourt where it was safe. Del won’t hurt her, he told himself as the horse broke into a steady canter. He won’t he won’t he won’t.

But he could. And he might if she chose to roughen a smoothed course. Eravin didn’t want to know the full scope of what Delethil was capable of, but he had a terrible suspicion that he was mere days away from finding out. 

*

Aeranth’s trees swallowed them with no fanfare. Riven had twisted herself into knots, imagining a million and one different things happening as soon as they’d left orc lands. Instead, nothing happened at all.

It didn’t make the nerves vanish. Eravin and Saoirse drove their tired horses on with grim determination rather than bolstered confidence. They had to. Before entering the forest, they had spotted the first team of horses—fresh and strong—on the distant horizon, pulling a large metal supply wagon behind them. Thanescourt had caught up, and nothing Riven had tried to delay her wood elf escorts further had worked.

She spotted the first scout a few leagues farther out of Lunhaven than she had expected to find, high up in a pine. No identifiers of what moon elf family she reported to. When Saoirse delivered a sharp, two-fingered salute, the scout whooped, stood, and leapt to another tree, then another until she was out of sight.

“Who was that?” Riven shouted over the galloping hooves into Saoirse’s ear. Her riding buddy for today was even more stiff than Eravin, but her glares seemed to come easier. 

Completely ignoring her question, Saoirse responded, “Won’t be long now.” To Eravin, she called, “I reckon he’ll meet us.”

Eravin jerked his head, glancing at Riven behind Saoirse. “Aye. He will.”

Riven gritted her teeth, fresh annoyance cutting through the awful bubbling in her gut. It simply didn’t matter how she phrased a question. With these two, it would go unanswered. But as morning crept into afternoon, Lunhaven got closer and closer. She would find out soon enough.

When Saoirse turned the horse off the path into wild, untamed woods, something told Riven, This is it. Though they were damp with sweat, the horses, Aeranth-bred and elven-trained, did not falter as they stepped through tangled underbrush, over roots, and around trees great and small. 

Soon, the first wisteria tree came into view, its purple flowers in bold, full bloom amongst the green, seeming to hover dreamily in the air. It was like parting a curtain. All at once, they were in a new environ, surrounded by wisteria trees, their drapes of purple nearing Riven’s shade of pink hair as the afternoon sun filtered through the petals. The horses’ hooves were muted as they crushed fallen petals underfoot, but that wasn’t the only sense that was lessened. With so many trees with such large canopies, Riven hadn’t realized until it was too late that their trio was no longer alone.

Wood elves were everywhere, perched in the trees, leaned against trunks, crouched on the ground. They ranged in age from those just breaching adolescence to those just showing the first signs of age, though the vast majority were those whose ages were infuriatingly indiscernible to non-elves.

In the center of it all and talking to a group of them was Delethil. He was out of uniform, Riven noticed, and he turned toward them as soon as their horses breached through the trees, his expression brightening. 

Riven knocked a dangling vine of wisteria out of her face and rushed to get off the horse. Saoirse stopped her with a mean clamp on her arm and a warning look. Riven responded with a sneer and dug into Saoirse’s ribs. Fed up, the elder wood elf woman let go, but Riven immediately noticed there was no way she could get her feet in the stirrups or be able to kick her leg over Saoirse without her getting off the horse first. That left one option: sliding gracelessly off the horse’s rear end, and that’s exactly what Riven did. 

She landed flat-footed, needles shooting up her legs. Her thighs screamed their own painful protests as did her abs and buttocks, and Riven found herself taking a knee. 

A strong, long-fingered hand appeared in front of her face. One she’d recognize anywhere. Surrounded by so much purple, Delethil’s eyes appeared all the greener and were dancing with mirth. It almost hid the tension in the rest of his face. “Rough ride home?” he joked.

Riven took his hand and let him pull her back to standing. “I don’t think I like horses.”

“Ye just have to get used to ‘em.”

“I don’t think I want to.” She let him go quickly. Too quickly. His eyes were no longer dancing. They narrowed.

“Well?” said Delethil, but he was no longer speaking to her. “What news?”

“Scouts with shite-eatin’ grins not a big enough clue for ye?” Eravin responded as he dismounted. Saoirse did the same and led both horses away.

“Aye, sure they are.” Delethil clapped Eravin on that tender part between neck and shoulder, bringing his head conspiratorially close. “But I want to hear it from my best mate first.”

Eravin stiffly nodded. “It’s done.” A pause, and then he added in an odd tone, “Riven’s the one who gave the word.”

“My lass did?” Delethil spun toward her, that smile returning to beam on his face. “But of course ye did. Always were one of us! Knew it from the first, I did.”

To Riven’s ears, there was a hollow ring to Delethil’s words. In truth, Riven felt less wood elf in this moment than she had in a long, long time. By the knowing, energized looks on the faces surrounding her, she was acutely aware that she was the only one here who didn’t understand the full scope of what was happening. 

She crossed her arms against her chest, attempting to appear assertive instead of afraid or embarrassed. “Aya’s Touch bought ya a favor with Thanescourt. Weapons and armor. Except, ya already have those,” she said, eyeing the dagger sheathed on Delethil’s belt. “So why do ya need more?”

Eravin raised his hands in a defensive gesture the second Delethil threw him a glance. “I dinnae tell her shite, so donnae look at me.”

“And Saoirse never so much as told me g’mornin’,” replied Riven, taking a step forward. “The Minister said what the favor was when I asked. Just had ta throw yer name around and a bit of authority.”

Delethil’s expression was a cross between impressed and irritated. It smoothed out into acceptance. “Well, should’ve known a clever lass would be able to figure it out. And now that you’re back, I can tell ye the rest. Like I always planned.”

“It’s the only reason I came home.”

“Really? The only reason, is it?”

Riven ignored that question. “What did ya plan on telling me that ya couldn’t ever tell me before now?”

Whatever Delethil was about to say was interrupted by a sudden commotion at the front of the wisteria tree garden. The draft horses pulling the supply wagon had arrived. The human driver called for Delethil as wood elves swarmed both wagon and horses.

“I’ll handle it,” Eravin responded gruffly, stepping away.

“Get the archers armed first,” Delethil ordered—and it shocked Riven again to hear that tone coming from him. What was unmistakably an order as opposed to a sly suggestion or an easy acquiescence. She couldn’t deny it any longer. Whatever was happening, Delethil was the leader of it all, if not the cause.

“What’d’ya need archers for?” asked Riven in a small voice. “Have there been more drow on the border? Is that it?”

She was giving him every opportunity to lie to her. She knew that, and she didn’t want lies, but at the same time, she didn’t know if she was ready for the truth either.

“Riv, darling.” That term of endearment threw her more than his arm around her shoulders as he brought her into his confidence. He’d never called her that, but before she could determine if she was being condescended to or not, Delethil said, “What you’re seeing here is the result of years of patience and hard work. My kith and kin, still disenfranchised but now armed with courage and—more importantly—the will ta take back what’s theirs. And I couldn’t have done it without ye.”

“What?”

Delethil waved a hand before them, encompassing the amount of weapons being distributed, the high-quality armor being donned. As he did, a second supply wagon appeared, this time with a gnomish driver, and the wood elves cheered her, galvanized. “Look at them! Like wee babes whose Candlenights came early. Bet Luntower will wish he’d made a friend of ye after all is said and done.”

Riven narrowed her eyes. “Like you did?”

His arm around her tightened into an embrace. “Best gamble of my life, lass!”

He was talking about the favor with Aya’s Touch, but Riven’s head was whirling, remembering the span of their friendship. Not only how much freedom he’d given her over her other guards but also how freely her words to him had always been. How many times had she shared Circle knowledge with him that she shouldn’t have, just because they were friends and she trusted him? Had all that been part of his gamble, too?

Riven stepped out of his side-hug. “How long? How long have ya been planning for this?”

“Oh, a few decades now? I’ve lost count.”

“That’s a convenient answer.”

“And what other answer were ye expectin’, love?”

Her eyes flew to his, shocked, but Delethil didn’t appear remotely playful like his speech implied. Riven let that rabbit hole pass her by, even though her heart begged her desperately to fall down into it. Cooly, she asked, “So what’s the plan, then? You and yours are going after Luntower?”

“Luntower’s just one head. If this is gonna work, we need all of ‘em.” 

She stared at him for a beat too long. “The Circle? Ya want ta attack the whole Circle?” Riven covered her mouth, stifling a hysterical laugh. “I never knew ya were this mad!”

“Ye sound like Eravin, stop it,” Delethil dryly replied. He began to circle her, coming around to her right side. “We have the advantage here, thanks to ye. Luntower’s waitin’ for a promise from Thanescourt that we collected on instead. We have the numbers, and we have the means to surprise them before they can regroup. If all goes well, we’ll be able to overthrow the Circle overnight and still have time to break our fast in the morning.”

“And if it doesn’t go well?”

“Then I expect we’ll be preparin’ for a few funerals.”

Riven’s stomach was having its own riot. A pre-show for the one ahead that Delethil was describing in such loving detail. Questions crowded in her head. How had he gotten involved with this? What was the endgame? How far was he willing to go to achieve it? What came out was, “But, Del, without the Circle, Aeranth won’t have any leaders.”

“Sure it will, lass! Once the moon elves are gone, we’ll take over.”

“We? You mean…” She scanned the crowd dubiously, wondering which among them had a clue about governing. Certainly not the group whose archers were currently busy throwing apples into the air and performing wild trick shots amidst raucous cheers and jeers.

Delethil’s grand sigh brought her attention back to him. “Aye, I know it’ll be a tall order—and I’ll lose much of my coveted free time.” He brought a hand graciously to his chest. “But if Aeranth needs ruling, then I shall rule her. Until such a time as we find a more suitable replacement, of course.”

Riven shook her head, trying to knock some sense into what she was hearing. It didn’t work. “Why… Why didn’t ya tell me any of this? Why did ya wait until now?”

“Well, I wanted to tell ye. Of course I did! But in the end, I figured it’d be such an unfair burden to put upon ye.” His sympathy was like syrup, thick and rich. She’d never liked the taste or stickiness of the real stuff, and something bothered her about Delethil’s delivery. It sounded too practiced, yet… His eyes were so sincere, imploring her to understand. 

“Ye were so young when we first met, so that time wasn’t right,” he noted, and even the hand he extended to her was sympathetic. A helping hand. “And as I was around ye as ye got older, I saw all the expectations bein’ placed on ye—which, yet another reason for moon elf supremacy to end, eh? In the end, there just wasn’t a right time besides now, which I vowed to myself to do as soon as ye returned home. And I kept my word, didn’t I?”

“Oh, so sparing my feelings? That was your primary concern? Do ya think it worked?”

“Well, I supposed ye could be takin’ it better, but ye could also be takin’ it a lot worse.” His sly annoyance was there and gone in a blink, replaced by businesslike practicality. “But no, yer feelings weren’t my only reason, darling. Maybe they would’ve been if ye weren’t still livin’ under yer da’s roof—”

The reminder was a punch to the gut. “Da! Oh, I need to get home! I gotta—!”

Riven started running, but she didn’t make it two steps before Delethil’s hand clamped around her arm, forcing her to a stop. “Not so fast, lass.” 

“Not so—? Del, yer talkin’ about taking over, and my da’s there, defenseless. I need to protect him, so let me go!”

“The head on you! Erosen holds no office. He’s no threat to us, lass, so quit your worrying.”

“You quit being thick! Anything could happen if it comes to fightin’. Da might do something stupid or one of yours might, thinking vengeance against an elf who can’t rightly fight back is a good time.” The heat and retribution in her glare was just as sincere as his. “I’m not gonna sit here and let that happen, so let—go.”

“Riven,” Delethil replied, impatience rising. “I cannae risk ye tipping the moon elves off, even unintentionally. You’ll stay with us, where I can look after ye; I’m still yer guard, aye? Your da will be safe as houses, I give ye my word.”

Maybe a few short weeks ago, Riven would take Delethil at his word, utterly doubtless and believing. But the reality unfolding around her had shown her what his word was worth, full of evasions, omissions, and covered-up truths, and her pure faith in him was no more. Maybe that’s why no matter how genuine he sounded, it sounded wrong to her. He’d proven to her he could act a certain way and not mean it. Hell, he’d done so in front of her da so many times, pretending to be the gracious wood elf who knew his place but free with his criticisms whenever Riven complained about her da in private.

Aye, Riven and her da did not get along, had so many differences they made her dizzy to think of some days. But they’d never fix them if she let anything happen to him, and he was the only da—the only family—she had. Riven wouldn’t forsake him now or let him face a hostile takeover alone. Delethil had all these people, didn’t he? All these friends she’d never known about. He would be fine. He… didn’t need her. 

“—make ye feel better,” Delethil was drawling, “I’ll even send someone ta—“

“Del,” she interrupted with a hand on his chest. Unbelievably, he stopped talking, the grip around her wrist loosening as he took in her face so close to his. His gaze melted, his smile came easy and indulgent, and Riven felt the rush of it all in her stomach. She wanted to howl at the injustice of discovering this truth between them right as both of their lies were about to break it into pieces. “You’re not listenin’. I already volunteered.”

She cut him. A line of red burst open across his bicep, not especially deep. The real insult was that she’d used his own dagger to do it, drawing the blade and attacking in a blink. His grip fell away in instinctual surprise as his feet carried him back and hers away. Then Riven was running as fast as she could through the veils of wisteria, shoving past wood elves before they realized what had happened. That the dagger still clutched in her hand belonged to their leader and not to her. 

Mid-run, she started at hearing Delethil’s clear, angered roar for someone to capture her. 

“Do not harm her!” he finished. 

Another voice shouted, “And ‘ow the ‘ell are we supposed ta do tha’?”

Riven didn’t pause to find out. Desperation and new fear spurred her on. He wasn’t letting her go. She thought he would let her go, would decide she wasn’t worth it. 

She willed her legs to pump harder, to no avail. Riven was at a disadvantage, her usual speed compromised. Her muscles were stiff and sore from days of hard riding she wasn’t used to, and her body felt sluggish and less willing to do as she commanded as a result. Several sets of footsteps already dogged hers, their desperation in a direct war with hers. 

Da, was her last thought before she was tackled to the ground, rough hands pinning her there, a rock cutting into her stomach. 

Delethil’s dagger glinted in the grass a few feet away. Riven knew it for a lost cause, so she raced to draw one of her own.

“No, ya don’t!” a stranger’s voice growled over her, half-frustration, half-fear. He wrenched her arms behind her back and held her down, all but ignoring her thrashing. 

Riven caught a glimpse of him: olive skin and brown hair and wide, wide blue eyes. A face she’d seen before but had never taken the time to commit to memory. “Lass, quit havin’ a lark, or I’ll—“

She didn’t wait for him to carry out whatever threat he could think of. Spotting Delethil closing in, Riven decided to enact the threat herself, remembering his words. Do not harm her. 

Like a wounded animal, Riven screamed. It was the kind of scream you heard when someone’s arm was wrenched out of its socket or if a rib was kicked in. The elf’s hands flew from her like she’d scalded him. He stammered, “I-I swear I didn’t—!”

His weight immediately left her. Uninjured, Riven clawed herself to her feet and fell into a full-tilt sprint. She dodged the grasping hands of other elves. Hurtled away from the sight of Delethil “disciplining” the elf he’d believed had disobeyed his orders and hurt her. She would’ve felt sorry for him, would’ve paused in shock at seeing Delethil display such base violence toward one of his own, but her brain wouldn’t let her. It only asked her, What will he do to you if he catches you? Riven needed no more inspiration to push everything away that didn’t involve escaping. 

When she felt the first burst of pain in her left leg, she deliriously believed it was a muscle cramp. Now? Of all times? On the next step, however, she crumpled, her leg refusing to support her as hot, stabbing pain threatened to rip her apart. Her cry of pain was absolutely real then. 

Inspecting her leg with a shaking hand proved what her brain had been too slow to accept. It wasn’t a cramp. She’d been shot, an arrow protruding from her calf, the head buried deep. The slightest graze seared her vision with white, and she fell into a fetal position in the grass and dirt. 

Delethil slowly spun a bow between his hands as he walked unhurriedly toward her. Her vision blurring, Riven watched him hand it to another elf without looking at them. 

He tsked at her. “Oh, lass, look at ye. I dinnae want it to come to this.” He crouched down next to her, placidly looking at the spot where the arrow was embedded into her flesh. “But ye had to go and force my hand.”

“You—you shot me!” Maybe if Riven said it enough times, she would believe it. “You shot me.”

“Aye, and ye tried ta stab me, dinnae ye? Reckon that makes us even.”

Through a clenched jaw and tears, she asserted, “You. Shot. Me.”

His answering grin was more teeth than smile. “It should teach ye not to miss next time.” 

With a vicious jerk, Delethil pulled the arrow free. Riven screamed, unprepared for the violence of it, and her body reflexively curled farther in on itself.

“Delethil!”

Eravin sounded out of breath as he ran up to them, though that was impossible. There was no sweat beading on his brow—in fact, he looked uncharacteristically pale—and if Riven raised her head further, she would still see splashes of purple from the wisteria trees peeking through the green. She had not run far.

“What?” said Delethil, sounding bored and unhurried. Yet he kept a keen gaze on Riven as Eravin talked, pinning her there more effectively than any arrow.

“A few—” Eravin cleared his throat, attention passing anxiously from the arrow Delethil toyed with between his hands and the blood blooming into a dark, wet stain on Riven’s tights. “A few of the lads wanna know if it’s time ta start staggerin’ back. They’re, er, they’re ready.”

“Aye, I reckon they should get back to their posts and relieve a few others. They know where to stash the stuff that’ll raise hairs. Although”—here, Delethil sent Riven a too-sharp smirk—“our moon elf betters are notorious for not noticin’ what’s going on right in front of them.”

He may as well have brought the arrow down somewhere else. Yet the pain and mortification that stabbed through the heart of her didn’t keep her paralyzed; they galvanized her. Riven struggled to brace her weight on her forearms. She’d crawl home if she had to, or somehow convince herself she didn’t have an injured leg and just run, or—

Her planning came to an abrupt end as a new agony erupted against her temple. Riven was unconscious before her arms gave out under her and her head hit the ground.

*

Delethil had drawn a new dagger and slammed the hilt against Riven’s skull so fast, Eravin had no time at all to react. Numbly, he watched as she went limp, a red, angry knot already swelling near her hairline. Eravin stood frozen, caught between cold shock and fear, and the blood surging through his veins, screaming at him to act, to do something. 

Caught between his loyalty to Delethil and his feelings for Riven yet again. He would wonder at how they always seemed to cancel each other out, yet that wasn’t the real truth of it. Eravin chose Del every time, and this time was no different. 

Still, Eravin spoke up. His attempts to sound gruff, forceful, opposing, normal came out strained and weak. “Ya dinnae have to do tha’.”

Del laughed under his breath, humorless. “Have ya ever tried to get her to stay put when she doesn’t want to?”

“Have you?” Eravin shot back before he could stop himself, accusing.

“Haven’t needed to, ‘til now.” Delethil’s head suddenly snapped up. He fixed a glare to the other elves still milling about, who weren’t making eye contact but hadn’t been sure if they were still needed to restrain a rogue moon elf. “Don’t you lot have better things ta do?”

They scattered, but Eravin remained. “Why did she run, anyway? What’d ya tell her?”

“The plan, or the bare bones of it.” Delethil ran a hand through the unbound strands of his hair, sighing. “She got it into her head that she needed to protect her da.”

“From who?”

“Us,” Delethil deadpanned.

The answer took Eravin aback, but a second later, it clicked. 

“Now, I like the lass,” Delethil continued, “but sometimes her logic takes less of a leap and more of a merry jaunt in seven-league boots.”

“She wasn’t wrong, though,” Eravin argued.

“Ach, Erry, not now.” Delethil reached and gathered Riven, unconscious and hurting, into his arms.

The reminder was a strike of flint, igniting Eravin’s anger. “And ye dinnae have ta do this to her, either.”

“I’ll not risk everything we’ve worked toward,” responded Delethil coldly, “on her panicked whims or your soft heart. Not now, at five minutes past the eleventh hour.” When Eravin’s scowl didn’t abate, Delethil’s own leash on his temper slipped. If Delethil weren’t standing with his arms full of Riven, Eravin was convinced he would’ve received a good shoving. “We’ve had training accidents that’ve been worse than this, she and I, so stop looking at me like—”

“Aye, accidents! Hurting her on purpose is gonna leave more of a mark. And what if—what if ye had killed her?”

“It never once crossed my mind!”

“Accidents never—”

“If I wanted her dead, she would be. Instead, she’s safe, mostly sound, and out of the way, with no risk of letting anything slip to her da and his Circle friends before nightfall.”

And since Eravin did not want to arrive at Lunhaven’s estate, blindsided by nasty magical shite from over-prepared nobles and their wizard friends, he was forced to concede the point. Once the sun started to set, they would all have their places to be and their roles to fill. By that time, it would be fine—better, probably—for Riven to be at home, away from the fighting. Except…

“We—ya cannae send ‘er back to Erosen like this.” Eravin masked a wince upon noticing Riven’s head injury was darkening with bruising.

“She’s not going back to Erosen.” Delethil walked past Eravin, either not noticing his stunned expression or not caring. “Where is your horse? I’m borrowing it.”

“Where are ye takin’ her, then?” Eravin asked when he’d brought the horse around. The brown mare appeared as exhausted as Eravin felt.

“So many questions today!” Delethil exclaimed once he’d lifted Riven onto the saddle. Strapping her down, he said, “Couldn’t be more like the sods who just follow my orders?”

“Aye, I’ll do that once your orders don’t sound mad as a wood sprite.”

“As far as Erosen is concerned, his lovely, headstrong daughter is out of the country, adventurin’ with her new friends.” Satisfied with his work, Delethil stepped into the stirrup and swung onto the horse behind Riven, his arms bracing her as he took the reins. Eravin ignored how peaceful Riven looked as her head rolled to rest against Del’s chest, her bruise hidden from him. “I’d prefer he keep believing it. Not that he would be capable of it, but he’s less likely to do something stupid if he doesn’t know she’s here.”

“Right.” Eravin worried his jaw for a moment, deciding. “I’ll guard ‘im then. Make sure he stays in line.”

Delethil’s expression turned calculating. Eravin didn’t realize how much he would hate seeing that look directed solely at him until now. Delethil kicked the horse forward a few steps until he was looking straight down at Eravin from a long way up. “Spent a fair bit of time on the road together, the two of ye. Did ye get a little fond of her, Erry?”

“What? No! I—” Eravin flushed red as an autumn sunset. “Ye just… Ye wanted her uninvolved to protect her. If her da is all she’s worried about, then I’ll look after ‘im ‘til it’s over, so neither of ye has to.”  

“So long as you’re there when I need ye,” said Delethil, shrugging a shoulder. “Do as ye like.”

Eravin knew what he was expected to do then. Continue getting the wood elves prepared, keep groups coming and going until Delethil did what he intended with Riven and returned. He gave a semblance of a nod, and Delethil spurred the horse on. Eravin’s upper back was a line of knots, but none of them could compete with the one in his stomach.

Somehow, it hadn’t lessened at all since arriving. Aye, in such a short time, it had only gotten worse.

*

Riven didn’t wake until she sensed a presence hovering over her and something cold snapping around her wrist. She reacted as sensibly as anyone else in that moment, pulling back sharply from the cold and striking out.

One of her feet connected with something fleshy, and air blew across Riven’s face. “Ach, fuck me,” a familar voice squeezed out. 

Riven’s eyes opened to behold Delethil, grimacing and holding a hand over his stomach, still half-suspended over her. It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing, what was happening. Her head felt like it was full of rocks, gritty and dense, as pain flared over her left eye with every frantic beat of her heart. Her calf muscle was also tense and aching. Standing out against her black tights was a white bandage wrapped tightly around her leg. Instinctively, she inspected her head to find a nice, tender bump, but before she could puzzle that out, she moved her other arm and discovered she hadn’t escaped the cold after all.

An iron cuff held her wrist captive and a matching chain extended from it, dangling over the side of the bed.

Hang on, bed?

This wasn’t how Riven had ever imagined a scene like this going.  

She sprang off the bed like it had burned her. Her injured leg made her clumsy—or maybe it was her head. She stumbled halfway across the room before catching herself against the wall beside a cluttered desk, the chain clinking after her but not yet pulling taut.  

Delethil, of course, followed after her. “Easy there, lass. You’re a wee bit worse for wear.”

“Oh, I wonder why!” With her free hand, she grabbed the chain and gave it a mighty jerk. It extended between them in mid-air, and Riven found it was attached to the bedpost. “Ya can’t be fucking serious.”

“Deadly.” He exhaled. “Riv, I can’t have ye doing anything stupid—”

“Protectin’ my da isn’t stupid!”

“—right as all hell’s about to break loose. Ye mad thing, listen.” He, too, grabbed the chain and yanked it toward him. “This isn’t permanent.”

“Damn right it’s not! I’ll be out of this in five minutes!”

“Five whole minutes, that’s how long it’s gonna take ye?” Delethil snidely responded, unimpressed. He nodded at her wrist. “Look again. Not your normal cuff, that.”

It wasn’t. Now Riven could see the cuff all the way around, she noticed two vital things. There was no keyhole to pick or seam to break. The entire surface of the cuff was smooth. 

“Not a bad thing, havin’ a mage-type owe ye a favor, hm?”

Bracing her back against the wall, Riven stood tall and declared, “I’ll break my thumb then.”

“Ach, don’t do that. Your lovely hands don’t deserve the abuse.”

“No, just the rest of me, it seems.”

Delethil’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Would ye have stopped otherwise? I would’ve liked to have ye with me, guardin’ my back. But ye’ve turned out to be a wild card, and I can’t afford that in the hand I’m playing.”

“It’s startin’ soon, isn’t it?” It had to be. The view out the window of the bedroom was a darkening evening, the tops of the trees slowly being swallowed by shadow. “Da won’t be near the Circle. He’ll be home. Ya can let me go now,” Riven reasoned, “and I’ll keep us both out of the way.”

Delethil met her entreatment with silence, his gaze on her half-lidded in suspicion. He released a rueful sigh. “I want to trust ye, Riv, I do.” Like a judge ruling a verdict, he pronounced, “But deep down, I know that’s a noble heart ye got. Whatever the stories claim, revolution’s no place for nobility. People are going to be hurt; it’s required. And ye’ll not be one of ‘em by being a bloody hero for the wrong person.”

Riven lunged forward a step, outraged. “You hurt me. What I don’t understand is, if I’m such a fucking inconvenience, why ye don’t just kill me and be done with it!”

“Do ye really not know, darlin’?” Delethil asked the question like he was warding her off, yet he advanced all the same. “Ye want answers? Fine. Here’s one.”

Riven’s hand found the hilt of a dagger still strapped to her belt, but Delethil was too quick. He took her face in his hands, and Riven braced for more pain, but it never came. Instead of talking in circles or telling her more lies, his mouth pressed against hers, hard, incessant, and a little desperate. Riven gasped, and it was enough for his tongue to slip between the seam of her lips, the expert touch of a thief who had finally gained access to the most forbidden of places. Delethil kissed her repeatedly, holding her fast, and Riven’s eyes fluttered shut in bliss. She was helpless against the heat of his hands and mouth, against the silkin feel of his lips, against the idea of him wanting her after she had been pining after him for so long. Between them was a storm she could not outrun, and she didn’t want to. She wanted to live in the eye of it.

Delethil tilted her head back to deepen the kiss, and when she effortlessly obeyed, he hummed his approval into her mouth.

His dark satisfaction was like nicking herself with her own knife. The blood rushing through her veins brought her throbbing head and injured leg back to her attention, and with it, all the things the elf before her had said and done. Riven shoved Delethil off of her with a snarl, the force of her push strong enough to cause her to stumble back into the wall. The chain attached to the iron cuff around her wrist rattled as it ran against the wooden floor, and Riven felt so stupid.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this now. I—” She cut off her yell, fisting a hand in her hair as she tried to hold back tears. Delethil loving her back… She’d wanted it so badly for years, and this? This was too good to be true. He’d lied to her, he’d used her, he’d shot her, and now he was keeping her captive! 

She shook her head fervently, ignoring the flash of hurt and surprise that cut through his normally confident expression. Rejection was not something he’d anticipated. Good. With a glare, she declared, “I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to get in good with me so ya can use me again, aren’t you?”  

“And what use would I have for ye once the fighting’s done and the country’s mine, lass?” Delethil asked with razor-sharp logic, though there was no missing the testy bite in his tone. “I’d love to know yer thoughts on the matter.”

“I don’t know! But it’s not like ya’d tell me about it, would you?”

At that, Delethil tore himself away from her, half-pacing the room as he cursed under his breath, his accent thickening with his ire. When he was done, he settled her with his own glare, and Riven bristled at the amount of distrust in that gaze. 

“Eravin has elected to guard yer da for ye,” he began, and the change in topic threw her for a moment. “Mind telling me what that’s about between the two of ye?”

“What d’ya mean? How am I supposed to know? It’s not like Eravin talks to me.”

“Is that so?”

“Aye, that’s so. He’s your best fucking mate, innit he? So go ask him.” Riven held herself at the ready. To fight or attempt to flee, she didn’t know. She was like a cobra making itself smaller so it could strike faster. “I donnae know ‘im. And I donnae know you.”

She didn’t know anything.

Delethil’s jaw worked. Riven even spied a tendon in his neck flexing and unflexing. He stood there like a man who was utterly at war with himself and was dissatisfied with how the fight was going.

“...I’ll be back,” he said at last before marching toward the door. “May we both find ourselves in better moods.”

Riven waited until she’d heard his steps advance down the hallway before peeling herself off the wall. She called after his back, “Aismere! I swear, if a single hair on my da gets hurt, I’ll never forgive ya.”

The vow stopped Delethil in his tracks. “Never, hm?” His long, auburn hair shifted as he looked at her over his shoulder. “There’s a lot of people I’m proving wrong tonight, darlin’. Ya sure ya want to be one of them?”

[cha-lyn]

Milk & Eggs - Fourteen

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1998

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings:  fluff and some angst (maybe) 

A/N:  What a ride. This is the Final Chapter of Milk & Eggs. I truly appreciate the feedback. Really - if i didn’t know people were reading this I would’ve never finished it. Thank you, Thank you all. 💛 I have some other stuff in the works so don’t go too far 😏

Master List // Previous Chapter 

- - - 

You spend the rest of the day catching up and planning the week with Grams. You’d have your usual bakes this week, as well as the Henderson twins’ sweet sixteen birthday cake and scones for a housewife the town over who was hosting a tea party. Once it’s all been delegated, you and Grams sit on the back balcony of the apartment with mugs of tea.

You break the comfortable silence with what’s bothering you. “Grams. Do you think Bucky and I are moving too fast?”

She thinks for a moment before answering. “I don’t think it matters if you know how you feel about someone and they feel the same way. Your grandpa and I dated for three months before he proposed and we were married three weeks later. Some say we rushed into it, but we both knew what we felt and we were on the same page.” She stirs some more honey into her tea. You smile. 

Your grandpa was a distant memory for you--he’d passed when you were still young, but you remembered some things about him. He’d been a rancher and had several horses. The memories you did have of him were fond. He’d take you out to do chores with him-and at that time they were fun and you were more than willing. He spoiled you with hot chocolate behind your mom’s back and taught you how to shoot a gun.

“Looking back I would’ve married him in half the time,” she laughs. “Why the sudden concern about how fast you’re going?”

“I made a joke. I said he should get a dog and I’d come over more and he was like ‘You over all the time, come over anymore and you’ll have to move in.’ And then I choked on my coffee and there’s awkward tense silence and then he says he's joking…” you sigh, looking at Grams for guidance. She just chuckles at you. “Don’t laugh, Grams. We had this weird tense talk on the way back about defining our relationship and if we know each other enough and me not being able to see the future--”

“You never have been one to plan ahead, dear,” Grams interrupts. She catches your questioning look. “It’s true. You’d climb a tree effortlessly for the view and then all but lose your mind trying to figure out how to get down. You did things by the seat of your pants. But you always figured it out. You moved here pretty spur of the moment too, come to think of it.”

You chew your lip, “Ugh. That’s your cryptic way of telling me….” You pause and look to her to finish the thought. She laughs and shrugs, “Maybe it’s okay to not have it planned out. You two seem to have a good balance of making each other happy and being honest with each other.” 

You nod, but don’t respond.

—

The next evening there was a knock at 6:30 sharp. You shuffled down the stairs to meet Bucky, who was dressed in his nice jeans and a button up with a bouquet of lilies. Your favorite. 

“Hey slick,” he grinned at the sight of you. “You look beautiful. Got these for you and Sue,” he says handing you the flowers. 

You blush, “Thanks Buck. You look nice, too. Come on up.” You turn to lead him up the stairs, but he grabs your hand.

“Can we—can I just say something before we go up there?”

You nod, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair and you immediately think the worst.

“I really, really care about you. I’m sorry for how things went yesterday … I get what you mean about not seeing the future right now. When I was in the service, we lived day to day. We’d have plans and ideal outcomes, but then shit would happen and plans were just plans, so I get it. Nothing ever really goes as planned. I don’t need a label or a detailed plan for the future. I’m sorry I badgered you for one. I guess I just wanted you to know that I-I’m in this.” He waves his hand in between the two of you. “As fast or as slow as you wanna go, I’m in.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as his words sink in. You stand quietly for a minute, long enough for Bucky to start looking uncomfortable. “Bucky… I-”

“Oh hello James!” Grams’ voice calls down to the two of you. “You guys come on up, I’m taking the food out of the oven now.”

You see your out and start up the stairs, “Uh, Let’s go.”

Bucky sighs, defeatedly, but follows you up the stairs. 

Dinner was delicious, the conversation was much less serious with Grams present. Bucky insisted on doing the clean up--he made Grams relax and almost didn’t even let you help. When the dishes were done and dried, the conversation meandered until Grams let out a big yawn and bid the two or you goodnight. The silence that followed was deafening.

No sooner than Grams had shut her bedroom door, Bucky turns and asks, “Can we pick up where we left off?” You swirl the wine in your glass and nod slowly, but don’t answer so Bucky continues. “I’m in this. Wherever you want this to go and however fast.” Another stretch of silence as the two of you lean against the counter tops, it's getting awkward. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Honestly, there was so much of that with Spencer and then it all blew up in my face. I’m … scared to make plans again-- to have those kind of feelings again just for them to be ruined.” 

As you say it, it’s almost as if it replays in front of you. The initial swell of feelings when he touched you and kissed you. The late nights spent building imaginary houses and naming imaginary kids. But this time as the memories play back, they’re tainted. Soured with another memory, this one painful. You know Bucky isn't anything like Spencer, he’s proven that to you. 

As if reading your mind, Bucky breaks through your fog, “I’m not him. You know that right?” 

“Of course I know you're not him Buck-“ you sigh, planting your hands on your forehead. You had to make a choice and you know in your soul you can’t live with a life of what ifs. “So let’s do the damn thing.”

Bucky’s face broke into that blinding smile. “You sure?” 

“I’m sure I’d regret it if we didn’t try,” you say raising your glass.

Bucky clinks his beer to your glass, before leaning over to kiss you on the top of the head. “Let’s do the damn thing.”

---

Two months later

“Slick, what should I pack for this trip?” You hear hangers sliding as he searches for clothing in his closet. “Slick? I need help.”

You sigh, putting down your book and sliding off the bed. “What do you mean? We already ordered your suit for the wedding.” 

Bucky stands in his closet, shirtless in a pair of old grey sweats. “For all the other stuff we’re gonna do.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist. “Jeans, maybe a few nicer shirts. A hoodie. Bring your bathing suit-- our AirBnB has a private hot tub.”

Bucky hums, “Seems like you’ve planned this whole trip down to the minute. Please show me the itinerary.’

“Nope! I got big plans and they are top secret confidential.”

Bucky turns to face you, hands firmly on your hips. “I bet I can get them out of you.” You cock your eyebrow. “I was in the military, I know torture.” 

You throw your head back to laugh, but that was a mistake. Bucky starts assaulting your very ticklish neck with kisses. You try to push away but he has you in a vice grip.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he deadpans. His fingers find your sides and though you squirm, you can’t get away.

“You can’t break me,” you choke out between laughs. Bucky doesn’t believe you--Hell you don’t even believe you--so he increases his attack, zeroing in on an armpit. “Ah-st-stop. I can’t breathe.” 

Bucky stops immediately and you bolt out of the closet, “Liar!!” he shouts, following you out, laughing.

You’re trying to catch your breath as you sputter, “Finish packing. Please. We gotta get up early tomorrow to make it to the rehearsal on time.” 

Bucky narrows his eyes, “This is a trap. But fine. I’ll leave you alone. All night. No snuggles, definitely no sex.” 

You roll your eyes, “I know where the blankets are-- don’t you worry about me, worry about packing.” Bucky eyes you for so long you think he might attack again, but instead he turns back into the closet with a huff. 

---

You and Bucky left the next morning for Seattle, the both of you giddy for a weekend away. Once you hit the city, Bucky lets you drive to the quaint AirBnB you chose for the trip. It was a cute little mother-in-law cottage on one of Seattle's surrounding islands and it was right on the water. Bucky was itching to know your super secret itinerary, but you wouldn’t budge on the surprise you had planned for him. You promised he’ll know more after the wedding.

The wedding was gorgeous. Brad and Aaron were both so handsome and their vows made you bawl your eyes out, which just made Bucky pull you closer and kiss the top of your head gently. Spencer was there, a plus one of a mutual friend, but he kept his distance from you and Bucky, so the night succeeded in being very romantic and relaxed. You spent most of it in Bucky’s arms on the dance floor, which is exactly where you wanted to be. He was the last person you thought would have dance skills, but again he surprises you by being quite nimble on his feet. He twirls and dips you until you're both dizzy and in a fit of giggles. 

The next day, despite your busy late night, you and Bucky are up bright and early. Bucky was as excited as a kid at Six Flags, begging you to just break the surprise to him early. You refused of course- it was fun watching him squirm. Bucky questioned your every turn on your way to the surprise.

“So, where are we going?” he asks for the 30th time.

“Bucky. You will see when we get there,” you say smugly.

“I wanna know now.”

“It’s okay to want,” you retort. 

Ten minutes later, you turn into the parking lot of Seattle Whale Watch tours. You look at Bucky, “We’re here.” Bucky’s eyes are wide. 

“We’re going whale watching?” he blinks slowly. “How’d--you remembered? I said that forever ago!”

“Of course I remember Bucky. It was a dream of yours… I wanted to make it come true.”

Bucky just grinned. “You’re the best.”

Bucky’s practically leaning off the boat with the biggest grin ever on his face. It’s been a particularly busy day as whale traffic goes, so Bucky was elated to say the least. “This is amazing. Wow.” He turns to you. “Thank you, slick. I-That was better than I imagined.”

You grin, so pleased that he’s happy. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He pulled you to stand in between him and he railing, “I told you that you knew me,” Bucky said smugly in your ear.

You smile as you turn to face him, “You were right, Buck. But there is something about me that you don’t know.”

Bucky purses his lips, “Doubtful doll.”

You shrug, but continue anyway, “I love you.”

Bucky blinks. “Well shit. I did not know that.” Somehow, Bucky’s smile for you was brighter than it was for the whales and the sparkling blue of his eyes putting the ocean around him to shame. “I love you.”

- - - 

Taglist: as always thank you guys for the feedback/love. It’s SO appreciated. 💛

@notatallfriendly​  @thechaoticargonaut     @booktease21 @iamwarrenspeace  @titty-teetee  @harryngtonewithyourshit  @mcueveryday  @peakyrogers    @thedepressedsponge  @navegandoaciegas

@thefridgeismybestie

@basically-introverted 

[staysaneathome]

The Self-Preservation Society (1)

Des’ Daddy isn’t his Daddy anymore.

Des knows this because his family told him so. They’ve been whispering it into his ears, into his skin, into his tummy, with every quiet, soft step they take. Whispers of dusty, of spicy, of preserved, not sweaty and stinky and smoky like Des’ Daddy should be.

He thinks he’d know it even if they didn’t tell him though. Des’ Daddy went off to the wax museum with short hair, dark eyes, a lumpy eyebrow, and a grumpy frown. The man who came to find them and kissed his Mama at the butterfly exhibit has curly hair, freckles, a warm smile, and eyes so green Des’ family wanted to land on them, explore the vibrant flowers within.

But he is not Des’ Daddy, even though Mama likes him more. Even though Mama had got upset when Des was confused. Even though he swung Des up onto his shoulders in a piggyback ride that his Daddy never let him have. Even though he reads Des bedtime stories every night about birds piercing insects and bringing them back to the nest for their babies, even though he kisses Des’ forehead every morning and tells him to have a good day at school, even though he makes Mama laugh and put down the special juice to dance with him in the living room to Abuelita’s old tunes.

He is not Des’ Daddy.

And he knows Des knows this.

Des thinks he knows Des’ family knows this too.

His family whispers, predator, danger, predator, and Des tries to make himself look bigger. He’s messier, doesn’t cover his mouth to cough or blow his nose, doesn’t wipe his face at dinner or wash his hands after playing in the garden. Mama gets mad, and gets even madder when he doesn’t want to take a bath, because this is protection, this is defense.

Look, see how dirty and germy I am. You can’t eat me, or else you’ll get sick and die. Or I’ll taste really, really bad and you’ll wanna throw me up. So don’t eat me. Don’t even think about it.

But Des’ defenses don’t protect Mama. Mama doesn’t have a family like Des does, not yet, and she’s touching him so much to get rid of his protection, and she gets sick. She falls over in the middle of the day and has to be rushed to hospital. Des sits on a chair next to what is Not his Daddy and hears small snippets of big words like “cardiac arrest” and “cardenolides” and “overdose” and “overnight monitoring”.

The man who is not Des’ Daddy straps him into his car seat after the doctor tells him they’ll call with an update in the morning, and begins to drive.

“You did this, didn’t you Des?” He asks, in that mild way he does now. Nothing like the way Daddy used to yell, voice lowering and loudening until it sounded creaky with volume. Des wishes that he’d do that instead of this.

“Didn’t mean to.” He bites out, glaring down at his hands. One of his sisters perches on his clenched fist, opening and closing her wings softly and slowly. She’s very pretty, and her orange and black and brown wings feel like the gentlest kisses.

The man who isn’t Des’ Daddy nods, like this is perfectly normal. Like they aren’t driving past their house and out onto the motorway again, further and further away. “Of course you didn’t. Your mama loves you after all. It’s not your fault you can’t love her back properly.”

Des’s mouth drops open. “I can too.”

He’s very good at loving. He loves, loves, loves his Mama, his real Daddy, his Abuelita, his family. It’s why they came to him after all, when he fell from the big tree in the woods behind their house and everything hurt. They whisper they love him when they’re small and wriggling, when they’re quiet and growing, when they’re big and flying, and he whispers that he loves them too, because he does.

“No you can’t.” The hand that reaches out is faster than a bird.

It doesn’t feel like anything at first, as Des stares at his sister’s limp, crushed form in incomprehension.

Then the pain hits him and he opens his mouth in a wounded howl. It hurt him, it hurt him, the stranger hurt him, the predator hurt him, help, help, help.

His family come to his aid, filling the car, millions upon millions of beautiful orange, brown and black wings beating furiously around him. Protect, defend, beloved, ours, stay away, don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch—

The thing that is not Des’ Daddy laughs. It doesn’t even look away from the road as the poison drips down its face, doesn’t even blink as it lashes out and hurts more and more of Des’ family with every sweep of an arm. “You see? With all this inside you, Des, how could you love somebody? How could you love anybody? But don’t worry. We’re going somewhere where they can fix you up and make you aaaall better. Make you into the son Mama deserves, so you can love her properly. Don’t you want that? To love your Mama properly?”

Des can’t stop crying, reaches out and calls his family back to him. He doesn’t wanna go with the predator, but he doesn’t want his family getting hurt anymore either, he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

They’re scared too, he can feel them, even as they whisper beloved and we love you and be brave and ours as they wander over him, as their wings brush his skin in the gentlest of kisses and comfort.

Outside the car is getting brighter, big, big buildings with lots of lights zooming past like fair lights on a tea cup ride or a merry-go-round. It makes his head hurt, as more tears spill from his eyes and he tries to sniff past his runny nose. Some of his family move to the window, blocking out the lights that make him feel like he wants to be sick.

“Ssh, easy Des.” The stranger hushes, tone soothing and comforting, the same as when reading bedtime stories about the daddy bird bringing his babies pretty dragonflies and bluebottles and butterflies to eat. “We’re almost there. You’ll feel so much better once we’ve got all that nonsense out of you and fixed you up. You’ll love your Mama so much. Don’t you want to love your Mama?”

He shakes his head, sobs coming harder. He does love his Mama, but he doesn’t wanna go with the predator, with the Not-His-Daddy, doesn’t want to get hurt anymore, he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

Eventually the car stops. There’s a click from the front. A door opens and slams shut.

Des hopes for a second it’ll be home it’s stopped in front of.

But then the Not-Daddy opens the car door and reaches in to undo the straps of Des’ car seat. He’s smiling gently, soothingly. “C’mon Des. Time to go.”

Des screams.

He screams as the Not-Daddy pulls him out of the car and slams the door, crushing some of his family in the process. As he starts to drag Des towards the wax museum, smiling at everyone who passes by like nothing’s wrong, like Des isn’t wailing behind him.

Nobody even looks down at Des, not even like they do when he cries while in the shops with Mama. It’s like he’s not even there.

“No! No!! You’re not my Daddy, let me go! Let me GO!!” He tries to sit down, tries to drag his legs. His family swarm around him, wings beating furiously as they cling to the back of his shirt, to his ears, to his hair.

The Not-Daddy laughs, yanks him along, like everything he and his family are doing doesn’t even matter—

There’s a noise that can only be described as a Crunch.

Last Christmas, Mama sent Des’ Abuelita a little soldier man for her present. He and Mama stayed up so they could watch Abuelita open it on the computer while his Daddy snored, watch her admire his tufty white beard, his furry black hat, his shiny red coat and black boots. The soldier man had a little flap on his back, and when Abuelita pulled it up, the soldier’s mouth opened. Abuelita had put a walnut into it, and pulled the little flap down, and the walnut’s shell fractured open with a little snap that made Des jump and Abuelita laugh and croon at him through the screen.

That’s what The Thing’s jaws slamming shut on his Not-Daddy’s arm makes him think of, as it shatters the arm like the walnut’s shell.

The Not-Daddy shrieks, high and inhuman like a recorder blown wrong, and drop Des.

He falls back on his bottom, dazed as no longer being pulled along.

Only for the Thing that appeared from nowhere and bit the Not-Daddy to scoop him up and start running.

Des screams again, wriggling and fighting against the too tight too strong grip, screams for his family, for his Mama, for somebody to come save him.

The Not-Daddy is screaming too, yelling things like “STOP!! HELP! HELP!!” and “LET GO OF MY SON!!” Things that make all the people who’d ignored Des before turn around and stare, pull out phones, lunge out to stop the Thing that’s got Des.

But they can’t catch it. The Thing twists under and through grasping arms in a way that can’t be real, can’t be possible, making people slam into each other as it ducks between them to thunder down a set of stairs, Des’ family not far behind.

It leaps over the metal barrier, legs high and graceful like the horses on TV that Des’ Daddy liked to watch on weekends, making his tummy swoop like he’s missed a step climbing the stairs too fast.

It swoops even harder when it leaps and sliiides down the metal bit between the escalators, like Des has always imagined doing. He always thought it would feel like the big slide at the fancy park Mama has to drive to go to, or going down the helter-skelter on an itchy mat at the fair, fast and whizzy and fun with all the people and posters flashing past.

Des hadn’t thought it would be so scary, the down so sharp he’s sure he’ll topple forwards and crack his head open, sure he’ll slip and is falling from the Big Tree again, his tummy flailing like one of his family with a damaged wing, his throat cracking as his screams are torn from it.

He can only whimper once The Thing jumps off at the bottom and is running again, taking sharp turns through the nasty smelling tunnels until a train is in front of them and swinging itself not through the doors into one of the carriages, but up and over and down behind the little wall in front of the space separating them, caging Des in its impossibly bent and tangled limbs.

The train screeches and starts to pull away from the light of the platform.

The Not-Daddy is too far away to stop it, though his screams are still echoing through the tunnels, ringing in Des’ ears.

His family are not.

Des feels like crying as thousands of thousands of butterflies descend onto The Thing keeping him captive as the train whizzes off into the darkness, wings beat beat beating around him in time with their song of protect, defend, intruder, predator, thief, family, beloved, ours, defend, protect, don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch.

They cluster as the train picks up speed, clinging to him and to the Thing, gathered so thickly that Des can feel thin droplets of liquid seeping into his hair, into his clothes, onto his skin. He laughs, because this is his defense, his family’s defense, that feels as gentle and soothing as bathwater to him, but won’t to this thing, hadn’t to Mama.

The Thing tenses, muscles locking tight and spasming around Des. In the light of the carriage behind him, Des can see its eyes blinking rapidly, before squeezing shut tightly in pain. Yeah, serves it right for trying to eat him!

The Thing raises a hand and brings it down towards his head—!

Des recoils with a cry, praying that it won’t hurt even more of his family than the Not-Daddy did.

…?

There’s no hurt…?

Instead, it feels like The Thing’s fingers are just…sitting there? On top of Des’ hair? Not even on top of any of his family, trying to trap antennae or crush wings.

The fingers stay flat and gentle even as another spasm rocks through The Thing’s body, even as his family crawl over them to investigate.

Then, slowly, the fingers on Des’ hair begin to move. Back and forth, back and forth, very, very slowly and carefully. There’s no pressing down, no digging in, nothing.

It’s…stroking him? Like he’s a cat, or something?

The train slows down to a stop as it emerges back into the light. There’s a hiss as the doors open and people get on and off. Then a beeping as the doors hiss shut again, and the train speeds back off into darkness.

And through it all, The Thing just keeps stroking him. It doesn’t try to hurt his family, even as its eyes are screwed shut and its body flinches irregularly.

There are brightly colored bands on its wrists, glowing bright green and yellow in the dark. Lots of his family are clustering over them, investigating, seeing if there’s any nice nectar for them there.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Des shouts. Mama says it’s not polite to shout, but he can’t hear anything over the rushing of the train otherwise, and he’s very confused by this Thing.

The Thing doesn’t reply.

“HELLO?!” Des shouts, even louder. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

There’s a moment.

And then the Thing gives a sharp, jerky nod.

“OKAY, SO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Des frowns when The Thing doesn’t reply again. “EXCUSE ME, I ASKED YOU A QUESTION! CAN'T YOU TALK?!”

The Thing shakes its head tightly.

Oh. Now Des feels bad, like when Mama told him off for asking why Maisy from the park had that pink plastic thing in her ear, and wouldn’t play tag right unless you really pushed her. “I’M SORRY.” He yells, because that’s what Mama made him say to Maisy.

The Thing’s fingers go back and forth over his head again, so he thinks it’s alright.

“ARE YOU GOING TO EAT ME?!” Des asks, because that’s very important for him to know.

Shake, shake, shake.

Des nods, heaving a deep breath. It doesn’t smell very nice, but it helps make his heart not race, and he slumps against The Thing’s limbs. His family’s wings slow, and the liquid slowly stops dripping down onto them.

It’s okay. He’s not going to be eaten. They’re not going to be eaten. Everything’s going to be okay.

“ARE YOU TRYING TO RESCUE ME FROM MY NOT-DADDY?!”

Nod, nod, nod. The jerks going through the Thing’s body are stopping now, though it’s eyes are still squeezed shut.

“THANK YOU.” Des shouts, because his Mama raised him to be a polite boy. “SORRY ABOUT TRYING TO MAKE YOU NOT EAT ME AND MY FAMILY’S DEFENSE CAR-TE-NO-LIDS!”

The Thing nods again, though its brow has creased more. In pain or confusion, Des isn’t quite sure. It moves its hand back and forth again over his hair though, so he’s pretty sure he’s forgiven.

Des stares at The Thing closely, not that he knows it’s not going to eat him or hurt him.

It’s a very odd looking Thing, almost like if someone tried to make something that looked like a person, but didn’t get all the details quite right. It looks normal enough from the nose up, if a bit grubby and sweaty. It’s also dressed like a person, with a shirt and pants and a backpack and shoes, even if these clothes are very holey and too-big, like when Abuelita sends Des things ‘to grow into’ for Christmas.

The problem is that it’s got these weird dark lines on both of its cheeks that go down its neck, where its mouth can open really wide like Abuelita’s neat little soldier. Its arms and legs also bend a lot past the way Des’ can, like it’s plasticine or Hugo from the Playground’s really bendy Nutcracker Barbie ballerina doll.

His brothers and sisters perched on The Thing don’t tell him of the same dusty, spicy, preserved smells that came from the Not Daddy, but there is a scent of artificial, of not-organic that they communicate to him while wandering over The Thing’s jaw.

Then he notices something behind it.

There’s a tall teenager in the train carriage behind The Thing that’s staring down at them through the window, eyes wide and mouth open. The tall teenager has a big poofy cloud of hair that Des thinks is very impressive, and wants to smush between his hands, like a pile of bath bubbles.

There’s soft, wavy white stuff floating around the teenager, like stuff on top of the bathwater after all the bubbles have gone.

There’s so much floaty stuff that it makes it very hard to see anyone else in the carriage.

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” Des shouts at the teenager.

The Thing blinks at him, eyebrows raised. It lifts a hand and points to itself, as if to say, “who, me?”

“NOT YOU!” Des yells, exasperated. “THE BIG TEENAGER WITH THE BUBBLE BATH HAIR! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!”

The big tall teenager startles then, and lifts a hand and points to themself, much like The Thing did. The Thing twists its head all the way round like an owl in time to see the teenager with the bubble bath hair mouth “me?” at them.

“YES YOU. HONESTLY!” Des huffs. Why are teenagers and adults so slow all the time? And why can’t he twist his head round like an owl? It’s not fair.

There’s a moment of silence as the train slows down and pulls into the next station.

Then there’s the unpleasant swooping in his stomach again as the Thing hurls them over the train wall and onto the platform, somehow managing not to squish any of his family in the process and takes off running again.

There’s a loud “HEY!!” and over The Thing’s shoulder, Des can see the tall teenager with the poofy hair following them out of the carriage at a sprint, going through people as the floaty white stuff seems to make the people go see-through like ghosts whenever the teenager touches them.

One of his slower brothers, an older brother, is caught in the rapidly spilling floaty stuff as he tries to flutter up after them as The Thing runs up the stopped middle steps of the escalator, barely keeping up, and then—

Des feels cold. So, so cold, like after he fell from the big tree and was crying and no one was coming for him and he was scared.

He can’t see his brother. He can’t feel his brother.

He doesn’t want to talk to the tall teenager anymore.

“THE POOFY TEENAGER'S GAINING ON US!!” He yells to The Thing.

The Thing twists its head around to look again, but its feet keep running at full tilt. Des yelps as they slam into a cleaning man with a big yellow cart full of stuff, making him feel sick as The Thing pinwheels and hops to avoid falling over the now toppled cleaning man, who yells lots of bad words Mama tells him not to say after Daddy says them.

But when his head stops spinning, he watches as the big yellow cart rolls down the stairs, inexplicably gathering speed as it bursts through the barrier and zooms towards the top of the stopped escalator.

The stopped escalator that the tall poofy teenager with the bubble bath hair is just about to come out of.

The teenager can’t disappear through big yellow carts like they can people.

There’s lots of yelling, and banging, and screaming, and clattering, and Des sort of wants to see what happened, because it sounds like something he’d see when Mama lets him watch cartoons on the weekend. But The Thing’s escaped the cleaning man’s anger and run up the stairs out of the station, taking off down one of the brightly lit streets, weaving through crowds of adults in funny, shiny clothes.

It’s so dark, it’s clearly past his bedtime, but Des doesn’t feel sleepy at all.

He just clings tighter and watches his family flutter behind them as The Thing carries him farther and farther away from the teenager and the Not-Daddy that want to hurt him.

[jonah-aesthetic]

Jingle Bells I Daniel Seavey

Daniel X Reader 

Plot:  Your best friend since childhood takes you on a sleigh ride. one you’ve only mentioned once to him. With the entire Christmas vibe he brings to life it’s hard for you to keep your feelings at bay for him.

Word count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: unedited I feel like this piece flopped for me. I didn’t want it too long, but it also dragged on a little. Yet I didn’t think I put enough detail in this one. 

Rating: 16+ (I’m 20 so I’d like my readers to be some what around there.)

MoodBoard

-----------------------------------------

Your vision was blocked by a folded bandanna tied around your head with a secured knot or two. Hand tightly locked with Daniel’s, feeling his thumb rub a top yours for comfort. Snow crunched under your Dr. Martens with ease, slightly soft from the snow fall a few days prior. Slow steps as He guided you keeping your location a surprise.

 Your senses felt heightened with your eyes looking into the dark oblivion. The vague bitter smell of horse manure and the rather oddly pleasant hay scent Reached your nose. You wouldn’t have noticed it before, almost feeling like a damn blood hound. Yet it gave a hint on where he was taking you. 

Two hours previous he woke you up, you’re nothing close to a morning person. So you cussed his ass out of your apartment so you could enjoy the fantasy dreams about him. Ones you could never endure in reality, Daniel’s your best friend who you were insufferably in love with. 

Yet he came again, using the spare you forgot you gave him. But this time he came bearing an Eggnog Latte and gingerbread cookie. Slaying the ferocious dragon into silence, the way he always knew how.  The caffeine and baked good keeping you at bay as he told you he at the day planned for the both of you. Although it was a surprise, all he said was dress appropriate for the chilly winter weather and grab a blanket. 

Analyzing everything in your head for a quick second. You realized he was bringing you on that sleigh ride you mentioned once before. Thinking it’d be fun to do during the winter months, you didn’t think he’d actually book an entire day for it. Making it a big thing, you wish he didn’t. Cause it only made butterflies flutter, tempting you to wreck your friendship. 

“Watch your step..” Daniel’s voice is more projected against the snow over ground. Heart slamming upon your rib cage and you swear you can hear it.

“Actually just bend your knees, It’s a stairwell and I’d rather not risk you eating shit. Or breaking a nose in the winter.” At his words you probably figured they were slippery or he didn’t trust you not to slip, you were no doubt clumsy as Bambi, and the man knew it. 

Bending your knees a little, which you curious on why he asked you in the first place. Yet you trusted him with your life, there’s no going back on years of friendship now Seavey. his arms scooped you under your legs and against your back. Bringing you closer to his chest, the motion fast and unexpected as you let of a small whimper. Daniel groaned as he hopped getting a more sturdy hold on you. 

“God you’re heavy.” He breathes, the air from his lungs hitting your cheeks. 

“Then put me down Asshole.” You scold him, slapping his chest, feeling a deep chuckle rumble within. 

“I was joking, you’re not heavy, you’re fine. It was a bad joke anyways. Now hold on I might drop you.” 

“Daniel That’ll be the last thing you’ll do before you end up in hell.” You threaten playfully. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck after feeling him climb up the stairs. It was a small rocking motion almost like you were on a ride especially with the blindfold on. 

“Was that a death threat?” 

“If you drop me, yes, yes it is.” 

Gasping you felt Daniel fake drop you, it was a slower motion that you thought it would be to actually drop you. Nonetheless it still scared you, clawing on tighter to him. Whitening your knuckles as angry wasps scattered in your stomach. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I have you Seavey.” You yelled still preparing for the fall the would never come. 

Again you could feel the glorious deep chuckle of his erupt from his chest. Vibrating against you, turning angry wasps into love-sick butterflies. “We’re hear anyways.” 

“Than you can put me down and take this damn blindfold off.” You speak trying to reach for it. Daniel’s hand caught your wrist like a reflex. “Not yet, just a few more minutes.”

Opening a door and being engulfed my warmed, you shivered from the drastic temperature change. Bells rang above warning the receptionist that customers have arrived. It was around an hour, or what felt like an hour to you later. Of going over everything for the surprise, from the time to the pricing. Which you weren’t to happy about, yet after all of it nobody confirmed your theory. You knew what it was, but you wanted it to be heard. Though nothing about it was said. 

Nada. Zilp. Zitch. Nothing. Not even a damn crumb. 

Going from warm to cold wasn't as drastic of a change. Daniel still held you bridal style, scared you eat shit. Which you most likely would have, if he let you climb down the steps. You felt very natural in his arms anyways, like to pieces of a puzzle. 

Daniel began to lower you softly letting you go before your feet were on the ground again. Silently thanking him for being on your two feet again. His presence coming behind you, raising his fingers to the knots and began to pick at them. 

“Are you ready?” 

Yes I’ve been waiting all damn day for this. Take it off Seavey.” Hearing him chuckle behind a smile spread across your face. Feeling the bandanna drop, hands flying to your mouth as you gasped. You knew it, yet you were still shocked by the sight of it. 

In front of you was bright red sleigh with gold detailing all around it. Had a massive resemblance to the famous Santa Klaus one. instead of nine reindeer, a beautiful black Clydesdale stood in their place.  On of the bands resting upon his butt had a line of huge bells. Ringing every time he moved, bringing the whole Christmas vibe alive. 

whirling around gazing at him a gentle smile rested on his lips. His blonde hair half tucked under a black beaning. Light stubble dancing along his jaw, making him look older. His icy blue eyes watching you, fighting the urge to tell him you wanted him. Maybe he knew it already, that’s why he took you here, and maybe he didn’t.

“You didn’t have to.” You said shaking your head, 

“I know, I wanted to, I had the money for it.” He shrugged stuffing his hands into his pockets. Why couldn’t Daniel be less attractive! it wasn’t fair. perfect silence emerged over both of you, genuine smiles with adoration for one another hidden behind your eyes. 

“If you Two love birds are ready, I love to show you what this gorgeous winter has to offer.” The Driver spoke, sitting upon the front seat that was two or three feet higher then the main seats in the center of the sleigh. 

With giddy giggles Daniel escorted you towards it, his hand resting on the smallest part of your back. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear you could’ve felt his hand reach and squeeze your hip. 

Sitting down it was a tight and cozy fit, the bench and the back rest was cushioned with a black leather material. Smooth to the touch and soft as ever, with a clicker of the chauffeur’s tongue, the sleigh bolted to life, cause you and Daniel to fall back into each other. Soon enough the jingle bells rhythm came into ear shot. Making this whole experience feel like you woke up in a fucking Christmas. Unbelievable real.

“Are you okay?” Daniel’s laugh fans your cheeks as he helps you to sit up right. 

“Never better.” You say with an undying happiness you possessed inside. Not feeling the way the cold nipped at your nose making you look like and off brand Rudolph. 

“Here.” He speaks as you watch him unfold a black blanket, a little dumbfound, the thing was massive and surprised you hadn't noticed it before. Handing you one of the corners of the blanket, and instantly wrapped it around you as Daniel did the same. Pulling you two closer together, trying to engulf your body in it as much as you. 

“Thanks” you whisper under your breathe, watching it form into an icy cloud. Glancing at the gold letters embroidered into the corner of the blanket tight. it was a gift from Daniel’s mother giving to you on the day you both graduated. Remembering the words she said to you like it was yesterday. 

“You know I wasn't to ecstatic about new neighbors moving in. But as soon as I saw this sweet little girl playing with my boy. I was glad that your parents’ pick the that house. I Watched you two laughing and giggling in the yards, I just knew you two would be in separable. It’s a shame that boy of mind doesn't see the love that you have for him...”

It shocked you to know that she knew that you were in love with him. You covered your tracks pretty well back then. Controlling yourself around him was child’s play compared to now. She never interfered with the way you felt about him, You were grateful at the time. Now not so much, but it could’ve wrecked the friendship you had-

“Y/N look.” Daniel’s voice cut your thoughts short, His attention of the right. You follow his gaze, spotting nine caribou in scattered in the woods. Or rather nine reindeer, you guessed they weren’t replaced after all. You could feel the sleigh come to a gentle stop, the jingle bells’ song vanished into the air. 

“Oh shit! Reindeer.” No filter with pure shock, 

Curiously watching them from a far, you admired each and every one. Noticing a chunky bell lacing around their necks, like they were Santa's famous reindeer's’ out of the movies. 

“And watch this.” He speaks glancing up at the driver, as if on cue he places his fingers in mouth and releases a high pitch whistle. “Keep an eye out for him,” 

“Keep an out of who?-” 

A  reindeer further into the forest walks towards us, elegant and gentle. Stalking through the snow as if he held pride, significantly larger than all the other reindeer, he must of been the alpha, the leader. 

Amazed at the whole thing you couldn't think of words to say and if you manged something. It’d definitely come out as word vomit. Reaching closer and closer to the sleigh you could her the bell jingle against his chest. Black scribble appeared on the red ribbon clasped around his neck. Soon being able to read the name ‘Rudolph’  on both side on his throat. 

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Daniel asks looking back at you expecting you to say words you couldn’t fathom at the moment. You gulped and nodded your head vigorously. He was more then beautiful he was stunningly gorgeous and massive. You’ve never seen a wild animal in person not to mention this close to one. 

Daniel held a chuckle at your reaction to this entire encounter with Rudolph. Finding your dumbfound shock, adorably cute. In moments like these he dreaded the knowledge of being your best friend and not your boyfriend. Where he could just grab the back of your neck and smash his lips hungrily to yours. 

The adrenaline high was retreating in your veins, causing your mind to process again. The cage of anxiety breaking open as the glance of Daniel’s ocean eyes calmed you down.  

He’s fucking perfect. Look at those dopy eyes, various shades of blues swirled inside them. causing your heart to melt into the bottom of your stomach. All thoughts of common sense started to leave, glancing at his lips. looking pink and soft as ever, god they must taste like heaven, or at least the closest thing to it. 

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend. 

Looking forward you could’ve swore you breathed the same air as Rudolph. Still he was more beautiful up close. White creamy chest that reached to his legs, chocolate brown body. adorable nose that had the softest resemblance to a cow. Antlers sprouting from a top his head, developing towards the sky. A small white box was tethered to his left antler by a black ribbon. Throwing your best friend a suspicious glance, he nodded letting you reach for it.

Clasping the velvet box in your hand, feeling your heart pound repeatedly. Breath caught, anxious of what’s in the box. Feeling your gut tell you this was it and whatever this box contained was going to change everything. Distracting yourself you focused on Rudolph, seeing the way he looked at you. As if he knew what it was somehow. 

taking your glove off with your teeth you reached for him, pausing three inches before his nose. If you learned anything from Draco’s encounter with Buckbeck, was to be patient and let the animal come to you. Although at the end of the day it was just a fucking movie. 

Warmth exploded from your palm to your elbow, smiling you trailed your hand to rest under his chin. His fur softer than you were expecting it to be, yet you didn’t know what you were expecting. “Thank you Rudolph.” You whisper to him soon retracting your hand. Backing away he retreated to his herd, quite as if the encounter with him never happened.

Taking up your spot next to Daniel you glance up at him, “What is this?” You asked breathlessly. 

“Open it.” He says, voice a tremble and couldn’t help but think that he knows. Was this what a best friend break up was like? Staring at it you forced the top open, but you let it go. Snapping shut without a glimpse. You shake your head, gulping feeling the bile rise. “I can’t Daniel” 

His hand comes into view, twice the size of yours. Veins scattered along his knuckles, red from the cold. Taking the box from you grip you stared at your fingers, missing the feeling of his hands on yours. 

“I’m in love with you.” He blurts in out like it was nothing new to you. Your head whipped so fast you got dizzy. His eyes were genuine, you always knew he was lying. The way he would glance up and down then to side. Tongue poking out with a fiddling of handing, but he didn’t show any signs. He was a good actor though. 

“She told you.” You accuses like a defensive mechanism. You guessed Keri thought you moved on with your feelings for Daniel. There was no other reason you could think  of. 

“She did.’ He confirms, Nodding his head. Was this was this a joke to him? Cause it wasn’t fucking funny. You shook your head feeling the fire burning in your blood. 

‘I can’t do this.” You speak, removing yourself from the seat and jumping out of the sleigh. Starting to head back in the direction you think the farm was located. The cold weather bite at your body, but you hugged yourself too furious to care. 

“Y/N!” 

“Leave me alone Daniel.” You could here him chase after you, with the ay he was breathing. 

“Mom told me you wouldn’t believe me.” His voice getting louder. 

“Maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself Seavey, better yet you should’ve let me sleep in.” You were hurt, and you didn’t know how to comprehend any of this. 

“I love when you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like the colors on your paint palette, how you mixed blue and purple for the perfect shade of magenta.” 

That was two months ago and you remembered the excitement you felt. After hours of mixing you finally made the exact shade you wanted. Daniel was the first one you came to, as he was at your apartment. 

“Daniel stop.” using his name the way you were was like a sting each time. 

“Or the time you hit that sparrow, you pulled over as so soon as you felt the bird hit the grill. You dug him a grave with a used spoon in the truck of my car. Gave him a funeral and forced me to speak at it like it was lost friend. It was the day I finally realized I love you with every fiber of my being.” You could hear the strain in his voice. 

That happened two fucking years ago. 

“It’s not fair.” You speak stopping in your tracks, a good distance away from the sleigh. Feeling his presence behind you, you let him reach out for you. His hand turning you to face him yet you faced the ground feeling like you lost a damn war, defeated and drained. 

“I know it’s not and I’m so incredibly sorry.” He sounded like he was begging for you. 

“Okay.”  you didn't know exactly what it was for, but you felt like it was needed. 

His hand came to rest on your cheek wiping a tear you didn’t know slip. His touch delicate against your face, tilting your head up he caught your lips against his. His lips were soft as you fell into sync. Tasting like cinnamon and peppermint. Pulling him closer you lost yourself within him, the feel, the smell, and the touch of him. 

Kissing him was like finally finding the last piece of your puzzle, the way both of you fit perfectly together amazed you. He tasted like heaven and heaven tasted like home. 

---------------------------------------------

Felt like I could’ve added more, but its already long.

I hope you enjoyed this piece.

Also if ya made it to the end comment which Why Don’t We guy I should do next. 

[artificialqueens]

To Thaw Her Frozen Heart (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Denali and Rosé are childhood best friends who love playing with Denali’s ice powers at night. After an accident, Rosé leaves and Denali learns to live without her. When they’re suddenly reunited, will they be able to recover what they lost, or will fate tear them apart again?

(A Frozen AU).

A/N: So I originally had an to do a Frozen AU with Branjie–but I came up with the idea while I was writing Royals, and the overall vibes were so similar that I buried it in my docs and never went back to it. I recently had the idea to do it with Rosnali instead, and I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for encouraging me to do this, helping me brainstorm, and betaing! I couldn’t have done this without them.

Please leave feedback if you’d like!

Title from Frozen Heart from Frozen.

—

“Nali, do you wanna build a snowman?”

Denali jumps out of bed at Rosie’s knock. She throws open the door and grins at her best friend. “Let’s go!”

They keep their voices down as they scamper over the polished floors. They should be in bed, but the portrait room has been their spot since forever, luring them in with high ceilings and big windows that are swallowed by moonlight.

Of all the things her and Rosie do together—chasing each other through the castle for a game of tag; picking fresh berries from the castle bushes and passing them back and forth until they both had purple lips; laughing and spinning around in dresses too big for them as they play dress-up with old clothes in the attic—this is their favorite. A winter wonderland just for them.

The doors open and Denali covers the floor in a blanket of snow. Denali’s parents don’t want her using her powers at all, and these nights are their secret. Denali knows Rosie will never tell, just like she’ll never tell that Denali broke the vase in the entrance hall and still sleeps with her stuffed wolf. Just like Denali will never tell that Rosie is the one who sneaks chocolates from the kitchen and checks under her bed for monsters. There was something sacred in their friendship, something they understood but couldn’t explain, a sense that they knew each other as well as themselves, and always would.

Tonight’s snowman smiles over them as they make snow angels, giggling and staring up at the paintings of kings and queens and explorers on the walls.

“Maybe when we’re grown-ups we can go on adventures and stuff,” Rosie says excitedly. “We can ride horses and fight monsters and—“

“And climb mountains! And swim in the oceans!” Maybe someone would make a painting of them. Denali would definitely smile for it, unlike the mean faces frowning around them.

“Yes!”

“What if you can climb a mountain now?” Denali asks. “I’ll make little ice mountains for you.”

Rosie jumps up and brushes the snow off her, her grin brighter than the moon as Denali lifts her off the ground with a small ice column. She makes another, a little taller, and Rosie leaps onto it. She jumps on them all, higher and higher, a brave adventurer.

“Rosie, slow down!” Denali shoots ice columns as fast as she can, but Rosie leaps for the next one just after her feet touch the last.

“Look how high I can jump!”

“Wait!”

Rosie jumps higher and farther than her other jumps—far past the column Denali had ready for her. Denali desperately shoots another ice blast, hoping it lands under Rosie’s feet–

But it doesn’t.

It hits Rosie instead, and she crashes to the floor with a thud that echoes through the room and every part of Denali’s heart.

Denali doesn’t breathe as she runs to where Rosie is crumpled on the floor, not moving.

“Rosie?” Denali shakes her shoulder gently, but she doesn’t wake up.

The snow had cushioned some of her fall, and Rosie doesn’t look hurt, not like that time she fell outside and scraped both her legs. But Rosie was so brave that she didn’t even cry that time, just sniffled a little when her mom cleaned her up.

She’s not crying now, but she’s not waking up or moving either, when she’s normally always in motion, laughing or dancing or singing. She looks so small. She’s a year older and a little taller than Denali, but now she looks tiny, like she’s always been the smaller one.

Her head slumps back, and Denali stares in shock. In Rosie’s soft red hair, there’s a streak of white. Denali’s never seen hair turn a different color like this, and it can’t be good.

“Hang on, Rosie. I’ll get my mom and dad.”

Slippers are pulled on and doors are slammed as Denali wakes her parents, then Rosie’s, since they’re the royal advisers and sleep next door.

Rosie is blinking awake when Denali leads them back in, her teeth chattering as she shivers in the snow. The snow. Denali’s heart sinks. Now her parents know what they’ve been doing, and she and Rosie will be in so much trouble, and what if they can’t be friends anymore? What if something bad happens to Rosie? Denali forces back the tears in her eyes.

“Rosé!” Rosie’s parents run to her, and Denali runs too, only to be held back by a hand on her shoulder.

“We talked about this, Denali,” her mother hisses. “These powers aren’t something you can play with. Rosie needs a healer, or she’ll freeze solid.”

Denali wants to protest, tell her mom that she’s careful and tonight was an accident, that she would never hurt Rosie on purpose, but she hears the echo of her mother’s words, hears Rosie’s parents whispering about how cold she is, and knows tonight is all her fault. Hot tears flood the collar of her pajamas.

“There’s a healer up north who can fix her,” Denali’s mom says to Rosie’s parents, calm and cool like the queen she is.

The whispers continue, too hushed for Denali to hear, but she knows they’re taking Rosie from her.

“What healer? Can I come?” Denali asks.

“No, Denali.”

“But—“

Her mother flashes her a stern look, and Denali quiets.

Rosie’s parents scoop her up and carry her out, and that’s the last time Denali sees her.

—

Denali watches the following years from her bedroom window.

Rosie and her parents move to another castle. Denali writes her letters, but she never gets a reply back, not a single word in Rosie’s loopy handwriting. Without Rosie, her powers fade for a while, tiny pricks of ice when she once made mountains, but when they return, it’s with the ferocity of an ice storm. She knows it’s worse when she’s missing Rosie, like when her birthday passes without their tradition of having tea in the rose garden, or when the lake freezes over and there’s no one to skate on it with. At those times, the ice digs into Denali’s heart and flows outward, tears freezing on her cheeks as everything around her frosts over.

She stays in her room all day, even takes meals there when she can’t stop freezing the table because a laughing redhead should be beside her, and ice covers her room like dust of a life unlived.

The castle remains shut, just Denali and her parents inside, so there’s no chance of her hurting someone while she spends her days inside, working on control.

Don’t miss her so much. You can visit her when you can control your powers, her parents instruct, slipping thick white gloves over her hands. Conceal it, don’t feel it.

So Denali conceals it. She takes all the memories with Rosie–the time she was stuck in bed with a cold and Denali read to her all day; snowy mornings warmed by hot chocolate and smiles; golden autumn days shining with leaves–buries them inside her heart, and lets it freeze over like the lake. She is the lake now, and everything she wants to feel is pushed underneath, sinking to the earth. A polished surface is all they’ll see of her.

By 18, she’s given up on the letters. By 19, she can spend a few hours outside her room without freezing everything.

By 21, the lakes of her heart are beyond thawing.

—

Denali can’t remember the last time so many people were in the castle. She hears the crowd’s distant hum, ecstatic voices streaming to the grand hall for her birthday feast, where she’s expected in five minutes. But she can’t go with her gloves on, and every time she peels them off her shaking hands, her fingertips freeze.

She takes a deep breath. She can do this. The gloves come off, and she’s normal. Just a normal princess about to see hundreds of people for the first time in fifteen years. The castle already feels too small, too crowded, too loud, with everyone inside, disturbing the silence that normally consumes things. She’s not even inside yet and she can see them staring at her, judging her, wondering why the castle was locked all these years. If she can’t control her powers, they’ll know why.

She strides out, icy blue dress rippling like water around her. There was a time when this was all she wanted. All those hours with Rosie, trying on dresses and imagining wearing them to balls, Denali glowing with the confidence of a princess and Rosie glowing with confidence that was all her own, title or not. Now, all Denali wants is to hide in her room.

The air flies out of Denali’s lungs when she sees a redhead in the crowd. It could be anyone in the world, she tells herself. She’s just seeing things because she’s stressed, and the ice pricking at her fingers proves it.

Though she used to dream of feasts and has missed countless ones over the years, this one is nothing special, nothing to make her regret missing the others. There are food and drinks, nobles and leaders, handshakes and small talk. Her parents do the talking; Denali just has to smile on occasion, a perfect princess, and even smiling is hard enough when she’s done so little of it the past years, her face a frozen mask. Not like the days when all it took was a smile from Rosie to make Denali smile too.

The dishes are cleared, and everyone walks to the ballroom for a night of dancing. Denali’s wondering if she can duck out early when there’s a tap on her shoulder.

“It’s really you,” the person says, and Denali turns and looks into eyes she’s never forgotten.

Rosie.

Denali doesn’t believe it at first. Maybe she doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to believe that her childhood best friend is a grown-up too. That their world of tea parties and dress-up and games is truly gone. Maybe it would be easier to believe if she and Rosie had grown up together like they should have, if she had watched Rosie grow taller, seen her face change into the person looking at her now.

And the person looking at her, though older, is completely, unmistakably Rosie. Denali would know her anywhere, even after all this time with Rosie only existing in her memory. The same soft, coppery hair with its streak of white, the same warm eyes that would light up in mischief, the same blinding smile unleashed without hesitation around Denali.

Denali falters. She doesn’t know how many times she imagined seeing Rosie again, rehearsing her words, but now she’s speechless. Where does she start? How did the healer fix her? Why didn’t she answer Denali’s letters? Does she hate Denali? Is Rosie still the same person who dreamt of adventure and liked honey on her bread?

“Rosie,” Denali breathes, and it’s somehow everything at once.

—

Denali takes Rosie to the portrait room. The faces on the wall are old friends, more welcoming than the ballroom crowd they’re avoiding.

They sit on the floor like they used to, and it’s so familiar that Denali can almost pretend the past 15 years didn’t happen. That they’ve never been apart.

“We used to come here all the time,” Rosie says. “I swear I’ve had dreams about this room.”

“You probably have. We basically lived in here,” Denali says. “Do you remember that time it rained all day and we had a picnic in here?”

“And we tried to make sandwiches but you dropped the stuff all over the kitchen–”

“And you tried to cook an apple over the fireplace and almost burned your arm,” Denali says, and then they’re both laughing, a sound that makes everything seem more real, less like a dream. She has Rosie back, and her heart is lighter than it’s been in years, beating strong with a new joy.

But then there’s a pause, and as much as Denali wants to tell stories all night, she needs to know what happened after Rosie left.

“How come you’re at the ball?” Denali asks.

“I was invited,” Rosie says. “I wouldn’t crash a party.”

“You would and you know it, Rosie,” Denali says.

“I always liked how you called me Rosie,” she says, eyes on the floor. “Everyone else calls me Rosé. That’s all I ever go by now.”

Denali swallows, wondering how else Rosie–Rosé–has changed, if there’s only a little of Rosie left in her. “Where do you live now? What happened after …” she can’t bring up the accident yet.

“What do you mean?” Rosé asks. “My parents got hired as advisers to the lord of Riverton, and that’s why we left. Your parents recommended them for it.”

Denali shakes her head. “You left because there was an accident. We were playing, and I hurt you by mistake, and I’m so sorry–”

“Accident?” Rosé bites her lip in confusion. “There wasn’t an accident.”

“Yes there was.”

“I don’t—I don’t remember that, Denali. I swear I don’t.” Her voice is sincere, and Denali already knows she’s telling the truth, because Rosé rubs her neck when she lies.

But how can she not remember? Denali can’t forget the sound of Rosé falling, how limp she was as Denali tried to wake her, how she was carried away without a goodbye. How it was all Denali’s fault.

“I wrote you letters,” Denali says, changing gears. “You never wrote back.”

“I never got letters from you!” Rosé’s eyes are wide. “I wrote you dozens of letters and never got anything back. Something’s wrong here.” She wrings her hands together, clearly stressed; Denali remembers how, anytime she was in a bad mood, Rosé would always ask how she was feeling and what she needed, a great communicator. This confusion must be eating her up, and Denali needs to fix it.

Clarity hits her like ice, and Denali knows who she needs to talk to.

Her parents.

—

In the ballroom, Denali’s parents are talking and laughing like nothing is wrong. Like they haven’t lied to Denali for most of her life. She doesn’t have an ounce of guilt as she pulls them into the hall, mind spinning with what to call them out on first.

“What’s this about, Denali?” her mother asks. “We’re in the middle of a ball for your birthday, if you didn’t notice–”

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time! You made Rosé and her parents leave, and you never sent my letters! And Rosé—she has no idea the accident happened! Did you block her memory or something?”

The queen sighs, sensing Denali’s anger too much to deny her. “We didn’t do it. Her parents did.”

“But how?” Denali knows it wasn’t a normal healer they took Rosé to, but could you really erase a memory?

“After the healer fixed her, Rosé was … upset. She was worried about you, kept yelling and asking for you. Nothing could calm her down. Her parents asked the healer to erase her memory of the accident and convince her that your powers were all her imagination. That way, she was calm, and she couldn’t tell anyone about your powers.” The queen’s voice is as calm as always, like she’s discussing business plans and not a lie that was kept from her daughter for fifteen years.

Rage and power rise in Denali’s chest, bumping against the layers of ice that always tamp her feelings down. She can’t imagine how scared Rosé must have been, waking up in some strange healer’s place, how her first instinct—look for Denali—couldn’t help her. Of course she was upset, and yet the main concern wasn’t how to help her, but how to keep her quiet. “They had no right to do that to her!”

“They really did think it would help her, Denali. They didn’t want her suffering from the memory her whole life.”

For a second, Denali wonders if it’s worse to take someone’s memory away, or let them suffer from it. Rosé’s parents thought they were helping her. Had Denali’s parents considered offering her that same mercy? Or did they think suffering would turn her into the princess she needed to be?

“And the letters? You never sent them, did you?”

“No,” her mother says. “We worried you would be in danger if word of your powers got out. We all decided it was best to separate you two. Then you could control yourself without her to distract you, and Rosé could go on thinking she imagined your powers. No one would know or get hurt. We invited her today since you’re in control.”

“You lied to me! My whole life, you lied to me. You took my best friend away and just left me in my room!” Denali shakes with rage, the heat of her anger blocking out the dull coldness tingling in her hands. For the past fifteen years, she’s blamed herself. Blamed herself for missing with her ice, for hurting Rosé, for being the reason she had to leave. But now it’s different. She and Rosé didn��t just lose years of friendship and memories—it was stolen from them.

“Denali.”

The words are a warning, one Denali can’t listen to. Not when everything was taken from her, when she spent so long locked inside this castle, blame and anger and loneliness heaped on shoulders too young to bear it, while the people with the power to ease the burden looked the other way.

Power courses through her, and the first ice blast destroys the ballroom doors. The second freezes the walls and sends people running, screaming and shoving others out of the way. Denali hears her parents warning her to stop, but it’s so far beyond her control that her hands don’t feel like they belong to her. Her heart pounds so fast it hurts, the ache growing sharper with her gasps for breath. She can’t stop the ice from pouring out of her hands, creeping along walls and floors while people run—

“Hey, Denali, it’s all right.”

It’s Rosé, of course, fearless and calming as ever. Denali’s port in a storm, helping her even when others ran. Denali sees the shape of her, the pink dress trailing down her body, but everything else is blurred. She faintly hears people calling for her arrest, calling her a monster.

Monster.

It rings through her ears, sharp as a knife. She has a sudden view of the people huddled in the corners, terror on their faces, and she falters. This isn’t what she wanted.

“I–I’m not a monster, I—“ Denali tries to breathe, to stop shaking. It’s all too much–the mass of people, the ear-splitting shouts, the burning stares. Everything’s closing in, and the ice around her isn’t an attack anymore. It’s protection.

“Breathe, Denali,” Rosé soothes.

She tries, but the royal guard is approaching as the crowd shouts for them to take her away. One raises his sword, dangerously close to Rosé. If he swings at Denali, Rosé will be in the crossfire, and Denali doesn’t hesitate to send an ice blast to stop him. Only—

Only he pushes Rosé in front of him, and the blast hits her in the chest.

Denali is six years old again, watching helplessly as Rosé gasps. Ice explodes around her, driving back the crowd and giving Denali space to finally breathe. By the time her vision clears, another streak of Rosé’s hair is snowy white, and her knees are wobbling. “Rosie? Are you—“

“I knew your powers were real,” Rosé says weakly, and she faints into Denali’s arms.

—-

Denali doesn’t hesitate. She changes her clothes, packs a bag, and slings Rosé into the carriage with her.

She escapes the crowd calling her a monster, leaves her parents to smooth things over, and sets off with a rumpled map of the north, grateful to have Wintervale behind her. The world outside is cold and crisp, wind biting at the carriage, and Denali sucks in every bit of air she can get, savoring the freedom despite the worry of Rosé’s shivering body beside her. Everything is swirling like a blizzard inside her–the anger, the worry, the fear, the determination. It’s more than she’s felt since she was six, more than she’s had reason to feel since she was six, and each emotion strains against a chest that doesn’t know how to hold so much.

She doesn’t know what will happen now that her secret is out, now that half the kingdom is afraid of her, but she doesn’t care. She can’t care, because she has to get Rosé to the healer. She can’t allow herself to feel anything else until Rosé is healed, shoving away emotions she doesn’t have room for. Despite how fast the horses are going, the north is so vast it feels like they’re barely moving.

“Are you warm enough?” Denali asks, biting her lip in stress. She had wrapped Rosé in two blankets and slipped extra thick gloves over her own hands, for protection as much as for warmth. Each layer is a barrier between them, another thing preventing Denali’s touch from freezing Rosé, because Denali can’t trust herself.

“Yes.” Rosé looks at her, bright eyes sizing her up. “Don’t make that face, Denali. I know that face. This isn’t your fault.”

“But I hurt you!”

“It was an accident. Please don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you at all. I mean it.”

Denali doesn’t have it in her to argue. It wasn’t that her parents explicitly blamed her for everything; they just didn’t stop her from blaming herself. Never granted her the gentle kindness that comes through in every word Rosé says. Rosé is not only stopping Denali from blaming herself, but giving her the grace and permission to forgive herself too. And maybe Denali can.

“Denali?”

“Yes?”

“This happened before. That’s what you said in the portrait room.” It’s not a question, and Denali wonders if her powers jogged something in Rosé’s memory.

“It did,” Denali says. The lie ends with her. “One time when we were kids, I was making ice mountains for you to climb. You jumped too far, though, and I tried–I tried to catch you, but I hit you instead. My parents and your parents took you to this healer–the one we’re going to now–and they stopped the ice from hurting you. But my mother said you were upset and your parents had the healer erase the accident from your memory.”

Rosé nods. There’s only a little recognition in her face, and Denali wonders what it’s like to not remember such a big event in your life, to just have it erased. To have to trust that what Denali is telling her is true. “I remember some parts,” Rosé says. “I remember the healer’s cabin, how you could see the mountains from her window. I wanted to show you, but you weren’t there and I started crying. I … I remember asking to see you, but everyone said no. I thought you might be in trouble so I told them it wasn’t your fault, that it was an accident, but no one would listen. The healer did some spell, and I fell asleep, and when I woke up, we were in Riverton.” Rosé shakes her head bitterly. “I’d have dreams about your powers, and they felt so real, but I thought I made it up—“

“It’s okay.” Denali wants to pat her knee, soothe her the way Rosé would if the positions were reversed, but she can’t. Not with the danger her hands carry.

Rosé just nods.

“I’m sorry,” Denali says. “I’m sorry about then and I’m sorry about now.”

“Well, I forgive you. Then and now.” Despite the slight pain clouding her eyes, despite the wind whipping around, Rosé flashes her brilliant smile. “Hey, it looks like we got our adventure after all.”

Denali smiles too.

—

They stop for the night when the snow hits. Huge snowflakes flutter down like pieces of clouds, stark against the pitch-black sky. Denali can’t see well between the snow and the dark, and even though she wants to push on, Rosé has been silent and half-asleep the past hour, the ice undoubtedly weakening her joyful, talkative self, and Denali knows she needs to rest.

She pulls the carriage into a valley of pine trees.

“Rosie, we’re stopping for the night,” she says softly.

Rosé nods faintly, and Denali looks at her with a pang of guilt. More white streaks through her hair like a mountain pass and her face is just as pale, each movement stiff and wracked with shivers. She reaches out to help Rosé into the back of the carriage, then stops abruptly, frozen with fear.

“You can touch me,” Rosé says.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Again, Denali thinks but doesn’t add.

“You won’t hurt me,” Rosé says. But she climbs out herself.

The back of the carriage is just big enough to sleep in, and Denali presses herself against the side, leaving as much room as possible between them.

“T–take one of my blankets,” Rosé says. She’s curled up as tight as she can to stay warm, and Denali curses herself for not grabbing more blankets in her rush.

“Don’t need it.” Denali’s barely noticed the cold. Her heart’s already frozen anyway, how much colder could she get?

“Tell me if you do,” Rosé says quietly.

Denali nods, but she knows she won’t, just like she won’t sleep tonight. She can’t trust herself with the release of sleep, can’t risk bumping into Rosé and hurting her.

Rosé blinks sluggishly, trying to ward off the sleep fogging her eyes.

“Rosie, get some sleep,” Denali says.

“I’m not leaving you alone. Not like last time.” There’s a firmness in her voice Denali wouldn’t have thought possible, and she doesn’t argue.

“I almost forgot,” Rosé continues. “I have a present for you.”

“You didn’t have to—“

“I missed all your birthdays, Denali.”

“I missed all yours, too.”

“Well, I guess I have a bunch of presents from you to look forward to,” Rosé teases cheerfully. “You know I love presents.”

Denali smirks. “You do.”

“Anyway, here’s yours.” Rosé removes one arm from her blankets, hissing when the cold hits, and extends a box to Denali.

Inside is a necklace with a tiny snowflake charm, and Denali immediately clasps it around her neck.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, Rosie. Thank you.”

Rosé coughs. “Denali, I know you might not like your powers, but they’re–they’re beautiful. Like–”

“Like me?” Denali interrupts, cutting off the swell of her heart before it grows too big, breaks through the ice.

“I would’ve said like me.” Rosé laughs. “But like you too.”

Denali smiles, grateful it’s too dark for Rosé to see her blushing cheeks.

“Do you–do you remember that night it was raining?” Rosé asks with a yawn. “And we looked at the stars?”

“Of course I do.” Denali knows Rosé should sleep, but she’s doing this to spare Denali from being alone, and it’s the most kindness she’s been shown in over a decade. So Denali plays along, retracing the night rain lashed at the windows and kept her awake, how she went to Rosé’s room and found her awake too, and they sat by the window while Rosé told stories about the stars until they fell asleep tangled together on the window seat.

“I used to look at the stars in Riverton. They were never as pretty as they were from Wintervale. But I always hoped you were looking at them too.” Rosé smiles, and Denali thinks some of her heart melts.

“I was.” Even if they were apart, Denali knows they were at least seeing the same stars, like their souls were calling out to each other. Denali tells Rosé the stories Rosé once told her, soothing her with tales of heroes earning their places in the sky, of the beauty in each star, until Rosé finally gives into her exhaustion and falls asleep.

Denali pulls off her long coat and throws it over Rosé, sleep allowing Rosé to take a favor she would never accept if she was awake.

Rosé seems so much younger in her sleep; looking at her now, the world silent except for her gentle breathing, Denali feels like she’s coming apart at the seams, because right now, she’s not seeing Rosé; she’s seeing Rosie, the girl she cared for more than anything else. And just like that, everything she’s kept inside all day–all her life–is rising to the surface, and the ice isn’t enough to contain it anymore.

It was easier to control things when they were apart, when Denali was alone in her room with no one to talk to. She learned to be comfortable with solitude, with the cold. At first, she childishly believed the promise her parents kept stringing along, fantasizing about visiting Rosé one day and striking up a game of tag even if they were too old. But as she got older, she knew it was just a fantasy, and it made things easier. She could control her feelings when there was nothing to cause them, dry tinders without a spark. There was no Rosé to tell jokes and burst into song and make Denali smile and laugh. Denali only had as much joy as she could bring herself, and staring at the same walls every day didn’t bring much. There was nothing to make her lose control.

But now Rosé is back, when Denali never thought she would be, and so are the feelings Denali pushed down so deep she thought they were beyond recovering. She was barely prepared to see people in the castle today, and ending the night with Rosé was the last thing she expected. Her heart is wrung out like a sponge, unused to such feeling after years of faintly beating–the joy of seeing Rosé’s smile again, the familiarity of the freckles dusting her shoulders, the relief of knowing Rosé still understands her, is still her friend. The hope that after all this, Rosé can stay for good.

If Denali doesn’t lose her first.

She knows it was an accident, that she didn’t mean to do it. But it still happened, and Denali provided the weapon. The old ache rises in her, the pain attached to the memory of hurting someone as good and kind as Rosé, someone so close to her, practically part of her. She’s more than Denali’s best friend—she’s a tie to her past, a time before the sadness. Proof and hope that the happiness that painted their days can color the world again.

She touches the necklace at her throat. Your powers are beautiful, Rosé said. Maybe she’s right. Maybe just because her powers are cold and sharp at times doesn’t mean they always have to be. When they were kids, Denali’s powers brought them such joy. Maybe she can have that again. With Rosé. Because she’s going to make it, and they’ll be friends after this. Denali knows it.

Rosé sighs in her sleep, and it sounds like Nali, Denali’s heart tugging again as she pretends it’s the wind. A piece of hair falls over Rosé’s face, and as much as Denali wants to tuck it behind her ear, she resists. Once Rosé is healed and Denali is in control, not shaken with both the joy of getting Rosé back and the fear of losing her all over again, then Denali can touch her. She hides her hands behind her back and watches over Rosé until the morning sun sets her hair alight and shines through the cracks in Denali’s heart.

—

Rosé can barely move the next morning. Denali catches her tiny winces, likely from how sore and stiff she is after all the shivering and clenching of her muscles. Denali’s hands hover behind her, a silent offer of help that she’s afraid to give and that Rosé probably won’t ask for, not wanting Denali to worry about her. Rosé only manages a few bites of the apple Denali packed, offering the rest to Denali, and, after Denali refuses, to the horses, who gobble it up.

“We’ll be there soon, I promise,” Denali says.

Rosé nods, and Denali convinces herself the bluish tinge to Rosé’s lips is just a trick of the light, nudging the horses to go faster. They move through blinding snow and towering mountains, the whole world a page from the storybooks they used to read. She’ll be okay, Denali tells herself. Because if this is a story, it deserves a happy ending.

The horses dip into a valley, a small cottage tucked between the trees. Mountains loom in the background, and Denali knows this is the place. She feels at peace here somehow. Like the mountains will keep her safe, a cocoon around her.

“I kn–knew you you’d like it here,” Rosé says.

“I really do.”

“Shall we?” Rosé offers a shaky arm to Denali, and Denali pretends not to see how hurt Rosé is when she won’t take it. She knows how important touch is to Rosé, their childhood painted with Rosé grabbing her hand as they ran across the land, arms wrapping around her in a hug, all Rosé’s way of showing she was there. A language the two of them spoke that Denali no longer knows the words to.

The cabin door swings open after Denali knocks, and her heart soars at the fire crackling in the fireplace. Rosé collapses in front of it, soaking up the first warmth she’s had in a day, the warmth any human besides Denali could give her.

“You again.” A person emerges from the corner of the cottage, and for all the old healers in the stories, this woman is young, with pale skin and blonde hair.

“You remember her?” Denali asks.

“I do.” The blonde nods severely. “My name is Brooke, by the way.” She bustles about and wraps another blanket around Rosé, and Denali burns with jealousy at someone who can touch so easily, so mindlessly.

“Can you help her?” Denali asks desperately.

Brooke shakes her head.

“You didn’t even try!”

“I can sense what’s wrong with her, and I can’t fix it. I’m sorry.”

“But you fixed her before!”

Brooke sighs. “I was only fixing her head back then. But now the ice is too close to her heart, and that’s much harder to fix. The only thing that can save her is an act of true love.”

Denali shakes her head frantically. She can’t have come all this way just to be told the answer is unobtainable. “Isn’t there anything else that can fix her? Something I can actually find? I mean, I can’t just buy true love! What about a potion or something–”

“There’s nothing else. I’m sorry.” Brooke pauses. “I can tell you two things. The first is that you won’t have to look far to help her. The second is that you shouldn’t run from your feelings.”

Denali clenches her jaw. She came here to help Rosé, not have some woman she’s known for three minutes tell her what to do. “And if I don’t find it, she’ll–” Denali knows, because her mother had told her what would happen all those years ago. But knowing and accepting are two different things.

“She’ll freeze solid,” Brooke confirms, and Denali thinks maybe this won’t have a happy ending after all.

—

“W–what do we do now?” Rosé asks, hands on her knees. The walk to the carriage winded her, and each wheezing breath pierces Denali’s heart.

“I don’t know.” Denali doesn’t even know what to say. All this time she had a plan that couldn’t go wrong, a purpose to push her along and keep her focused. Now the plan is shot and her purpose has nothing to direct it. She can barely look away from how pale Rosé is, the blue of her lips unable to be explained away anymore, ice crystals clinging to her hair. “I guess … I guess we go back to the castle. See if someone there can help.” It sounds good, but it’s just an empty promise. Denali knows there won’t be any cure beyond what Brooke told her, and the lie is just as much for her benefit as Rosé’s.

Rosé nods, like she knows it’s a lie but doesn’t want to call Denali a liar. “Do you think we have time to do something first?”

Denali doesn’t, but Rosé smiles hopefully, and Denali can’t deny her anything. “What is it?”

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

—

Denali looks down at her gloves. This whole time, they’ve been her armor, but in reverse–not to protect her, but to protect Rosé. Rosé can’t really be in worse shape than she’s in, but what if Denali accidentally speeds up the freezing, takes away whatever Rosé has left?

“You don’t have to use your powers,” Rosé says, like she’s reading her mind. “We’ll do it by hand. Not all of us are magic, you know.” Rosé laughs, and Denali knows she’s using every ounce of strength she has to do this, to be cheerful and have fun with Denali, and she won’t let her down.

“Let’s do it,” Denali says.

They build up the snow like they’re kids again, and Denali wants to stay inside this moment forever, a living snow globe, reliving it again and again with every shake. The snow clinging to Rosé’s eyelashes catching the sun and bathing her whole face in golden light. The smiles and laughs that come so easily Denali doesn’t have to think about them. The snow soft and bright and beautiful around them, an old friend welcoming them home.

But the snowglobe shatters when Rosé is hit with a burst of cold so bad it makes her whimper and curl into herself, and Denali knows they don’t have any time to waste in getting to the carriage.

“Denali?” Rosé’s voice is almost enough to stop Denali’s heart. “Denali, I can’t feel my legs.”

Denali turns around. A layer of solid ice covers Rosé’s boots and creeps toward her knees.

“No!” No, no, no. Denali runs to her, and before she stops herself, Rosé is in her arms. Denali holds her tight, squeezing her waist and lowering her gently to the ground. Denali curses herself and her stupid powers, wishing so badly she could take the ice away, take the pain away. All she can do is create more ice, create more cold and pain. “No, no, Rosie, please.”

“Shhh,” Rosè whispers, one shaking hand resting on Denali’s arm. “It’s okay.”

Denali lets out a strangled laugh, because Rosé is the one freezing over and Denali should be comforting her, not the other way around, but Rosé just can’t bear to see anyone hurting.

Rosé strokes Denali’s arm with her thumb, and this, more than anything, makes Denali truly sob. Because all this time, Denali’s been afraid to touch Rosé, been afraid of herself, but Rosé has never been afraid of her, not once in her life, and the gentle touch is a reminder that she never will be. A reminder that Denali doesn’t have to be afraid of herself either.

“I’m sorry, Rosie, I’m so sorry. Pl–please don’t go, please.”

Rosé hisses in a shaky breath as the ice hits her thighs. “Nali …”

“I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.” Denali can barely get the words past the lump in her throat. Hot tears roll down to her jacket, the only bit of warmth she’ll probably have again. She can feel how cold Rosé is even through their layers, but she doesn’t let go. She can’t let go. She couldn’t give Rosé the touch she desperately wanted all this time, but she’s giving it to her now, and nothing can make her stop.

“Denali.” Rosé coughs sharply, looking up at Denali with glassy eyes. “Denali, I–I love you. I love you so much. Is it okay if I kiss you before–”

Denali leans down and presses their lips together. Rosé is shaking uncontrollably but Denali holds her steady, keeps her together. Her own heart is pounding and she can feel Rosé’s through her lips, a sign that she’s still alive, still has some warmth coursing through her. Her lips carry the chill of a blizzard but are still soft beneath Denali’s, soft and loving and caressing her own the gentle way Rosé herself would.

When the lips beneath hers harden, Denali knows Rosie is gone.

She pulls herself away, forcing herself to look down at the woman in her arms. Rosé is frozen solid, an ice sculpture so real, so beautiful, that no human would ever be able to recreate it. Denali won’t let go of her, because beneath the ice is someone who was kissing her, breathing, living, just seconds ago, and to let her go would be to abandon her, to prove that Rosé really is gone.

“I’m sorry, Rosie.” Denali’s tears trail down over them both. “I’m sorry. You were–you were the best friend I ever had, and you make me–you make me so happy. Rosie, I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry I told you too late.”

The words feel right after she says them, like they’ve been looming beneath her ice for years, waiting to be let out. Denali’s loved her for a while, she realizes. Some part of her had always known, the part that would forever treasure Rosé and call out to her. Denali just had to let herself feel it. Every ounce of those feelings swell in her now, the love and devotion and affection she denied herself for so long. All she can do is hold Rosé and cry, wishing she had told her sooner, so that Rosé would have known she was loved before she was gone.

It takes Denali a while to notice that her cheeks are dry. Her mind struggles to process it, because she’s still crying, but she can’t feel the dampness on her cheeks.

She takes a breath, and she realizes Rosé is wiping her tears away.

“Please don’t cry,” Rosé whispers. “Look.” She carefully tips Denali’s head down to look at her, and instead of the frozen woman she expects to see, the ice is melting into the snow underneath.

Rosé is melting.

Her hair has returned to its brilliant soft red, even the old streak gone, like the wounds from their past have fully healed. The color is coming back to her cheeks, a smile coming with it.

“How are you–” She lowers a hand to Rosé’s face to test that she’s really here, but stops halfway. Rosé grabs her hand and rests it there herself, and Denali gives in, cupping Rosé’s cheek and feeling her warmth.

“I told you you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I love you,” Denali says.

“I love you too.”

An act of true love, Denali realizes. Just as her ice had frozen Rosé, it was her love that thawed her.

Denali leans down to kiss her again, and even though she knows they have to return home, that she has to fix the mess she left behind, she has Rosé in her arms, now and forever, and she’s never going to let go.

[avenging-fandoms]

Old County Fair / Chris Evans

plot: the weekend after the fourth of july, the town of Stark, Texas hosts an annual county fair that drives in people from all around. when yn’s friend drags her along to the new fair after moving in, yn doesn’t expect to meet the cowboy of her dreams.

word count:

*warning: smut! (save a horse... ride a cowboy)

*a/n: woah an imagine!! i’m so proud and excited for this!! it might be a series👀

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you set the last box down in your hot room, plugging in the fan and sitting in front of it. beads of sweat fall from your forehead and down your face, landing on your chest.

“moving into an apartment, with stairs, in july, in texas, is the worse thing on planet earth. i would rather die than ever do that again” amelia falls on your bed, catching her breath. you chuckle softly at your best friend.

“well, i guess we’re never moving. and if we do, we’re doing it in a cold month. but at least we’ve got good jobs, a good place, i’m happy for us, amelia” you smile over at her and she returns it.

“hey, i saw a sign for a town fair that’s going on today, saturday and sunday. wanna go?” amelia shower you the picture of the sign, and you shrug.

“sure why not, sounds like fun. it just started not that long ago” you gather clothes you’re going to wear after you get out of the shower. “i’m gonna get in the shower, i won’t take long” you say and she nods.

“okay. hey!” you turn to her in the bathroom doorframe. “maybe we’ll see some cute town boys. i have a feeling there’s a few” you scrunch your nose.

“not interested. i just want the fair food!”

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amelia found a parking spot, a gust of wind flying into the hot summer evening. “it is a perfect day for this fair! i’m so glad we’re here, yn” amelia links arms with you and you two walk around.

the delicious smell of fair food filled your nose, bringing you back to when you used to go to the town fairs with your friends and family back home. “it smells just like home”

“well duh, all fairs are the same! let’s see, what can we do to entertain ourselves?” amelia looked around, until she spotted bleachers and a fence. “what is that, tractor pulling?” you and amelia sit in the middle on the bleachers, and a couple minutes later you hear banging against a gate.

“amelia, it’s not tractors, it’s bulls! oh my god!” you smile ear to ear, happy to know the event. “i used to love watching these with my dad. we would always place bets on the rider. whoever won had to clean”

amelia smiles, resting her head on your shoulder. soon the event started, the announcer making a dramatic start.

“lllladies and gentlemen. it is the 137th annual Stark County Fair! can i get a hell yeah if you’re excited for our bull riding competition?” you screamed ‘hell yeah’ , so happy to see this event again. “first up, chris evans!” he sits down on his bull, making sure he was in and ready. he raised up his hand, signally he was ready. “on your mark, get set.... go!” the door opens, the bull dancing and bucking, but chris stayed on. he threw his hat off and it came off to you, nearly hitting you in the face.

you examine it, running your fingers over the detail. “woah, yn, you’ve got cute cowboy’s hat” she placed it on your head and you two laughed, and the bell rang. you placed it back on your lap and cheered. he waved and walked off, touching his head and realizing he didn’t have his hat.

your breath hitches in your throat, amelia shoving your shoulder a little bit. you sigh and hop off the bleachers, heading over to where he stood. you waved him down and he nodded at you, jogging towards you. “i believe this is yours”

“thank you for catching it, i was afraid i had lost it. but now i’m glad to know it was safe in your pretty little hands” his southern accent caught you off-guard, his words making your cheeks heat up.

“well i’m glad i was the one who caught it for such a cute cowboy” you place it on top of his head and he smiles, nodding his head at you. 

“are you doing anything after the show?” 

“i actually came with-”

“yn! there you are, i was starting to think you volunteered to ride a bull. i know your dad never wanted you to ride a bull” you close your mouth and turn to amelia. “well hello cowboy. you did some good riding out there, glad my girl could catch it for you” 

“me too” he winks at you and you blush, rolling your lips between your teeth. “my buddy sebastian is about to ride. seb!” another cute cowboy came strutting next to chris, and you see amelia’s jaw drop.

“my my.. i didn’t know there was going to be a smokeshow at the fair tonight” sebastian took amelia’s hand, kissing the back of it softly. 

“i’ll come watch you ride.. is that okay?” amelia asks and you smile and wink, nodding.

“have fun, text me later” she nods and the two walk off, leaving you and chris by yourself. “how long have you been riding?” you ask, walking along side chris as you two walk around the fair. 

“since i was a little boy. my dad always rode, and i loved watching him. i heard that your dad didn’t want you to ride”

you laugh, playing with the hem of your shirt. “yeah, i grew up watching bull riding, but he always told me it was too dangerous for girls. i’ve always wanted to ride” you sigh and he smirks, making heat rise to your cheeks. 

“i can always show you how to ride, doll” he winks and you try and hide your smile, but it doesn’t work. “you want me to show you?”

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your fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt, climbing into his lap in the driver’s seat of his truck. chris grunts into your mouth as your fingers pull at his belt, slowly rocking your hips against his. 

“chris..” you moan, his teeth biting at your neck and groaning as your hands trail into his boxers. you smirk as he pushes his jeans and underwear down, his leaking cock springing free. “so big and thick” you breathe, licking your hand and pumping him slowly, his mouth hanging open. 

chris’ fingers slowly unbutton your shorts, pushing them down and pulling you forward. he pulls a condom out of his wallet, checking the date before opening it and sliding it on. you hold yourself above him, slowly putting your hips down and hissing as he stretches you out. you sit down on him, thighs trembling, chris smiling. he slowly picks your hips up, pulling you back down again. 

“good girl.. does my cock fill your tight little pussy up so good?” you bite your lip, nodding and holding his biceps as you slowly start to bounce your hips. chris takes his hat off, placing it on your head and tipping it forward a bit. “you really are a good rider, miss yn” you moan and hold onto the hat as he thrusts his hips up. 

you lay his seat back, chris flipping you on your knees. you hold the headrest of the seat, biting your arm as he held your hips and pounded into you. “fuck chris.. fuck you feel so fucking good.. yes right there.. please” you held the hat on your head, chris smiling. 

“you look so fucking beautiful in my hat, doll. but i bet you look even more beautiful when you cum. are you close, baby?” he panted, kissing your shoulder. you hum, nodding your head. “come on, pretty girl. cum on my cock, i know you can do it”

you push back against him and your thighs tremble, gripping the seat. chris grunts, slamming his hips into yours once more before he came, rubbing his hands up and down your back. chris kisses your neck, slowly rolling you on your back and kissing you a couple of times. “i was right.. you are beautiful when you cum” you blush, hiding your face in your hands. chris laughs, taking off the condom and throwing it away in the trash can next to his truck. you clean yourself up, getting dressed again and sitting in his passenger seat. 

chris sits in his driver seat, buckling his belt and looking at you, rubbing your chin. you smile, kissing his palm. he looks at the hat and then you, leaning forward and kissing you. 

the radio softly played music from chris’ preferred station, the roads quiet at 1 in the morning. he pulls into your driveway, your car still there and amelia’s next to it, meaning she was home. “you wanna have a sleepover at my house?” you ask, chris chuckling. 

“maybe another night. i have to get up bright and early for another day of working at the fair, but maybe another night” he holds your chin and you rest your hands on the center counsel, kissing him with more passion than you did before. you hop out of the seat, shutting the door and walking towards your front door. “i expect to see you at the fair tomorrow to return my hat” he said, making you laugh and blow a kiss.

“call me when you get home safe, okay?” you say and he nods. you quickly run over, pecking his lips once more before heading inside, the house quiet. you head up to your room, throwing your bag on your floor and kicking your shoes off, flopping on your bed with the hat over your eyes, making you smile. 

[sheerfreesia007]

Title: Finding Love In Legacy Oaks pt. 9.5

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x OFC

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Words: 3,877

Warnings: Smut, hand job, masturbation, humping & grinding

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo

Author Notes: We start getting into a little bit of smut now. This chapter is way more Whiskey centric which I enjoyed writing. It feels like ages since I actually wrote solely for him.

Gif Credit: Google

Jack groaned low in his throat as he watched Bunny slowly crawl up his body. Her body was hovering over him while he laid on his bed watching her body avidly as she moved. A sultry grin was spread across her face and her eyes sparkled with adoration and lust for him which made Jack’s breath catch in his chest. As her body crawled up his own, the white shirt she was wearing dragged along his skin causing goosebumps to erupt wherever the shirt touched. His eyes widened as he recognized the oversized white shirt she was wearing. She stopped to sit straddling his hips as she sat up pressing her hands to his lower stomach.

The words ‘I heart cowboys’ danced in front of his eyes and Jack moaned loudly as his hips bucked up into hers. Bunny chuckled softly as her hands splayed out over his chest steadying herself above him. Her hair framed her face as she gazed down at him, a soft smirk flitting over her lips. Her nails lightly scratched at his skin and Jack gasped softly at the sensation.

“Like what you see huh Jack?” She purred at him softly in a raspy morning voice that managed to set his blood on fire. His hands came up to grip at her hips before dragging her forward and back on him. He could feel her slick folds gliding across his hard cock and the sensation of it made me hungrier for her. Hungrier for her body that she was teasing him with.

“You know I do sweetheart.” He drawled out lowly to her and he watched as her eyes began to sparkle with mischief. Jack moaned loudly as he threw his head back into his pillow as Bunny began to grind against him earnestly. Her hips moved in perfect rhythm against his own bucking hips escalating his desire and arousal to heights he hadn’t been at in years. “Fuck Bunny.” He hissed out and she laughed brightly at his words before she gasped at a particular downward swing of her hips.

She hummed above him and Jack watched as she pressed one hand to his chest as the other fisted the hem of her shirt pulling it tight against her body. Jack’s eyes eagerly took her in as she teasingly inched the shirt up her stomach before letting it fall back down to cover her body. Her hips were still grinding against his own and his cock was caught between the two of them making Jack groan out loudly.

“Mmmhmmm, oh I know you like it baby.” She purred at him and Jack felt his stomach muscles clench tightly at her sultry purr. “C’mon baby, I wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy.” She teased him, grinning widely at her joke. Jack burst out in soft surprised laughter, he was shocked that she could joke at a time like this as they both wound each other up. He couldn’t even begin to form thoughts together let alone be able to crack a joke that was relevant to this situation.

“Shit honey, we’ll be saving so many horses.” He groaned out as he bucked his hips upward again. Her body surged above him and Jack watched as her whole body moved fluidly above him as if she was on a bucking bronco and from his view she was effortlessly taming the beast. Jack panted heavily as his arousal climbed higher and higher, a delicious heat was swiftly consuming his body as he bucked and ground his hips against hers.

Suddenly Jack felt the head of his cock catch at her entrance as her hips rolled over his cock. Pleasure burst inside of his veins like fireworks on the fourth of July, singeing his blood vessels and nerve endings as he cried out in pleasure.

Jack jolted awake and snapped his eyes open as the remnants of his dream slipped away from his mind like smoke in the air. Blinking his eyes rapidly he took in his surroundings and found that he was lying in his bed as the sun was just barely beginning to lighten the dark sky outside his windows. Groaning low in his throat Jack rubbed a hand down his face trying to swipe away the sleep from his eyes. He was still panting heavily like he had been in his dream.

Jack’s eyes widened almost comically as he thought back to his dream with Bunny. It had been quite some time since he’d last had a dream so graphic and the fact that Bunny had been the star of it this time around stuck firmly in his brain. As his mind slowly began to calm Jack suddenly felt the cooling damp pajama pants against his groin area and he grunted softly at the feel of the wet fabric against his skin. Looking down his body he frowned as he saw the wet spot on his bed sheet, he apparently had been pent up for much longer than he’d thought for him to not only make a mess in his pants but for it to be so much that it dampened the bed sheet as well.

“Shit.” He sighed out softly in a hiss. “Having fuckin’ wet dreams about the pretty neighbor now.” Sitting up in bed Jack shifted his hips so that the damp spot on the bed sheet was no longer against his crotch area and grimaced at the sight. His pajama pants were a lost cause until he got up. “What are we preteens again?” Jack asked softly out loud to the room and cringed at the distant memories of his teenage years.

Sighing once again Jack got up out of bed and began to strip the bed. Setting all the dirty bedding to the side on the floor he quickly remade the bed in a soft set of sheets in a dark gray color.

Walking over to the en-suite bathroom Jack quickly strips out of his dirty clothes and throws them onto the dirty bed sheets on the floor before entering the bathroom. He turns the shower on hot and sets out a towel for himself once he’s done.

Stepping into the shower Jack sighs loudly and lets the almost scalding hot water rush over him heating his skin. He grabs the bar of soap sitting in the small dish in the shower wall and begins to lather his body. He looks down as his hands glide the soap across his stomach and Jack’s eyes catch on the fuchsia painted nails of his hand. He smiles softly as he remembers the fun afternoon of letting Bunny paint his nails. The way she had been so energetic with the gaggle of little girls surrounding her made him envious. She always seemed to know how to engage with the kids around her in a way that set them all at ease as well allowing them to open up to her. And the way she had happily chatted with them about whatever came across their minds was amazing to him.

But what had really stuck with Jack was the way that she had held his hands in hers. The way her soft silky skin had slid against his own as they cupped and cradled around his. The way her smaller fingers would twist and turn his fingers so that she could effectively paint his nails. Her longer nails had dragged across his skin a few times as she manipulated his hands and each time it would make Jack shiver.

Closing his eyes softly he tilts his head back letting the water hit his neck and flow downward to wash the suds off his body. He can still feel Bunny’s soft hands cradling his hands as she meticulously painted his nails. Her agile fingers swiping the color polish across his nails carefully. The way her lips would perk up teasingly as her eyes tracked the coats of polish, no doubt laughing at the color choice for him.

Jack groaned softly as his hands slid further down his stomach rubbing the soap along his skin. He could only imagine what her soft silky hands would feel like against the taught skin on his hips or the way her fingers would dance down his stomach. Moaning softly Jack set the soap back in its dish as his other hand gripped his semi erect cock and began to pump up and down slowly.

He felt himself harden in his palm and he grunted softly before slapping his other hand against the tiled wall and let his head fall forward. He started slowly with his movement letting his hand slide from base to tip. His breath hitched as he circled his thumb around the head of his cock.

He imagined Bunny pressing her naked front to his back as she shared the shower with him. He imagined her hands would slap his hand away before gripping him firmly in her much smaller but delicate soft hand. She would be able to tell how he liked to be touched by listening to his pleasured moans as they rang out softly in the shower. Her hand that wasn’t pumping his cock would be splayed out against his chest dragging her brightly colored nails through his chest hair and down to his stomach creating red streaks on his skin.

Jack gasped loudly into the heated humid air of the shower as his hand tightened around his cock and dragged deliciously up and down it. He could just imagine her pressing soft kisses to his shoulder blades before biting down hard. A loud guttural moan burst from Jack’s throat at the imaginary Bunny biting and nipping at his back as she jerked him off with her hand whispering sweet words of encouragement into his skin. She’d tell that he was doing so well for her that she loved how he felt in her hands. She’d tell him that she couldn’t wait to do more than just touch him.

Panting loudly in the shower Jack could feel his orgasm beginning to crest. He sped up his pace and tightened his grip even more around himself. Grunting he felt his body begin to overheat with his arousal and exertion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He panted out softly as he slapped his hand against the tiles again. His orgasm burst low in his stomach and Jack groaned low in his throat as he felt himself cum. His eyes darted down to his cock to watch as spurts of his cum hit the tiled wall of the shower. Slowing his movement he panted out breaths trying to ride out his orgasm and slow his heart rate down. “Fuck.” He gasped softly and took a step back in the shower. Water slid down his body and Jack watched as his cum was washed down the drain.

Shaking his head he rinsed the shower walls before turning off the shower and stepping out. Grabbing the towel he quickly dried himself off before fastening the towel around his waist. He knew he was attracted to Bunny, she was a beautiful woman who had a large giving heart that never seemed to stop accepting those around her. Her wit and charm was undeniable as it was evident that everyone around her seemed to love her just as much as she did them.

Jack’s mind raced as he walked into his bedroom and began to get dressed for the day. Bunny was quickly becoming a staple in his and Esme’s life. Her weekly classes with Esme for Yoga and always seeing her out walking Butter. And not to mention all the community get-togethers that were held where she was always helping out and going above and beyond for her neighbors. She had easily slipped into their lives without him realizing and he oddly wasn’t opposed to it. Though he figured he should be what with his past.

And while she went above and beyond for him right after he had moved here with Esme, Jack still couldn’t seem to bring himself to completely open up to the kind hearted woman. It wasn’t anything about her, he knew that without a doubt in his mind. No, it had nothing to do with her but with the situation that he found himself in after Maria was murdered.

Jack sighed softly as he slipped a white shirt over his head. Maria. The thought of his late wife had melancholy rising up inside Jack until he gasped out a soft breath. He could picture her smiling happy face looking up at him as told him about her day. The fact that she was snatched from him way too early still caused his heart to stutter in his chest.

As he stood in front of his dresser still in the towel he wondered how it was possible for him to be starting the journey of moving forward with his life and having the desire to share it with someone like Bunny but still being so deeply affected by Maria’s death. He knew it was because of the men who had killed Maria that he would never be able to open up to someone. But he wanted to, he wanted to open up to Bunny and let her into his life. He didn’t like lying to Bunny like he had the other day at the get-together, he wanted to tell her about his career and his past. But he couldn’t risk putting anyone else in danger of being hurt. Hell the fact that Esme was possibly in danger at any given time always seemed to have Jack on edge and at the ready at all times.

The men who had killed Maria were still at large, Statesman hadn’t been able to track them down or bring them in yet. They had covered their tracks well and made things look like a store burglary gone wrong but after investigating Jack knew that it was much bigger than that. The two idiots at the grocery store had only been insignificant pawns in a larger drug ring that then expanded beyond just Jack’s small hometown. And at the center of it was a king pin shrouded in mystery.

Jack knew that Statesman was still searching for him, he had just checked on the case this past week in the active cases department. They still weren’t any closer to finding a way to the king pin or any of his close knit associates. Jack sighed softly, feeling the frustration rise up inside him. The department had only been able to gather the intel that the kingpin knew Jack personally because of a prior mission that landed the kingpin in jail and now he was targeting Jack. But after all the years of working in Statesman Jack had put away a lot of bad men in his career, it would be hard to pick just one of them all.

He had to uproot his daughter and his life, they had to go to speech therapy to lessen their southern accents, had to move to two separate different place before landing here and they had been advised to reestablish a different sense of style. Statesman agents were directed to constantly be on surveillance of Jack and Esme, which was the only reason why they didn’t have to change their names. Jack turned his head slightly to the left and saw the extra-large armoire in the corner of his room. He walked over to it and opened the doors silently, inside were three computer screens that showed various camera angles around his house and outside as well. On the third computer screen there was a program window opened that showed two pinpoints on a map, showing the location of both Jack and Esme.

They would always be tracked until this case was closed. Jack worried about Esme always being in a protective order, while she was still young to not realize that she had agents always keeping track of her there would be a time that she would know. Shaking his head silently Jack sighed softly, he worried so much that this would negatively affect Esme somehow. But he knew it needed to be done to make sure that they were safe. He couldn’t bring himself to bring this type of upheaval to someone else’s life, so while he felt bad that he had lied to Bunny about his career and he would continue to lie to her to keep her safe.

Jack slowly shut the armoire doors and turned back to his dresser and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs before slipping them on underneath his towel. He knew in his line of work that he would be able to successfully lie to Bunny while still growing closer to her and possibly developing a relationship with her, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to come out of it unscathed in the end. He resolutely came to the decision that he wanted Bunny in his life, she was good for both him and Esme. She brought so much happiness and lightness to their lives in a place where they could be swallowed by the darkness lurking at the edges.

He knew he was being selfish with his choice of continuing to lie to her while keeping her close to him. But the alternative was too morose for him to think about. He couldn’t imagine Bunny not being there.

Nodding his head Jack quickly got dressed for the day and walked out of his bedroom starting the day chores before getting Esme up and going for the day. He would continue to develop and nurture the relationship with Bunny and hopefully it wouldn’t blow up in his face.

*-*-*-*

Later that morning as Jack was ushering Esme out the front door he heard a frustrated cry and the sound of rapid pitter patter of feet against the ground. He looked up and spotted Butter rushing across the street with his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his leash flying through the air behind him almost like a really thin cape.

“Butter!” called out Esme surprised and Jack snorted loudly as he watched Butter bark happily and continue his path towards them. Looking past Butter Jack saw Bunny quickly rushing across the street towards them as well, her face set in an angry scowl as she glared daggers at Butter. “Good morning Butter.” Esme greeted happily as she bent down and snagged his leash that was wriggling across the pavement as he danced around her. She laughed happily at the dog’s antics before beginning to walk towards the front gate where Bunny was making a beeline to.

“I think Butter’s being a bad boy this morning.” Jack mused fondly as he easily locked the front door before turning and watching as Bunny met Esme at their gate. Jack was reminded of his earlier dream and almost tripped over his own feet as he took a step to where Esme and Bunny were standing. His thoughts racing to Bunny straddling him in bed and her hands gliding over his body. Jack could feel the pit in his stomach grow hot as he got closer to her. Her face held a frustrated scowl as she looked down at Butter and Jack watched as some strands of hair fell out of her ponytail to frame her face. He wanted to reach out and brush them back behind her ear.

“I’m so sorry.” Bunny said apologetically as stood in front of Esme. “I’ve got construction guys in the backyard and can’t put Butter out there like normal so he’s acting up in retaliation.” She explained and Esme giggled brightly in delight. Jack scoffed softly as he looked down at Butter giving himself a bit of reprieve from his inappropriate thoughts.

“What kind of construction do you have going on?” Jack asked curiously before looking up at Bunny. She turned her head to him and beamed happily and Jack felt his stomach clench in desire. He felt himself grow hot all over again and he felt his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. Jack coughed slightly shifting on his feet before his hand came up to play with the ends of his mustache as he tried not to let his dilemma show outwardly. Thankfully Bunny didn’t seem to notice Jack’s predicament as she began waving her hands about explaining what she had going on in her backyard.

“I’m having a greenhouse built in the backyard. Mrs. Parker has a really pretty one where she’s able to grow some fruits and vegetables year round. She helped me pick out a company that would be able to build a decent sized greenhouse in the back corner of the yard. I’m actually quite excited about it.” She said hurriedly in her excitement and Jack couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. His eyes danced up and down her body from her excited happy face that just seemed to shine with a glow. Down to her navy blue tank top with sunflowers on it and finally to her knee length khakis and sandals that she wore on her feet. Jack nearly groaned loudly into his hand when he saw that her toe nails were painted a pretty coral color. His fingers brushed against his mustache again trying to distract himself from where his thoughts wanted to turn.

“That sounds so cool!” Esme said excitedly and Bunny nodded her head down at her. “Can I go in once it’s done?” she asked hopefully and Bunny smiled widely at her.

“Of course you can. Who else is gonna help me pick out the right plants and flowers for it?” Bunny asked in a way that made it sound like it was a no brainer that Esme would be allowed in. Esme squealed loudly and hugged Bunny around her waist. Jack watched the exchange fondly as his body finally began to settle down. When he looked up to Bunny he caught her eye and she smiled softly at him. “You okay Jack? Something wrong with the ‘stache?” she asked, teasing him and Jack immediately dropped his hand.

“No, no, that's just my thinking face.” He said easily, once again lying to Bunny, and he felt the guilt starting to build before he quickly pushed it away knowing that he was keeping her safe.

“Daddy! That’s not your thinking face. This is your thinking face.” Esme said defiantly as she furrowed her eyebrows and her lips set in a firm line. Bunny laughed loudly at Esme’s face and grinned over at Jack as he was called out by his daughter. His hand came up again to play with the ends of his mustache and Bunny’s eyes twinkled in delight.

“Yeah well this is my other thinking face.” Jack amended and Bunny laughed again.

“Alright well we gotta get going so I can get back to the house. I’ll see you guys later. Have a good day today!” Bunny said happily with a wave as she took the leash from Esme and began walking Butter back across the street to her house. Jack watched Bunny’s retreating back feeling a mix of emotions for the woman who was now the star of his dreams.