#bartender!gwyn

[secret-third-thing]

The Syren - 5,922 words - Rated E - CW: Smut

Gwyn Berdara is more than just the bartender at The Syren, she's the heart and soul of the place. She rebuilt the old pub from the ground up, turning it into a cocktail bar, and is fully committed to its success. She's always drawn the line at flirting with her customers, but when a patron begins quizzing her cocktail recipes, Gwyn finds herself willing to bend her rules.

This story is written from the ACOTAR Writing Circle. It will be continued by a different writer on 2 July and finished by a third on 23 July. Both parts will be added to this same work on AO3, or you can find the continued works through the Masterlist on @azrielshadowssing's page.

Part 1 by @headcanonheadcase | Part 2 under the cut | A03

Gwyn and Azriel texted back and forth that week and the weeks after. It had started innocently enough, with Azriel asking her the ingredients to the Adonis (again). Gwyn had carefully explained, knowing full well he could find out himself with a quick search on the internet. Occasionally, when he would ask for something a bit more complicated, she would send him video tutorials that she "threw together quickly." Gwyn would never admit that she had bribed Nesta with an extra day off if she'd help her film and edit those videos.

Though sometimes, the texts would straddle the line between safe and sexy, which Gwyn didn't mind in the slightest if she were being honest. And Gwyn especially didn't mind right now, as she lay curled up in her bed, her phone the only light source in her room. Azriel started typing. 

Bronco: What's the difference between a sidecar and between the sheets? 

Gwyn chuckled to herself and typed out a response: "Is this a setup to a bad pickup line?"

Bronco: The drinks, Syren. 

Gwyn sent him a laughing emoji and: Between the Sheets uses rum. Sidecar is cognac. She bit her lip and then typed out. I can give you a taste next time you come.

Azriel started typing. Then stopped. Then started again. Gwyn put her phone down while she waited and let her hand drift down her thighs until she reached the hem of her underwear and hesitated. She hadn't meant for this situation to go this far, hadn't meant to talk this much or think about him as often as she did. Gwyn had expected him to hit her up occasionally for a hookup, not text her nearly every day.

She slipped her hand underneath the cotton and gently rubbed her clit in little circles. Ever since they had fucked in her car, she had been thinking about him. The way he filled and stretched her and - Her phone vibrated again. 

Bronco: Of you too, I hope. 

Gwyn groaned and did her best to type with one hand.

The Syren: Oh? And that's all? 

Azriel started typing again. God, he took forever.

Gwyn set her phone down, peeled her underwear and nightshirt off, and tossed them to a far corner of her room. Spreading her legs, she savored the feeling of the cool night air against her skin. Starting at her breasts, Gwyn slowly ran her hands down her body, grazing gently over the curves of her breasts, around her nipples, and down the flat planes of her stomach until she reached her inner thighs. 

She sighed, her fingers ghosting over her skin, wondering if Azriel would dare be this gentle. If, given the time, he would have savored her like this. She reached back to her breasts and squeezed them, running her thumbs over her nipples like he had that night in her Bronco. Teasing her until he had taken her breast out, and - she groaned. Imagining that tongue wrapping around her, sucking and pulling her nipple until it was hard and swollen. 

Gywn reached down to her pussy, lightly alternating, circling her entrance and her clit. The feeling of it gives way to a spasm of pleasure. She dipped her finger in, relishing how warm and wet she was. She imagined Azriel at the foot of her bed, breaths tickling her inner thigh as he circled her clit with his tongue. 

With her other hand, she reached for the vibrator and turned it on, using the lowest setting to continue teasing herself while she went back to playing with her breasts. Azriel would lick her first, his middle finger slowly inching in as he sucked on her clit. Then, when she was too busy groaning, he would slip in a second or third, almost too much,  and pull an orgasm from her before rubbing that massive cock of his against her, coating himself. Gwyn rubbed the shaft of the vibrator against herself in the same way, taking care to nudge against her clit to send jolts of pleasure to her lower stomach. 

Then when he was ready, Azriel would use his hand to guide his cock into her, pushing in gently, stretching her so much. She thought of how he had filled her perfectly when she had sunk down onto him that night. She pinched her nipple one more time before she brought her hand down to rub her clit. Carefully she pushed the vibrator in and out of her, coaxing herself to take more and more until the toy was buried to the hilt. Gwyn groaned at the familiar fullness. 

She rubbed her clit more furiously now as she moved the vibrator in and out of her. The sloppy wet sounds urged her to move faster, to try and match the pace from that night. She remembered how it felt to ride Azriel, the eroticism at seeing his length disappear into her as she sank down on him. At this, Gwyn set the vibrations higher and rubbed that spot inside her with every thrust of the toy, meeting it with her hips as she pushed herself higher and higher until…

Gwyn’s vision turned white as she felt herself spasm around the vibrator, her pussy gripping the toy so harshly that it almost hurt. Her back arched, and her toes curled as she rode that high, crying out into the dark of her room. She thought of Azriel then, too, groaning into her ear as he came inside her. 

She almost missed her phone buzzing as she came down from that high. She reached out to her side and patted the mattress until her hand caught the edge of the phone. She brought it to her face and squinted at the bright light. 

Bronco: We'll see. 

"Fuck!" Gwyn groaned into the darkness, all smiles and flushed cheeks. Fine, he wants to play coy, she thought; we can play coy. So with her head still filled with the vision of his amber eyes, she drifted to sleep.

Azriel had been strangely silent the rest of the week. Gwyn hated to admit it, but she checked her phone far too often, knowing full well that she had selected a unique text tone for if he messaged her. He was allowed to have a life outside of this, whatever this was, so Gwyn set to focusing on The Syren. Many new customers had come in late anyway, and every night was busier and busier. Not that she would complain.

Today she had decided to come in early with Emerie and Nesta to prepare for the weekend rush. An hour before opening, she had started prepping the lemons and other garnishes to make her night easier, oblivious to her friends creeping up on her from behind. 

"Earth to Gwyn. Anyone home?" Emerie waved her hand in front of the redhead. Nesta shook her head with a chuckle as she took out the container for the lemon slices and handed them to Gywn. 

"Oh, sorry," Gwyn said, punctuated with a laugh. She put the knife down and wiped her hands on a towel. "I've got a lot on my mind." 

Nesta held her hands out. "A lot?" She moved her hands farther away from one another. "Or A lot?"

"Oh, shut up!" Gwyn said, giving her a withering stare and scooping the slices into a bin. "Don't you have work to do?"  

 Emerie cackled at this. "She does, or do you have another video you want to send?" 

"Ruthless!" Gwyn said, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Seriously though, do you mind giving the tables one more wipe down?" Nesta gave a thumbs up and started polishing the wood. Gwyn knew she could be meticulous; that's what made The Syren so damn good. If the influx of customers stayed around, she'd have enough to make some of those quality-of-life improvements she'd wanted. 

When Emerie opened the bar, it was quick to fill up. Gaggles of college-aged girls and their friends stumbled in alongside The Syren's regulars. This evening was busier than most, giving Gwyn little time to think about anything other than churning out order after order. Gin and Tonics, Godfathers, Whiskey Neat. Vodka shots. At the very least, the rhythm was comforting and kept her hands busy. 

She felt the pocket of her jeans buzz and sent her hand flying to her pants pocket. She pulled out her phone and rolled her eyes when she saw it was Emerie, who gave her a knowing smile from across the room.

Emerie: Look who just arrived. 

Gwyn heard the boom of Cassian's voice first, boisterous enough to carry over the persistent hum of the bar's patrons. As usual, he was making his way to Nesta's side with a party of newcomers trailing behind him. Gwyn scanned the group until she locked eyes with Azriel, who, after whispering something in Cassian's ear, wandered to the bar, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. 

Gywn took an order from another guest and set out to make their drink as Azriel settled into his seat. She poured the drink and handed it to the customer on her left, then she turned to face her favorite customer, a smile lighting up her face. She wondered if he noticed the teal of her lacy bra peaking out from under her tanktop, that she had worn her nice jeans… or that her hair was pulled back to highlight her clavicles just so. 

"What's it going to be this time?" she said, leaning forward on the bar, giving him an eyeful of her cleavage again. She smirked when she caught his eyes dart down momentarily before meeting her gaze. "Sidecar or …?" She prompted. 

"Between the sheets," he replied in his smooth, silky voice. Gwyn hummed thoughtfully and started pulling the bottles of rum and cognac from the shelf. She gathered her supplies and returned to him.

"Care for a demonstration?" she said as she grabbed an orange for a garnish. 

"If you're offering," he said with a playful lilt. Gwyn started preparing the drink and looked back to where Cassian's hearty laugh danced across the room. Nesta was spending her break leaning into the man's arms, chatting amicably with the others at the table. 

"Who did Cassian bring this time? Haven't seen them around before." Gwyn said, pouring the drink into a cocktail shaker and beginning to mix the beverage. 

"Just some old friends," he said with a shrug. Something about how he said that seemed…off, but Gwyn didn't comment. She simply nodded and poured the drink into a coupe glass. 

"Enjoy. I'll see you on my break if you'd like to taste something else," she said cocking her brow. "Same place, same time." 

Azriel nodded and took a drink, swiping his tongue over his lips. "Delicious" 

Then, the blond sitting at Cassian's booth walked over, long blond hair tossed effortlessly over her shoulder. Gwyn had to admit that she was gorgeous and walked like she knew it, earning appreciative stares from the patrons around her. Standing at the counter next to Azriel, she propped her elbow on it. 

"What are you drinking?" she asked him. Before he could say, she plucked the drink, took a sip, and grinned. "Oooh, that's super good," she said, placing Azriel's glass in front of him. He looked like he was about to say something, mouth open, but thought better of it. He took another sip of his drink. 

"Can I help you?" Gwyn said, feeling her stomach churn a bit. Who the hell is this?

"I'd love a Long Island ice tea," the blonde said with a wink to Gwyn. 

Gwyn gave her thin-lipped smile. "Sure thing. Do you want me to start a tab?" 

"No, no, Cass is paying for me today," she said with a giggle gesturing back to the booth where the rest of Azriel's friends were enjoying themselves. Gwyn's eyes darted to Azriel, but he avoided her gaze, cheeks tinted pink.

Gwyn hummed and started with the woman's drink. The woman started chatting again. 

"Why don't you come sit with the rest of us?" She lightly tapped his shoulder. "We're bored watching you from across the bar. Besides, you have to officially meet Nesta." Her voice took a sing-song quality when she mentioned Gwyn's friend. 

Azriel seemed to ponder this for a moment, his eyes darting from Gwyn back to his companion. "I.." he started, all the bravado from before dying on his tongue. 

Gwyn set the drink down in front of the woman without a word while this went on. Was she being petty? Probably. She didn't care. 

"Alright," Azriel finally said. He dragged himself away from the bar and carried the Long Island Ice tea with him as the blond woman waded back to the booth. Gwyn turned away, but not before catching him looking back at her. 

With a huff, Gwyn returned to that rhythm from before, taking orders, pouring drinks, and stuffing the cash tips into the jar she kept to share between employees. Occasionally, she'd glance up to see Azriel tucked into the booth, looking at the blond with the saddest pair of eyes. Ugh. Whatever, it was just a hookup. There would be others, Gwyn told herself. 

Thankfully her break came soon enough, and she placed her apron on a hook. She walked out to the parking lot and locked herself in her Bronco, waiting to see if Azriel would come to her. 

[pierrot-dokki]

Modern AU

Biker Gwyn escaping home to a new town with her bike, making new friends, and possibly falling in love with a certain bartender?

The bartender is in love too but he needs to get past her new friends first 🫢

Millie belongs to @the-ozzie

Calypso belongs to @dwightschrute11

—————————————————————

my god i have been away for so long but i am back!! i have had this biker gwyn idea in my head for a while now and i finally drew it ㅜㅜ i miss you all so much

bonus: blud thinks he’s the only competition

[letstrytoohard]

Me, with my WIP sitting untouched for over a month:

Gwyn: hot redhead barista and bartender

Azriel: hot emo man who lost a bet and has to perform exceptionally bad slam poetry at a bar

She can’t stop laughing at him and he’s intrigued by the cute girl who’s laugh sounds like a song

(Perhaps they bone in the bathroom👀 who knows?)

[kopfkino-o]

okay modern acotar au but the setting is a shitty local bar and I might or might not have been tipsy when I wrote this.

Rhys inherited this crusty bar from his business tycoon father and, despite being utterly incapable of maintaining a well respectable establishment, he lowkey loves being able to boss the staff around and enjoys the all the “free” booze whenever he wants. No he does not file taxes. But he has given his wife, Feyre, creative reign over the place and she painted the walls herself, which was definitely a choice, but the patrons don’t really seem to mind the various eyeballs staring down at them so it sort of works for the place.

Cassian works security with Jurian but most nights he is the one who ends up starting something and it lowkey causes a lot of insurance liabilities but Rhys isn't really worried about all that. Cas also can’t stop sniffing after veteran bartender, Nesta, who will definitely throw your ass out if you so much as look at her wrong. The tension between them is causing a lot of “bad vibes” for the bar’s regulars, Lucien and Eris, who only come to this shithole establishment to get away from their dad (he’s sleeping on their couch because their mom left him for another man). Tamlin always wants to hangout, especially on open mic nights, but he doesn’t have a car and Eris refuses to drive a few extra minutes to pick him up because he doesn't want "unnecessary mileage" on his 2008 beat to shit BWM.

Elain works the front well because she’s the only one who can use the bar's new POS system and Mor waits tables because she’s a customer favorite (she's comps drinks for literally everyone). But there’s really no need for three bartenders on every shift (the bar gets like five customers, max) and Nesta definitely has that shit handled, so most nights Mor and Elain just sit out back near the dumpsters drinking wine coolers and gossiping. They occasionally upload TikTok videos with Gwyn and Emerie, two waitresses who work at the restaurant next door, but Rhys and Feyre let it slide because it’s good publicity.

Vassa, Tarquin, and Helion occasionally meet up at the bar after work (they work at the pr firm across the street) but only because the drinks are cheap and their asshole boss, Amarantha, thinks the establishment is "below her", so they don't feel obligated to invite her along. Helion has slept with like half the staff, and has some weird thing going on with one of the regular's mom, but he always tips well and at least he's consistent. Once, Tarquin let Cassian borrow his boat so he could take Nesta on a date, but he crashed it into a dock when he was trying to park and it ended up being this whole thing. Amren, the lawyer Feyre hired, has sorta advised the staff to refrain from talking about all that though.

Azriel, the bar manager, smokes cigarettes in the old walk-in cooler (Feyre painted it one night during a staff party) between shifts and wonders how the fuck he ended up being in charge of keeping this trainwreck running. He would have quit the job five years ago but he needs the money and Rhys at least offers half decent health insurance. The bar occasionally gets letters from Beron, the local health inspector who is totally on Rhysand’s case, but Az just throws them away in the raccoon infested dumpster outback (the girls swear they haven’t been feeding them) and yearns for the day this whole shitshow finally gets shut down.

Oh, the baby? Yeah he handles accounting and the shadow monster in the basement is in charge of the social media. don't ask.

[heartofbooksandtea]

Guilty Pleasure Chapter 2!

Read below or here :)

***

Loud. That was the only way Gwyn could describe the building looming in front of her. It looked unsuspecting from the outside, but the music flowing out from its walls suggested it was anything but. 

Gwyn had almost talked herself out of coming here about twenty times. She’d been pacing back and forth in the training ring trying to decide if this was a good idea when Azriel joined her, asking if she was ready. 

It took her a good minute to process the question because the shadowsinger had ditched his usual leathers for a black button-up shirt and a pair of dress pants that hugged him perfectly. If the way his eyes swept up and down Gwyn’s own body was any indication, he appreciated her attempt at dressing up as well. She had snuck into Nesta’s room before training that morning to borrow a stunning dress of deepest blue that accentuated the curves Gwyn had built over the last year. She felt a bit guilty, but it wasn’t like she had many other options. Surely, Nesta would understand.

A dagger was strapped to her thigh under her dress as well. Just in case.

“Last chance to back out of this,” Azriel said, taking a step toward the wooden door.

“You don’t know me very well if you think I’m the type to back down from something,” Gwyn said. He didn’t need to know how close she’d come to doing exactly that. Multiple times. 

The shadowsinger just smiled and dropped his head. He pulled the door open, and the music washed over her in waves. She could feel it pulsing in her blood, her bones. 

“Lead the way, Berdara.”

The pleasure hall wasn’t what she’d been expecting. They’d stepped directly onto the dance floor when they entered. A live band played on a stage to the left, and couples danced to the beat. It wasn’t packed to the point that you couldn’t walk easily from one end of the dance floor to the other, but there were still a lot more people than Gwyn had seen at once in a long time.

There was a bar to the right and straight ahead past the dance floor was a darkened area that Gwyn couldn’t make out from here. 

Azriel leaned down to speak directly into her ear to be heard over the music. “Would you like a tour?”

She nodded in answer and, with a boldness she didn’t entirely feel, placed her hand in his so he could guide her. He squeezed once and set off in the direction of the bar. 

Patrons sat in stools around the bar. Some sat alone, scanning the room for potential targets while others sat huddled together in pairs. 

“This is the bar,” Azriel said, pulling out a stool in question. Gwyn raised a brow at his rather obvious observation, but she sat down. He remained standing next to her. With her sitting this high up, they were about the same height. 

Azriel placed a hand on the back of her chair and leaned in closer. “Can I get you a drink, Berdara?” 

The low rumble of his voice did not affect her at all. Not one bit. And she certainly didn’t feel it in certain areas of her body. 

“I’d like that,” she whispered back. “Something sweet, please.”

He nodded and leaned over the bar to place an order with the female tending the bar. While the bartender prepared their drinks, Gwyn fixed her gaze on the people dancing. They looked so carefree, so happy. They looked alive. 

She thought of all the time she’d wasted being so scared of the world around her. She didn’t want to be broken—not anymore. The male at Sangravah had taken enough from her; he would not get to take her future, too. 

With a straightened spine, Gwyn turned her gaze back to the bar to find a smiling Azriel with two drinks in his hands. He handed her an elegant glass filled with a pink liquid and kept the one filled with an amber-colored liquid. 

“Thank you,” Gwyn said.

Azriel clinked his glass against hers. He raised his glass to his lips but paused before taking a sip, waiting for her to do the same.

Gwyn kept her gaze locked on Azriel’s as she took a sip. 

“Wow, that’s so good.” It really was. The drink tasted like something reminiscent of berries with a tart edge to it. “What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey.”

“Can I try it?”

“You wouldn’t like it. Trust me.”

Gwyn narrowed her eyes, and she could tell that Azriel knew he’d made a mistake in telling her what she would and wouldn’t like. He handed the glass over with a sigh, foregoing an apology completely. 

She smiled triumphantly and kept smiling until the first drop of liquor hit her tongue. Horrendous. Atrocious. Vile. Cruel. She could go on. How anyone could enjoy the taste of that was beyond her, but if there was one thing she hated more than the taste of whiskey, it was being wrong.

“Delicious,” she said, giving the drink back with a sweet smile pasted on her lips.

“You know you’re a terrible liar, right?” Azriel said.

“No idea what you’re talking about. Speaking of liars, though, weren’t you going to give me a tour?”

Azriel chuckled in a way that told her he’d let her win this round. She didn’t know why, but Gwyn had a feeling he knew that she needed this. Needed easy, playful banter with someone she trusted before taking the leap she’d come here for.

“Well, as I’ve mentioned, this is the bar. Back there,” he said, pointing to the darkened area she’d noticed on their way in, “are private rooms. You can pay for anything from a dance to sex.”

“Wait, do I have to have sex here? If I were to pay for it?” There was no way she was going to walk into one of those rooms and have everyone know what she was about to do. Even worse, what if she couldn’t go through with it and had to walk back out immediately after entering?

“No, but it’s an option. Kind of a safety thing for people who aren’t comfortable taking a stranger home or leaving the premises.”

How often had Azriel been in one of those rooms? She chased the thought away with the rest of her drink.

“Of course, you could also go dance and meet someone that way. With your looks, Berdara, I don’t doubt you could pick anybody in this room that piques your interest and take them home with you.”

Dangerous. This was so dangerous. And yet, she couldn’t resist.

Gwyn set her empty glass down and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Not breaking his gaze, she said, “Are you calling me attractive, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel’s hand returned to the back of Gwyn’s chair, the wood creaking beneath his grip. 

“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

“It’s still nice to hear once in a while.”

“I think,” he said, leaning closer to her ear, “that if anything, people should be paying you just for the privilege of getting to look at you.”

The air between them became thick, filled with unasked questions and unknown possibilities.

It was too much. Gwyn couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in someone she could never have.

Gwyn cleared her throat and said, “Well I think that I’d like to go over to the dance floor. Find somebody there. Somebody to . . . um, sex me up or whatever.”

Azriel rasped out a laugh and let his head fall. He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. “All right, Berdara. Let’s get you ‘sexed up.’ Or whatever.” He took a last sip of his drink and left the rest abandoned on the bar. Gwyn rolled her eyes but jumped down from her stool to follow Az to the dance floor.

The band played a fast paced, upbeat tune that had people jumping around and wildly waving their arms. Gwyn’s heartbeat sped up to match the beat. 

Az fell into step beside her, letting Gwyn decide how deeply she wanted to delve into the sea of dancing bodies. Her eyes scanned the room as they weaved their way between couples. A few males stood off to the side, clearly waiting for an invitation.

Gwyn’s gaze settled on a male leaning against the far wall with a drink in his hands and a sinful smirk on his full lips. He had golden locks and pale skin and looked so opposite the male now hovering behind her that she knew immediately he was the right choice. Two females stood on either side of him, their hands roaming his body. He looked up to find Gwyn staring at him, and that smirk shifted into something downright dangerous.

“Him,” she said. “I want him.”

“Who?” Azriel asked.

Gwyn raised a hand to point in the male’s direction, then realized that a gesture like that would be far too obvious—especially considering the fact that his gaze still remained in Gwyn’s direction. 

“The tall male with the blond hair and arms the size of my head. Against that wall,” Gwyn said with a tilt of her head in the direction she meant to indicate.

Azriel stiffened.

“Absolutely not.”

“Az—”

“No. I’m serious, Gwyn. Anyone but him.”

“Why? Do you want him for yourself?”

“Cute.”

“Well, what’s your issue then? He’s extremely handsome, definitely looks like he knows what he’s doing, and doesn’t seem like the type to want a relationship. He’s perfect.” 

“That lecherous male is far from perfect. Trust me. Please, just pick somebody else. Anybody else.”

Something about his tone made her want to believe that he had a valid reason for being so adamant that she stay away from this male. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but Gwyn trusted Azriel completely. Still, she couldn’t resist the urge to play with him just a little bit. Let him sweat.

She turned her head to look at the shadowsinger. “I appreciate the advice, but I think I’ll go see for myself whether or not he’s worth my time.” Gwyn took a calming breath and stalked toward the golden-haired male.

Halfway to her destination, a shadow darted in front of her face. Gwyn paused, confused. Azriel’s shadows had been mostly hidden since they’d stepped foot in here. A moment later, a scarred hand that she could recognize in sleep and darkness gently wrapped around her arm.

When Azriel spun her around, she sucked in a breath at the sight of his eyes. They were wild, almost completely black. His scrunched brows drew creases on his beautiful face, and she longed to smooth her thumb over them. 

“Gwyn,” he breathed, squeezing her arm once. “Don’t go over there. Dance with me.” The weight of his gaze was so intense that Gwyn’s eyes fluttered.

“I didn’t have you pegged as a dancer,” she said softly.

“I’m not. But for you I could be.”

That errant shadow danced over the point of contact between them, brushing over Gwyn’s skin. A couple walking by bumped into Gwyn and pushed her closer to Azriel. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around her arm gripped her waist to steady her. 

The world seemed to slow around them. The music faded into the background, nothing more than a steady hum in her ears. Even the people appeared only as a blur in her peripheral vision.

That fruity drink must have gotten to her, because Gwyn suddenly wanted to abandon the reason she came here in the first place. She wasn’t stupid enough to go fuck some other male when the one she truly wanted was offering her his time. There was no need to rush things, anyway. Tonight she could dance, and that would be enough. Merely crossing the threshold of the pleasure hall’s doors was a huge step for her. 

Just for a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like for Azriel to return her feelings. In certain moments, like now with his hand still on her arm, she felt like it wasn’t such an impossible dream. She could pretend, just for tonight, that he was hers. Blame it on the alcohol.

Gwyn extricated her arm from Azriel’s grip and slid her hand into his. “Okay. Let’s go dance, Shadowsinger,” she said. His body relaxed, and that wild look in his eyes retreated. With a squeeze of her hand, he led her deeper into the throng of people.

“This okay?” he asked. 

She nodded.

Gwyn couldn’t decide whether the Mother loved or despised her, because just then the band stopped playing their upbeat, joyful songs. Instead, they began to play a sensual, sinful beat. The notes wrapped around her like Azriel’s shadows. It sounded like pure sex.

Couples slowed their movements, grinding against each other. Heat rose in Gwyn’s cheeks.

Azriel brought a hand to the back of his neck. “We can wait for a more . . . tame tune if you’d like. I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind.” No, it wasn’t. But she wanted this.

Loosening her grip, Gwyn brought her hand up to Azriel’s chest and lifted up on her toes. She tilted her head up to his ear and said, “You said you’d dance with me, Shadowsinger. And I know you’re not the type to go back on your word.” She pulled back and used the weapon in her arsenal that she knew would hit home. “Unless, of course, you’d like me to go back to the beautiful male over there and ask him to dance?”

Azriel placed a hand over Gwyn’s hand that was still on his chest. “You’re not funny, Berdara.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

After a moment of contemplation, he said, “Promise to tell me if anything I do makes you uncomfortable?”

“Only if you do the same,” Gwyn said.

“Trust me, there’s little you could do that would make me uncomfortable.”

“Promise me.”

Azriel searched her eyes. “I promise,” he said softly.

“Good. I promise too.”

Gwyn brought her other hand to Azriel’s chest and slowly slid them both up until they connected behind his neck. She grinned at the small breath of air he sucked in. He brought his hands to Gwyn’s waist,

“Is this okay too?” he asked. In answer, Gwyn moved closer until her chest pressed against his. When she started to move her hips, Azriel’s head dropped to press his forehead against hers and he began to move with her.

Their breath mingled between them. The heat of him was so much, so intense that Gwyn had to shut her eyes. She let herself forget who she was, let herself forget why this was a bad idea, and just allowed the music to guide her. Azriel’s skin was sweaty beneath her palms, and her fingers stroked over his skin almost involuntarily. A low moan escaped him, and the sound crawled under her skin.

“Look at me, Berdara,” he pleaded.

She was drunk on this feeling, drunk on his voice. She didn’t stand a chance. Her eyes blinked open and connected with his heavy-lidded gaze. 

“I’m going to move my hands. I need to see your reactions to make sure you’re okay,” he said. Their foreheads were still pressed together, so he basically breathed the words into her. 

The slow ascent of his hands was torture. He was toying with her, drawing this out as much as he could. If she’d had more than one drink and less self control, she might have whimpered.

His hands moved up, up, up, framing her body like parentheses until his thumbs hovered under her breasts. They brushed over her, and her nipples tightened at the motion. Her eyes fell closed again.

Azriel brought one of his hands to her cheek, startling her. “Eyes on me,” he said.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Gwyn said. The words had no bite.

Azriel breathed out a laugh as he spun her around so her back was to his chest.

“That remark might have more power if you didn’t do everything I told you to do,” he rasped in her ear. She couldn’t entirely stop the whimper that time.

A new song started, this one slower but somehow even more erotic. If Az wanted to play, they’d play. Gwyn reached for Azriel’s hand, holding it so it rested with his thumb between her breasts and his palm under the right one. Her other hand came up to rest on the nape of his neck once again. She pressed her ass back into him, letting her hips sway to the music.

“And yet,” she said, “you’re here in the first place because I told you to be. So let’s not act like this is one sided.” His amused chuckle sounded more like music than the song filling the air around them.

“Never claimed it was.” He emphasized his point with a push of his hips. Gwyn allowed her fingers to brush the hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck. She’d imagined running her hands through the silken strands more often than she wanted to admit. If the small growl Azriel pressed into the top of her head was any indication, he was enjoying it just as much as she was.

As she continued to grind into him, Azriel hardened beneath her. He froze. She couldn’t be sure if it was for her benefit or his. If Azriel was uncomfortable, she didn’t want to push him.

With a slight turn of her head that had her lips nearly brushing the underside of Azriel’s jaw she said, “I’m good if you’re good.” Cauldron, when had her voice gotten so raspy? “But it’s okay if you’re not.”

“No, I’m—I’m good. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Gwyn turned to face him. “I promised to tell you if I wasn’t. I don’t break my promises.” A strand of hair covered his forehead. Without thinking, Gwyn brushed it back. Az’s response was to run the ends of Gwyn’s hair between his fingers. 

Something about the gesture seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in because he spun her back around so they were back in their former position. His grip was tighter than before, and his hips pressed into her with more urgency. They were really moving now.

His cock hardened further, but he didn’t pull away this time. She rewarded him with sensual rolls of her hips that had her clenching her thighs at the slickness between her legs. Needing more contact, she rested her head on his shoulder. A scarred hand traveled up over her breast and brushed her now exposed throat with a gentle reverence.

More, more, more. Gwyn wanted to brush a hand over those beautiful wings, wanted to run her tongue up the side of his sweat-slicked neck, wanted to press her lips against his. She wanted more, wanted everything. There was no universe in which she’d ever be sick of this feeling. 

“You’re doing so good, Gwyn.” It’s only good because it’s you, she thought. “I’m so proud of you.” With her head leaning back against him, it was so easy for him to brush his lips over her forehead. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but it lit a fire in her nonetheless. 

“Please don’t stop,” she said, sounding desperate but not caring.

“Whatever you say. Whatever you need.”

She tilted her head and twisted in his arms to face him, her lips brushing over his neck in the process.

“I need more,” she said.

“Take it all, Gwyn. It’s all yours.” A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. She found his hands and moved them lower until they rested on the swell of her ass, never breaking his gaze.

He dug his hands in deeper to pull her against him. His cock pressed into her stomach, and she fought the urge to close her eyes and revel in the feeling. The breathy sound of her name on his lips threatened to undo her.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and it took Gwyn a second to remember there were other people here. She wanted to scream at the person who interrupted this moment she wasn’t sure she’d ever get to experience again. Azriel looked up and stiffened in her arms.

“Get the fuck away from her, Florian,” Azriel said, voice quiet but deadly. The voice of the Night Court’s spymaster. She turned to see the intruder and was startled to find it was the gold-haired male from earlier. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Florian said, completely ignoring Azriel. “I saw you looking at me earlier, and I think it’s my duty to come save you. Ditch the bastard and come have the night of your life with me.” He had the nerve to wink at her.

Gwyn’s blood ignited again, but not from lust. She burned with irritation and anger. 

“Excuse me?” Her voice was calm, steady. So at odds with her pounding heart.

“I’m serious, asshole. You need to leave,” Azriel said. 

Florian finally acknowledged Azriel’s presence. He crossed his arms, and with a sickening grin he said, “It seems the infamous spymaster has found himself a whore for the night, huh?”

Azriel’s arms tightened around Gwyn and pulled her closer. His thumb swept back and forth over her skin in comfort. 

The words should have stung, should have made her feel worthless and small, but they didn’t. They only heightened her anger. Who did this male think he was?

“What’s your problem?” Gwyn said.

“Oh, I don’t have a problem, sweetheart. But you might if you keep letting this sick bastard touch you. Do you even know who he is?” He slurred over the words. He stepped closer, and Gwyn flinched involuntarily. Azriel’s chest rumbled in response. Shadows darkened around them. One darted over to Florian, and he jumped back.

“This,” Florian said, trying to wave the dark tendril away, “is who he is. This male tortures people for a living. He’s a heartless monster. Don’t let him fuck you. You might not live to see tomorrow.”

Azriel’s arms loosened around her. His sharp intake of breath was easy to miss, but she noticed it. It was one thing to call her names, but she wouldn’t allow this piece of filth to make Azriel feel badly about himself.

“The only person torturing me right now is you. If you could kindly get the fuck away from us, that would be great.”

The male raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m trying to do you a favor, no need to get all bitchy with me. Listen, I’m sure he’s being all nice and innocent to lure you into bed, but if you need proof just look at his hands. Legend has it one of his victims got some revenge before he butchered them. As far as I’m concerned, whoever that was is a hero.”

Gwyn shook with anger, conflicted between comforting Azriel and killing Florian.

Florian backed away, but not without a last parting shot. “When he puts his hands on you, just try not to think of all the people he’s tortured with them.” The words were directed at her, but his eyes were on Azriel’s. 

Before she could think about the consequences, Gwyn had Florian’s arms twisted behind his back and her blade pressed against his throat. “You want to say that again?” she said.

“Let me go you crazy bitch,” he shouted. The people closest to them stopped their dancing to observe the commotion, but most of the room didn’t realize what was happening. 

“Stay the fuck away from him.” She pressed her blade in a little bit more before letting him go. 

“Whatever. You deserve each other.” Oh, how she wished that could be true.

Gwyn sheathed her dagger and turned on her heel to walk back to Azriel. He stood perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the floor. She could barely see his face through the thick mist of shadows that now surrounded him.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Are you okay?” Gwyn placed a hand on his arm, but the shadowsinger shook off her grip. 

“Let’s just go,” he said.

“Azriel—”

“Please, Gwyn. Can we please leave?” He stalked toward the exit without waiting for an answer. He wouldn’t leave her, she knew. If she didn’t follow him now, he’d wait outside, concealed in shadows, until she was ready.

A fist clenched around her heart and she felt sick with sadness. Sadness for him and all he’d endured. All he still had to endure, every day. Though she wanted to, she would not cry. Azriel needed someone to be strong for him right now.

Gwyn followed him out the door. They flew home in silence, only the wind and rustling leaves keeping them company.

[hyacinthoideshispanica]

Oh! A New Years Eve Gwynriel au!

The inner circle hold a huge new years eve party in a rented hall and during the night, Feysand announce they're pregnant and Nessian become engaged. Everyone's super happy and a little drunk, waiting with increasing anticipation for the clock to strike midnight.

Azriel is overjoyed for his brothers, but he's also kind of sad. A new year is just hours away, and his brothers have entered new and exciting chapters in their lives while he's still alone and doing the same things.

From a dark corner, he observes all the party goers, putting names to each face he sees. Even if he doesn't personally know everyone here, like Rhys, he knows who they are, and he idly wonders will be kissing who when the clock strikes midnight.

Suddenly, he notices an unfamiliar flash of red in the crowd and focuses his attention on the girl dancing with carefree passion in the center of everything.

He stares at her, unable to fit a name to her or the dark skinned brunette dancing beside her and Mor. Without any warning, the redhead stops and turns in his direction. Hazel eyes lock with bright teal, Azriel's brow raises questioningly, as if silently asking the girl who she is, and Gwyn flashes him a teasing grin before moving deeper into the crowd.

Azriel follows her, and for the next few hours, a little game of cat and mouse ensues.

Azriel searches for Gwyn in the crowd. They make eye contact, and she'll teasingly gesture for him to come closer before disappearing again.

Azriel will stop by the bar, looking around, and the bartender hands him a drink from, "the cute redhead." The napkin the glass is set on has a little message, "catch me if you can." Grinning like crazy, Azriel downs the drink, stuffs the note in his pocket, and sets off again.

At one point, Azriel feels a tap on his shoulder and turns just in time to see Gwyn turn a corner.

Eventually, Azriel ends up outside on a balcony, thinking his mystery girl left the party. He hadn't been able to find her for the last 20 minutes, so she must not have been enjoying herself as much as he thought.

The countdown starts, and Azriel decides to stay outside and greet the new year on his own. He doesn't particularly want to be surrounded by people kissing and cheering at the moment.

Then he hears someone behind him and turns around to see Gwyn just as everyone else inside is shouting "Three! Two! One!" As soon as the clock strikes midnight, Gwyn pushes up on her toes and kisses Azriel.

Azriel kisses her back without hesitation, and everything that's not her seems to fade away. He doesn't know her name or why she's there, but none of that matters because he's already decided that if she's willing, he will learn everything about her and teach her everything about himself.

However, when Azriel opens his eyes to ask her name, she's already disappearing back inside into the mass of celebrators. He tries to go after he, but it's no use. She's gone, and Azriel feels like he's going to go insane if he can't see her again.

Azriel doesn't sleep. Instead, he pours through the guest book, looking for any name he doesn't recognize and comparing the writing to the note from his pocket, but nothing matches. He goes to Rhys, but Rhys has no idea who Azriel is asking about, and neither does Feyre. He tries Cassian but walks away from that encounter with nothing but a brusied rib from trying to wake his very drunk, passed out, brother. Nesta is far too hungover to deal with this and threatens to castrate Azriel if he so much as whispers to her while she has a headache.

Desperate, Azriel takes to walking around town, hoping to run into her, but the only person he manages to find is Mor. She comments on his apparent lack of sleep, and he explains what he's doing. Mor's eyes light up in recognition, and Azriel demands to know everything she knows. Mor explains that she doesn't know the redhead, but she's very well acquainted with the other mystery girl, Emerie.

Azriel begs Mor for Emerie's number or some other way to contact her, anything if it's means he can find his mysterious redhead. Mor pulls out her phone and calls Emerie.

Mor: Hey Em. No, I didn't forget anything at your place. Just listen, I have my friend here, and apparently, he's like head over heels in love with your friend. So, what was her name again?

Azriel: And number? Or maybe address?

Mor passes along Gwyn's address, and Azriel immediately takes off running down the street.

He ends up on Gwyn's porch, suddenly nervous, wondering if she even wants to see him again or if it was just a silly little game to her. Hands shaking, he prepares to knock, but the door swings open before he can touch it and comes face to face with Gwyn.

There is a brief moment of silence as they look at each other, and then they're kissing and grabbing at one another fiercely. When they finally break apart to catch their breaths. Gwyn giggles and whispers, "Happy New Year, Azriel."

Azriel moves forward, gently pushing Gwyn between the wall and his body and whispers, "I finally caught you, Gwyn." Before kissing her again.

The next day, Azriel takes Gwyn over to the townhouse and is shocked when she hugs Nesta.

Azriel: You know her?

Gwyn: Of course I do. She and Emerie are my best friends. Who do you think invited me to the party?

Azriel, turning to Nesta: You knew who she was the entire time, and instead of telling me, you let me wander the streets for hours?

Nesta: You woke me up at four in the morning while I was hungover. Absolutely, I let you wander the streets!

As always, this prompt is up for grabs.

[icey--stars]

Stories To Be Told: PART 24

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

a/n: this story is slowly coming to an end... not yet though lMAO

WARNINGS: alcohol and creepy asf guy, non consensual touching

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

This place was an absolute party. Rita’s was some sort of club that apparently the Inner Circle of the Night Court enjoyed going to, at least somewhat often. Mor had offered to bring me, along with the other girls, with Cassian and Azriel following in case someone got wasted and had to go home. But I suspected it was because Cassian wanted to be possessive, and Azriel–probably something along the same lines.

“Come on, let’s get a drink,” Mor suggested. “I need to be at least tipsy to be flirting right now.”

Emerie scoffed. “Alright, beautiful. Can I buy you it?” I had to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. Damn, I thought. Maybe Emerie and Mor would become something from Starfall. I was all the way for it. They looked fucking adorable together.

Mor’s face went red and she coughed out an answer quickly, “Yes, thank you Em.”

Cassian and Nesta were already at the bar, flagging down the bartender to get drinks. Azriel lingered beside me, even as Gwyn went launching toward Emerie, a huge grin on her face. I couldn’t hear her words as she walked away. The music was just a tad too loud for that. But it looked something along the lines of and when did the little blushing thing get some claws? I rolled my eyes and began to follow after them.

“What do you plan on doing here?” Azriel asked me as we paused behind Cassian and Nesta, who were ordering.

I turned to look at him, lifting a brow. “Drinking, of course. Maybe dancing. Who knows.”

“Let me buy you your drink then,” Azriel suggested. “Can’t let you buy everything yourself. Not with me around.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why are you around?” I asked, looking at the list of drinks. That oatmeal stout looked intriguing enough.

Azriel chuckled, a little low sound coming from the back of his throat. “Because, baby, Rhys pays me a shit ton, and I plan to dote on you a little.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Fine, but I’m still paying for something,” I said. “Some gift or something. I don’t know, but you aren’t doting on me without me doing the exact same thing.”

“Sure angel,” he said teasingly. “Now, what do you want?”

“Let me try that stout,” I said after a moment of thinking. “The oatmeal one.”

“Mmm, that one is good,” Az agreed. Cassian moved, and finally, it was our turn to get something. Azriel ordered for us both quickly, telling the bartender to put everything on his tab for the night.

Once given our drinks, I sat down on a stool at a high-level table, beside the one that had Cassian and the others. Azriel took the seat right beside me, our wings brushing against each other mildly when I turned to look at him. I tried not to shiver.

“How long has it been since you’ve come here?” I asked him, taking a nice long sip of my drink, reveling in the taste. That was the exact kind of thing I was looking for right now. Just a little nutty, and an even sweetness to it. Perfect.

Azriel hummed, looking out across the bar before turning his head to face me. Our wings brushed again. Gods, I’d have to find a way to subtly move my chair to stop that. How was he not noticing? Or was he, and just doing it on purpose? I wouldn’t put it past the sly spymaster.

“I went a few days before you arrived, haven’t been since. This place usually isn’t my kind of place. Mor loves it, obviously. Cassian comes often enough, and I hear Rhys comes here every once in a while. Mostly on a night out away from Nyx for a few moments,” Azriel explained, sipping on his own drink. Some sort of ale I think.

“Hmm,” I hummed in acknowledgement. I’d been to a club in the past. Wasn’t really to my taste, but I was fully intending on enjoying tonight. I’d heard from Mor this palace was great and quite accepting of winged individuals. I’d worn just a tight-fitting t-shirt, with the leathers that went on my lower half to match. It did wonders to show off my physique. I think Azriel noticed too, his eyes kept wandering.

“You look good,” he complimented. Ah, so he did notice.

I smirked against the rim of my glass. “Thank you.”

“My lady,” A new deep voice said from my left. I turned, looking at him. He was a classically beautiful High Fae male. High cheekbones, straight teeth, pointed ears. He had long black hair that went just past his shoulders. He was wearing a damn suit. Like a full on suit. Why the hell-? “Would you care for a dance?”

Azriel tensed considerably beside me. I lifted a brow, turning in my seat to face him slightly. I looked back at Az, unsure. Would it be wrong to do that? After everything? Oh, but I wanted to try and have some sort of experience here.

“Go have fun,” Azriel said, breaking my train of thoughts. “Then we’ll see if he can hold up to my dancing.” Oh. He wanted to set himself against this male? That- honestly… sounds fun. I distantly remembered dancing with Azriel on Starfall. It’d been fun, despite not being anywhere near as skilled or practiced.

I turned back to the male with a little smile. “Forgive me, if I step on your toes then. What’s your name?” I stood, brushing against Azriel’s damned wings again.

“Aaron,” he said, voice like silk. “And yours, pretty thing?”

The shadows began swirling faster, going up to my ears. Their voices were panicked. Don’t. The only word I could make out. But don’t what?

“Y/N,” I replied, letting him take my hand to kiss the knuckles.

“A fighter, aren’t you?” He hummed. “Your knuckles are quite rough.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly. “I am a Valkyrie, Aaron. We know how to punch.” There was a cloud over my thoughts. Or it felt like a cloud. It clouded my judgment slightly.

“I’ve heard of that group,” Aaron hummed. “A bunch of females learning to fight. It sounded like fun. I almost wished I could join just to watch them in all their sweaty training clothes.” I felt a little spark of displeasure from that, feeling protective of the people I trained with. That comment rubbed me the wrong way. But that fog… it urged me to let go of that. I obeyed. My shadows started their don’t chant again.

“There’s only a few males given that opportunity,” I replied. “Our trainers.”

“The General and Spymaster–the ones you were sitting by?” He asked.

“Yes, that’s them,” I answered. He started to lead me to the dance floor, dodging a couple lost in each other’s eyes cleaning, dragging me with him.

“Your wings…” he hummed. “So beautiful.”

He went to drag a finger down them, but I moved out of the way. “Let’s dance,” I suggested quickly, lungs constricting slightly at the thought of this random ass male touching my wings. No. Hell no.

He smiled easily and we settled into a position and then whisked off into dancing. I ended up downing my drink, and Aaron bought a wine for me, insisting I needed it. Then another. And another.

A familiar song turned on, a remix of a ballroom dance Nesta had trained me in. The twirls are easy to deal with, opening my wings more so that his arm could go over them. However, I heard a fast approaching dip in the music. Aaron moved me forward a step and then I felt his arm curve over my wings as I dipped back. I froze, waiting for him to lift me up. The fabric on my wings was all wrong. The hands on my wings were all wrong. They weren’t rough with burn scars, they were smooth as a cat’s pelt.

Aaron was grinning as he brought me back up, crushing my wings to my back. “You’re good at dancing darling,” he purred. He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I wonder if you’d be any good at riding.” The shadows screamed in unison. I couldn’t pick out their words anymore.

I caught the hidden meaning immediately and immediately prayed for the Mother to come down and save me. His hand lingered on my wing, settling on the curve instead of my hip. I glanced desperately in the direction of the table, hoping someone was watching. My shadows weren’t dancing anymore either. They were stiff, sitting around my wings and avoiding the male’s hand at all costs. Before, despite their panic, they’d been playing along. Now they didn’t even try.

He curled his fingers in, the nails dragging on the membrane as he leaned in close, pulling me close to his chest so that my jaw was on his shoulder as he whispered in my ear. “I’ve heard many things about Illyrian wings. Are any true?”

He dragged his hand up. I swore under my breath. Not from pleasure.

“Some,” I replied. “But I’ll have you know, I don’t let just anyone touch my wings. You’ll have to do more to earn it.”

“Oh… darling, I think I can earn it,” he chuckled. We turned just right so I could see Azriel. I felt for that bond in my chest, gritting my teeth behind my lips. I finally grasped the damned thread, and yanked twice.

The male dragged his hand up my wing again and I pushed against his chest, settling us into a dancing position again, but his damned hand was still on my wing. I was going to kill him, I decided, if he didn’t fucking let go. I felt the killing power begin to flow into my siphons in my rage.

“Ooo, what pretty powers do you have?” He purred, noting the glowing from the dark blue stones. “So pretty. So powerful… what would you look like under me?”

I was killing him.

A shadow came skittering to me. A familiar voice filling my ears. Only for me and another to hear. The only who could understand the hushed, garbled language of the shadows in the darkest of rooms. The only ones to listen and sing to the darkness. Don’t kill him. I’m coming.

I tried not to sigh in relief.

“What are these… darkness bits around you, darling?” He asked, curving his other palm to pick one up. It immediately leaped off and into my hair. His hand followed.

I pushed at his chest. “A secret,” I replied. Finally, his hand slipped off my wing. The one on my head remained, grabbing onto the short hair. It’d been growing to the point someone could fist it in their hand enough to get a grip. 

Finally, I snarled. “Let me fucking go,” I ordered.

A voice of venom spoke from behind me. “Let her go. Now,” Azriel seconded.

The male smirked, looking past my shoulder at Azriel. He didn’t let go of my hair. If he didn’t let go in the next fifteen seconds, I was slicing his arm off.

One.

“Spymaster, what a wonderful sight. Is she one of your Valkyries?”

Two.

“Let her go.”

Three.

“Why? I think she likes it. Look at her little smile.” That smile was a damn grimace and relief for Azriel being near.

Four.

“You are hurting her.”

Five.

“She’s into that. Didn’t you notice?” Not this sort of pain-

Six.

“And how did you learn that?”

Seven.

“I asked, of course.” I wanted to scream at him, but for some reason my stupid brain remained silent. The fog was stopping me from moving. What was that fog? I didn’t know what to do. I was running off of bare instincts. Nobody touched my wings. Nobody–except Az.

Eight.

“She looks uncomfortable. How about we switch off?”

Nine.

“Then where is my new dance partner, spymaster?”

Ten.

“Go find someone.”

Eleven.

“Well, that seems like an unfair trade.”

Twelve.

“Good. Let her go.”

Thirteen.

“Go away, you’re bugging us,” Aaron dismissed.

Fourteen-

“Let my mate go or I will rip your head off your shoulders.”

Aaron dropped me. On the brisk millisecond before I hit fifteen. His arm was lucky. “You have a mate Y/N?!” He shouted.

I took a deep breathy sigh of relief, walking into Azriel’s chest. He immediately wrapped a protective arm around me. The hand went over my shoulders, carefully avoiding my wings. A good male. A respectful male. My male. My mate. Relief coursed through me so strongly I knew Azriel could feel it through that bond. I could feel a simmering anger through it. Or it might’ve been raging, but alas, the bond wasn’t that strong yet. I’d only been able to feel him when he walked over here. The shadows stopped screaming and chanting.

“Yes, now leave,” Azriel snarled. “You don’t touch my mate’s wings without fucking permission, or grab her hair prick.”

I saw Cassian and Nesta coming up behind him as I turned to face the scene again. I swallowed, jaw clenching.

“What’s the problem here?” Cassian asked, spreading his wings slightly to keep Aaron trapped and provide a slightly clear talking space. Nesta, on the inside, glared at the male with a fire in her eyes.

Aaron rose to his full height again. “Your friend is threatening me,” he accused. “Unprovoked.”

“Looked pretty damn provoked from here,” Nesta snarled. “You don’t touch my fucking sister.”

They’d seen. Azriel’s rage grew. Nesta shouldered past Aaron and took me from Azriel. Az immediately stepped forward to Aaron.

Nesta held me steady, avoiding my wings. My sister.

“You didn’t ask for permission to touch her wings,” Azriel snarled at Aaron. “By all rights, I could have Rhysand down here and have you arrested. Or just do it myself.”

Cassian chuckled. “I vote to do it yourself. I’d rather like to see what this little scrawny thing has against a trained Illyrian warrior.”

I felt a pain of guilt. I was trained. Why didn’t I escape? Why had my body just fucking frozen?! Normally I could react so well…

Cassian’s face fell suddenly. So suddenly I was concerned. One moment it was the epitome of rage, and the next it was blank.

“Move aside General,” Aaron ordered. Cassian, in his blank state, folded a wing. Azriel launched himself forward then, bowling the High Fae to the ground. Cassian shook free of his… state, and his face turned rageful once again.

“A little fucker who can use suggestion,” The general crooned. “Oh what fun. Rhys is on his way to deal with your stupid ass.”

Azriel pinned Aaron, siphons that he had on glowing brightly.

“Let me go fucker!” Aaron screamed.

“You will pay for the crimes you committed,” Azriel crooned. “Now free my mate of your spell.”

I was under a spell? That worked? Even with my shadows?

“I can’t,” Aaron chuckled, grinning victoriously.

“Explain,” Azriel yanked on one arm to a painful angle, causing Aaron to let out a yelp.

“She’ll be in that suggestive state for another few hours, especially with the alcohol,” Aaron gritted out. “It’ll wear–OW YOU FUCKER!” Azriel had yanked his arms painfully.

The people on the dance floor had moved, I noticed. A dark power rumbled through the area. I heard a few whimpers of fear. Rhysand walked in, clad in his normal clothes, but they were more ruffled than usual, as if he’d put them on quickly. No wings.

“So, Azriel, care to tell me what’s happening?” The High Lord crooned, sparing a glance at me.

“Aaron, here,” Azriel grunted briefly as Aaron jerked in his grip. “Decided to put a suggestion spell on my mate.”

“Show me,” Rhysand ordered.

The two males’ eyes glazed over for a moment before Rhys’s face curved into a wicked grin. It didn’t look to be used to convey cockiness, happiness or anything in between. It looked to be used to tell someone they’d fucked up.

“Touching someone without permission, Aaron, is illegal. Azriel, put him in a cage for the night.”

Azriel disappeared in the shadows. The mask Rhys had on fell and he looked at me. “Y/N,” he said, walking forward toward me. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Just a little foggy.”

Rhys sighed in relief. “What did he do?”

I swallowed. “He was touching my wings.”

Cassian hissed, face scrunching up in displeasure.

Rhys looked angry. His gaze hardened, brows dipping toward his nose. “I’ll make sure he’s dealt with.” Then the High Lord winnowed away.

Nesta held me steady as I let out a sigh that almost sent me tumbling to my knees. “What the fuck,” I growled, shaking my head.

Azriel winnowed back, immediately running to support me. Nesta took a step back. I almost whimpered with relief as I felt him hold me to his chest.

“I’ve got you baby. Are you hurt?”

I shook my head.

“You wanna go home?”

“Yes, please,” I pleaded.

“I’ll get Mor,” Cassian said. “See you at home.”

Azriel pulled back. “You can’t fly, can you?”

I shook my head, leaning my head back into him. “Too fuckin’ drunk. Too much, too fast.”

“I’ve got you baby,” he promised. He scooped me up from under my legs, holding me carefully and then we winnowed into the air outside the House of Wind. He glided down, the wind doing absolutely nothing to stop the fog in my mind. It felt sort of like alcohol, but had a bit more of a different feel to it.

He carried me through the house, heading for my room. He settled me on the bed, looking at me as if he was questioning something.

“Take off your leathers,” he said gently. “Then you can drink water and go to bed.”

I scoffed. The drunk part of my brain decided to do dumb shit. “Trying to get me undressed, are you?”

Azriel choked on his next words, a surprised noise escaping his jaw as he stared at me in shock. “Fucking hell,” he sighed, shaking his head. Was that a slight bulge in his pants? Maybe, I was drunk. I unbuckled my leathers, setting them beside my others. “You’re impulsive when you’re drunk,” he noted aloud.

I chuckled. “No I’m not~”

“Drink,” Azriel shoved a glass of water into my hands, and didn’t stop glaring at me before I’d downed it, and another.

“Sleep,” he ordered, hovering on the side of the bed.

“Sleep,” I yawned. “No. I’m not tired.”

He scoffed. “What if I laid down with you?”

“Will you scratch my head?” I asked.

He tensed slightly. “Are you alright with that?”

I nodded, throwing the covers back and laying on the far side of the bed from him, facing the middle of the bed. Carefully, he slipped out of his boots and put his feet under the bed with mine, moving to hold me to his chest. He moved the arm he was laying on up to scratch at my head. It was more hesitant than before.

I hummed happily, leaning into the touch. “That asshole doesn’t know how to scratch my hair right. You do. I like you.”

“Sleep, Y/N,” Azriel ordered, but I saw a little smile.

“No-” I yawned. “You.”

“When you wake, you’ll feel better.”

“I don’t want toooooo~” I leaned forward so my face was more in his space. “I wanna do this.”

Then I kissed him.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@mis-lil-red, @bunnymallowo, @judig92, @biblophilefox82, @azzydaddy, @thegirlintheshadows101, @whatupmydudes01, @feyres-fireheart, @elizarikaallen, @xenlynn, @panzees-bizarre-adventures, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @baebeepeach, @nyctophiliiiiaaa, @brekkershadowsinger, @officiallyunofficialperson, @bookslut420, @margssstuff, @bluephoenix908, @goldentournesol, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @ladylokilaufeyson5, @graciereads, @chanaaaannel,

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

Men pay a lot of money to get their name into Gwyn's exclusive black book - enough that, with careful planning, she's putting herself through law school debt-free. Once she's graduated, she can retire the high heels and little black dresses and get to work in the pursuit of justice that she and her sister never received.

Azriel Singer's profile intrigues her, with a smile that never shines in his eyes and a delectable body. But will his attitude get in the way of any future potential?

I am so fortunate to be chosen to write Ch.2 of this fic for the ACOTAR Writing Circle 3 that has been coordinated by the amazing @azrielshadowssing

Part 1 was written by the incredible @hlizr50 and I hope I did this work justice!

Here is the link to Part 2, or read below!

TW: mentions of SA

ONE MONTH LATER

This had been a month from Hell. Gwyn was all but dying as she turned in her final assignment of the semester, thankful that she had somehow found the time to study and work a few extra nights of the week. 

Gwyn had met with Tarquin the day after the disastrous meeting with Azriel. He was sweet and her saving grace over the last month. He didn’t want anything more than what she was used to offering - just a few weekends of fun. She made her rent with some cash to spare just from him alone.

 It was all fine, but Gwyn couldn’t stop herself from venturing to Azriel’s profile, perplexed at what kind of bullshit someone had to go through in order to be such a massive asshole. He was hot, sure, and the kind of rich that would make paying off her college tuition look like a drop in the bucket. Had he been even a little less of dick, she might have milked him for all he was worth. 

So fuck him. 

But still… she couldn’t delete his profile off of her contact list. Couldn’t break that single connection to the man who equally perplexed and infuriated her. 

Gwyn’s phone pinged, bringing her out of her stupor and back to reality. Her group chat with Nesta and Emerie consisted of funny memes, gossip, and the only source of true fun Gwyn had had in ages.

Nesta:

Let's go out tonight to celebrate! 

Gwyn:

I am exhausted, Nesta. Maybe next time?

Gwyn entered her apartment and collapsed on the couch, ready to pass out and allow herself the bliss of sleep. Her phone went off again, and she silently cursed as she read the next message.

Emerie:

Take a nap and then join us! It isn’t everyday that you finish your second year of Law School, let alone in the top five of your class. You are a shoe in for any internship in the country. Take the evening off and just live a little! 

Gwyn thought about it. When was the last time she really spent time with her best friends? Her weekends were filled with being whisked away on private jets to sunny beaches with Tarquin and her week days were jammed with studying and writing paper after paper. She had some money left over, and with this break coming up she could take on more clients than usual to get ahead of her bills. 

Gwyn:

Fine, you win. Now you guys leave me be for the next 6 hours and then we can meet at Rita’s at 9pm? 

Nesta:

YES! Finally!!!! First shot’s on me ;)

Emerie:

WOOOOOOO! 

Emerie:

Ok, love. Get some sleep, because tonight we PARTY!

Gwyn chuckled at their enthusiasm, and it wasn’t long before she set her alarm and passed out- content and excited for the night to come. 

----

Gwyn, Nesta and Emerie strode into the club and headed straight for the bar opposite the dancefloor. 

“Three tequila shots and lime, thanks.” Nesta said, gesturing to the male bartender, Balthazar. She had taken a martial arts class with him when they all attended Velaris University and he always hooked the girls up when they came in. He just smiled and brought them right over, ignoring the guys who seemed to be attempting to flag him down to bring them some beers. Nesta just gave them one of her cold smiles and they shut right up.

“Here you go ladies.” Balthazar crooned as he dropped 4 shots of tequila and a small bowl of limes down in front of them. He smiled at Gwyn kindly and she was alway happy to see a friendly, male face whenever she was here. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Gwyn. Finally crawling out of your den to join us in the land of the drunk and living?”

“If only you knew the half of it. I’m literally bending over backwards to finish this degree. You try finding the time to make the dean’s honors list in Law School, work your ass off, and still look this good in heels after a final’s week from hell.” Gwyn retorted back. 

His gaze dropped to said heels appreciatively. Perhaps it took a moment longer than necessary for his eyes to crawl back up her legs to her smirking features, but Gwyn wasn’t complaining. He just put his hands up in silent surrender and passed out the shots to all of us. 

Nesta held her glass out in a toast. “To the shit we have seen, and the shit to come. At least the booze and company are worth it all.” They all grabbed a lime slice, clinked their shots together, and knocked them back. Gwyn savored the heat of the tequila running down her throat. 

As she slammed her glass down on the bar victoriously, Gwyn could feel someone watching her. Her neck tingled as a gaze- hard and determined- bore into her back. Turning towards the dancefloor, she scanned the room until her eyes landed on a pair of familiar hazel ones. Ones that she had ogled in fascination all month behind the comfort of her phone screen.

Azriel was standing there and staring directly at her. No trepidation. No hint of shyness about him all. 

She couldn’t read his expression from so far away, but she could feel his eyes raking down her body - noticing her tight cobalt outfit. The skirt barely covered her most intimate areas and her crop top wrapped around the curve of her body as though it were tailored just for her. The fabric shimmered under the club lights, giving the illusion of moonlight on an ocean wave.  

His gaze sent electricity sparking up Gwyn’s spine. For the first time in a long time, she felt exposed under his attention. Once Azriel’s eyes met hers again, she remembered the reason they were in this predicament and turned her back to him - deciding to ignore the source of her current vexation for the rest of the night. 

Despite her best efforts to ignore him, Gwyn couldn’t help but feel Azriel’s piercing gaze on her back the entire time. 

She just ordered another round of shots from Balthazar, whose doting attention was not unnoticed. When the shot glasses of vodka arrived, she turned around to see Azriel sitting in a booth on the other side of the club with two people she hadn’t taken notice of before. The man was as large as a tank. His long hair was tied up in a messy bun and Gwyn could spot some black swirling tattoos peeking out from the open buttons of his black dress shirt. 

The woman, sitting on the other side of the long-haired man, was one of the most stunning women Gwyn had ever seen. Surely a model, her golden blonde hair fell in waves around her face and down her back. She was wearing a deep gold top that just barely covered her chest, with chains at the neck and back leaving her tanned skin utterly exposed. Her matching skirt had her shining like a gilded sunset.

“Looks like you have a secret admirer, Gwyn.” Nesta teased from beside her. 

Gwyn scowled in reply, content to follow out her plans to have fun and not think about work for a night. Or for that matter, a pair of hazel eyes that saw entirely too much and a broad muscular form that appeared as though it were carved by a Renaissance artist. Why did he have to be such an asshole? Gwyn hated him for it.

“His friends aren’t so bad to look at, either,” Emerie said. I turned to look at her and found her eying Azriel’s blonde friend with predatory intent. She smiled a little to herself. Although Gwyn was determined not to get any tonight, she wouldn’t stop her friends if they wished to partake in a one-night stand. 

Perhaps it was reckless, but Gwyn couldn’t help but stare Azriel in the eye as she took her shot, not bothering with a chaser. He leaned forward in his seat - his eyes tracking the small drop that seemed to escape Gwyn’s lips and ran down the side of her mouth. She wiped it with her thumb and sucked it off- refusing to let her gaze fall from his. Gwyn just winked at him and turned back to her friends. 

She hoped he felt the same lick of fire creep up her depths and ricochet through her spine. She wondered if the air had gone thick with heat and tension for him as well. But Gwyn didn’t chance another glance over to him. 

This was war, and she was determined to win. 

“Let's go dance.” Was all she said, and her friends followed in tow.

----- 

The dance floor was packed tonight. Rita’s was only a few blocks away from the university, so everyone was trying to make the most of their end of semester celebrations. The girls found their way to the middle of the dance floor and started jumping and swaying with the music. For a while, Gwyn forgot about the pair of hazel eyes that had been watching her all night. 

At some point, Nesta had spotted the man who had come with Azriel, and she left without a further glance at them. 

He was exactly her type: bold, dominant, and from the way he laughed, he was definitely a teddy bear at heart. Gwyn and Emerie started laughing to themselves at how the man’s jaw seemed to drop when he saw Nesta approaching him. When they approached each other, drifting as though attached to some magnetic force, the gaze they shared was so intimate, Gwyn almost looked away - but the liquor in her system had robbed her of that courtesy. 

“How much do you want to bet that Nesta will be waking up in his bed in the morning?” Emerie joked, yelling slightly over the loud music. 

“They are either going to hate each other or be inseparable. Time to start writing the wedding invitations now.” Gwyn yelled back. Both girls fell into a fit of giggles as they casually watched Nesta and man start dancing with each other at the edge of the dancefloor.

A few more songs passed by, and Gwyn was fully entranced by the music and tequila. She hadn’t had enough to be drunk, but she did have just enough to loosen her inhibitions. Maybe that was why she had teased Azriel relentlessly at the bar. Gwyn looked over to Emerie who seemed to be distracted, continuously staring at the blonde woman who had come with Azriel. It seemed the woman was staring at her right back. 

“Go shoot your shot, Em. I will be fine. I was hoping to leave in a few songs anyways.” Gwyn said with teasing encouragement. 

Emerie looked nervous, chewing on her lip as her eyes scanned Gwyn. “Are you sure? What if she isn’t into girls?”

Gwyn just squeezed her arm in gentle encouragement, “You will never know unless you go up to her and ask.” 

Emerie stayed until the end of the song, trying to dance away her nerves. When one song flowed into another, she said, “Ok. I’m going. Are you sure you are gonna get home safe?” Gwyn knew Emerie was just trying to stall the inevitable, so she just laughed in return. “I’ll be fine, Em. Go. I will text you and Nesta when I get home.” It was always their unspoken rule. Every time they went out, they would text the group where they were headed after the club. It also helped that the girls shared their phone locations with each other - just in case. 

Emerie took a deep breath and turned towards the booth where the blonde was sitting, only to find it empty now. Looking around confused, Gwyn couldn’t help but feel bad for Emerie when all of a sudden her friend turned behind her to find the blonde tapping her shoulder. 

“Want to dance?” The blonde said, a warm smile washing over her face as she held out her hand. 

Emerie took it without hesitation, “I would like that.” 

Gwyn waved them off as she continued to dance by herself, just enjoying the flow of the music through her veins. 

She told herself she would stay for two more songs, make sure her friends were ok, and then head home to change into sweats, eat ice cream, and stream Grey’s on Netflix thanks to Nesta sharing her account with Gwyn. 

Midway through the penultimate song, a pair of hands gripped onto Gwyn’s waist. They were rough and felt wrong. The man pulled himself close, trying to dance with Gwyn but she was not in the mood to be manhandled today. 

She tried to turn out of the man’s grip, to shuffle away with a swift turn to the beat, but the guy just squeezed her waist tighter and tighter until she was being pulled against her will. 

Memories flashed through Gwyn’s mind. 

Dancing at a freshman year frat party. Another man’s hands on her waist. Her saying no as he brought her into a spare bedroom and took what he wanted from her. 

Gwyn stood frozen in fear, unable to say anything. She knew self-defense, of course. She had met Nesta and Emerie at a self defense course for women who had been through trauma. But there were too many people around her and she didn’t want to risk hurting anyone else. 

She tried to pry the dude’s fingers off of her waist, but he just leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Want to go home with me tonight, princess? That pretty outfit would look even better on the floor of my bedroom.” 

Gwyn shuddered in absolute disgust. What kind of douche just asks if you want to sleep with him without even introducing himself?

“I’m good, thanks. I was actually just heading out. Have a good night.” Gwyn tried to escape his grasp again, but he just held tighter and started roaming his hands down her sides. 

“Come on, Princess. It will be fun. What do you say?” he said in her other ear. His beer breath bombarded her nose and all but made her gag. Gwyn just about had it with him and was about to damn the consequences, but suddenly those hands were jerked off of her. 

In a startled haze, Gwyn turned only to find Azriel pulling the man off of her by the collar of his shirt. “The lady said she isn’t interested.” Azriel all but growled at the guy. 

The guy stared up at Azriel and balked. Azriel stood a whole head taller than him, and the look on his face would send most people running in the opposite direction. 

Gwyn couldn’t help but think that that look was kinda hot. Couldn’t help but bite her lip as heat swam through her depths, replacing the icy nausea that had made a home there just moments ago. 

The guy just stared between Azriel and Gwyn in shock. He didn’t wait around, sparing her a scoff and leaving. Azriel turned to Gwyn, his dark gaze roaming over her. Looking to see if she was hurt, she realized. 

“Are you ok?” He asked, taking a step towards her. 

That set Gwyn into motion. She took a step back, flicked her hair over her shoulder in fake bravado, and said cooly, “I’m fine. Thanks for the help.” 

She turned over her shoulder and walked right out of the club and into the cool summer breeze. 

----

She was in the middle of texting the girls and calling an uber when the club doors swung open beside her. Azriel walked out the doors in a frantic huff. He turned frantically in place until he noticed her leaning against the brick storefront, then all but ran towards her in a frenzy. 

“What the hell!?” He said in a panicked voice. “Why did you leave? I was looking everywhere for you.” 

Something tickled Gwyn’s nerves. On the one hand, it was sweet that he was looking for her. So at odds with the asshole she had interviewed with last month. On the other hand… “Why? Just cause I am an escort doesn’t mean that you are entitled to my time.”

“I know, but-”

She cut him off before he could give some bullshit excuse. “You made it perfectly clear the last time we met that you wanted nothing to do with me. So what the fuck was all that inside?” She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration. 

Azriel cringed at her comment. He loosed a sigh and looked down. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took in a shaky breath before he opened them to meet hers. “I’m sorry for how I treated you that day. I’ve been going through a rough time. My friends set me up and although their intentions are good, I wasn’t in the right headspace. Would you let me take you somewhere so I can explain?” His eyes were pleading. He actually looked sincere. 

This emotional rollercoaster was taking Gwyn for a loop. She shook her head and scoffed. “I was just groped by a random dude in the club. What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you right now?” 

Azriel’s eyes darkened with rage. He kept it bottled in as he said, “At least let me take you home. Maybe grab some food on the way? I just want to explain. Start over.” 

Gwyn didn’t want to deal with this right now. She was at her wits end and just wanted to go home. “Why do you even care, Azriel? We met once, you were an ass, and life moved on. Just leave me be.”

Gwyn was done. 

She was done with men who thought they were entitled to her because she sold her time and body. But there were still hers. 

Hers to choose who to spend her time with.

Hers to choose when to give it. 

But always her choice. 

Gwyn started to turn to walk down the street and put some distance between her and Azriel, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. His grip was light and she could easily shake him off if she wanted to but something inside her was telling her to stay. To listen. 

“Please, Gwyn. Just give me a chance to explain. If I can’t convince you to give me a second chance by the time I drop you off at home, you will never hear from me again. You can have anything you want, just- please.” 

Gwyn stared at his eyes, and whatever she saw there made her sigh in resignation. She could ask for anything. A lot of her problems could be fixed with that kind of offer. She pulled out her phone and texted Nesta and Emerie.

Gwyn:

Taking a detour on my way home. Be safe!

She clicked off her phone and looked Azriel in the eyes, “Lead the way then, Singer.”

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Can someone explain this part of "Negative Space" to me?

So in doing the @911lonestarrewatch for this week, the big part of "Negative Space" 3x12 that I don't get.

I don't get why what happened with Sadie made TK lose his sobriety- and I know the basic answer; to pave the way for the Cooper storyline - which I am in favor of-

But the part that I don't is why that incident would take TK back to square one, especially because A), it wasn't his fault, and B) they had an incident that seemed to have much more cause for him to go t0 90 meetings in 90s days, yet that one they moved on from alarmingly quickly.

And I'm saying this as someone who is not an expert on sobriety or addiction; the extent of my knowledge is that alcoholism runs on both sides of my family (as they say in arsenic and old lace, it practically gallops). And I live in the states, in the drunkest state in America, so drinking culture is bad; like you can have ten DUIs and they haven't taken your license bad - or my mom recently sent me a list of the top 10 drunkest cities in America and I was like there's where I live now, there's where I grew up, there's where my dad lives- you get the picture.

And one thing that I got from this, is that to lose your sobriety it's not as simple as the bartender gives you the wrong drink and you take a sip.

Like when TK says that the choice was taken away from him to lose his sobriety, like... then he should still have it, because he didn't choose to the drugs.

And after watching this episode, I watched an episode of a show that had a similar situation that I wanted to bring up- it's a show called Mom, it's about women who are recovering alcoholics who meet in AA and become friends and help each other stay sober.

And there's an episode called "Wind Chimes and a Bottomless Pit of Sadness" that has this similar plot. One of the women, Bonnie, is in a serious relationship with a man, Adam, who isn't sober, and they're both aware that she is sober and he isn't. Bonnie takes a bag of cookies she finds in his kitchen when he isn't there that is shoved in the back of a cabinet and shares them with the three other women in their group of friends, not realizing that the cookies have marijuana in them.

Bonnie's boyfriend, Adam, calls Bonnie when he sees the cookies aren't there and calls her and after talking to her for a minute, confirms, that yes, they are all high. He goes to meet them and explains what happened.

The four women are shocked and devastated that they've lost their sobriety, because they are all years in, like TK was. Adam realizes that there's nothing he as a not sober person can say to fix this and calls the fifth women in their group, the oldest, Marjorie, who is their sponsor (she was celebrating her wedding anniversary and not at the meeting).

Marjorie comes over and clarifies they didn't know there was pot in the cookies- then they haven't lost their sobriety. Because it wasn't an active choice that they made. Here-

She relays that it happened to her once when she had ten years and ordered a virgin mojito, took a drink, realized the mistake, but didn't take another sip. And the thing to do is what they always do; keep working the program and accept that accidents happen, because none of them knew there was pot in the cookies, just like TK had no way of knowing there was opioids in his pho.

And I don't mean to say they shouldn't have done the Cooper storyline, because someone sober in a serious relationship with someone who isn't and what that means - that's an important plot to have. That's why it confuses me that they used the Sadie incident to push it when TK had recently tried to take drugs.

After Gwyn's death (which again plot, but it's like Carlos- WHY. WOULD. YOU. LEAVE. HIM. SITTING. THERE. ALONE. Like I know the idea is TK is too despondent to do anything, but take his hand, sit him in your car, and take him with you! Anyway...)

But TK went to work with the sole purpose of taking narcotics out of the ambulance and use them. He would have if Owen didn't show up exactly when he did - jeopardizing not just his sobriety, but his job in the process.

And we see TK tearfully admit this to Owen on the plane but then that's it. We don't even know if he told Carlos this. That seems much more reason to attend 90 meetings in 90 days and get a new sponsor, and to help him process his mother's death when it was so sudden.

Because - and I love paramedic captain mama Tommy; but I don't think we needed it to come from her to TK to be getting that help after his mother's death. TK isn't someone who is averse to professional help. TK is married (or at this point in the show, sharing a bed with) someone who is averse to that kind of help; someone for whom getting Carlos Reyes to a therapist is something akin to getting a cat in a carrier to take to the vet (actually much harder, because cats, while angry and with sharp, pointy feet, are portable. You can't shove Officer Beefcake and his muscles of steel into a cat carrier. That man is un unmovable tree).

But we didn't need it to come from Tommy to confirm TK was seeking help.

And I know it's just plot reasons, but on a show where the showrunner, star/executive producer, and the story editor are all recovering addicts... well it's weird to me they framed it as "someone drugged food he unwillingly ate" cost him his sobriety.

Anyways- thank you for listening, here is a picture of my sleepy cat-

[aldbooks]

The Syren - ACOTAR Writing Circle - Part 3 - Rating: E

I have the pleasure of finishing this lovely story begun by @headcanonheadcaseand continued by @secret-third-thing as part of the ACOTAR Writing Circle organized by @azrielshadowssing

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

Summary: Gwyn Berdara is more than just the bartender at The Syren, she's the heart and soul of the place. She rebuilt the old pub from the ground up, turning it into a cocktail bar, and is fully committed to its success. She's always drawn the line at flirting with her customers, but when a patron begins quizzing her cocktail recipes, Gwyn finds herself willing to bend her rules.

words 3691

Gwyn checked the time on her phone- again. Her break was almost up and there was no sign of Azriel. The door to the bar had only opened twice in the twenty minutes she’d been out here to emit a few stumbling college girls and their friends back into the night, and her phone had not buzzed once with an incoming message.

Scoffing, Gwyn rolled her eyes and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “Whatever,” she muttered to herself as she glared out the windshield. “He can do what he wants, I don’t care. It’s not as if there was really anything going on with us. We only hooked up the one time and it wasn’t even that good.”

Liar. She was a damned liar. Those too brief moments they’d spent in her car, in the very seat she was now occupying, had been… she didn’t have the words to properly describe how it had felt. To feel him moving inside of her, his hands and mouth on her skin, the sounds he’d made, the ones she’d made… Even just remembering it sent a shiver through her. 

She did care. Very much. Not that she had a right to, however. Because the one thing she hadn’t lied to herself about was that there was nothing going on between them. There had been no words or discussions of commitments or exclusivity. They barely knew each other, and he clearly had some past with the blonde, one that still seemed to be affecting him. She wanted no part of that. She refused to be anyone’s second choice, no matter how good the sex.

And that, for once, was not a lie.

A ringing emitted from her pocket, a reminder she’d set to let her know break time was over. Sighing, she turned the alarm off and climbed back out of her truck taking a moment to double check her appearance before heading back in. She told herself it had nothing to do with Azriel, she didn’t care what he thought of her. It was for the other patrons, the ones she would smile at and flirt tips out of.

As she walked back inside and headed behind the bar once more, she became aware of two things. One, someone had apparently decided it was karaoke night as they sang very loudly- and off key- to Neil Diamond. Two, Azriel was still watching the blonde (said singer), and didn’t even seem to be aware that Gwyn had left the bar, as he was still nursing the same drink she’d made for him when he arrived.

Irritation climbed up her throat and she swallowed it back, ignoring the knowing, sympathetic look Emerie shot her as she joined her behind the bar. Shaking it off, Gwyn quickly dropped back into the rhythm of mixing and serving, resolving not to glance back at that corner booth again, no matter how loud or obnoxious the noise became as Cassian’s baritone joined in to Journey. Soon enough, half the bar was singing along, glasses raised to the ceiling in a cacophony of discordant sound that grated on Gwyn’s ears. Nesta caught her eye and they both grimaced. She decided right then to never host karaoke nights at the bar. Ever.

~*~*~*~

Gwyn tapped the brakes a bit too hard in surprise the next morning, cursing as coffee sloshed onto her hand and glared out the windshield at the man waiting for her outside the bar, leaning against a motorcycle straight out of her wet dreams. Of course he would ride a motorcycle. He couldn’t have driven some perfectly sensible vehicle that diminished his appeal enough to keep her sane for whatever confrontation was about to happen. Damn him.

She’d more or less kept to her resolution not to look his way the rest of the evening after he’d failed to join her on her break. She definitely hadn’t noticed the way his eyes barely left the pretty blonde in his group the rest of the night, or the way she had giggled and leaned against him, her manicured fingers wrapped tightly around his arm as they left, or the way he did not meet her eye as he passed by the bar. And she definitely had not spent most of the night, once she got home, trying not to think about him or the fact that the one encounter they’d had together would likely be the only and she might never see him again.

Absolutely not.

And now, here he was, waiting for her, coffee in hand as she pulled into the bar this morning. She had come in earlier than usual to catch up on some bookkeeping and wondered how on earth he’d known when she would be here. Or how long he’d been waiting.

She ignored him as she carefully set her travel mug aside, wiping her hand on her jeans and pulled into her usual spot. Taking her time as she gathered her phone and purse and everything she would need for the day, she took one last, steadying breath before climbing out of the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind her with a sharp snap. 

“Morning,” he greeted her with a deep rumble that made her toes curl in her boots. The blasted man had parked nearly blocking the bar’s back door so there was no way to avoid him. As she passed him, she gave a pointed look at the tray of coffees in his hand before meeting his eye and raising her own mug to her lips.

Behind her, she heard him sigh quietly and felt him follow her to the door, staying a respectful distance behind as she pulled her keys out and unlocked the door. He said her name just before she made to shut the door in his face and, against her better judgment, something in his voice made her pause.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “For the way I acted last night. I- will you please let me explain?”

Gritting her teeth, she looked back at him. The morning light caught off the golden hues in his hazel eyes and she could easily read the remorse in them. But was his remorse for the lost opportunity for sex, or for the loss of whatever strange tension had existed between them from the moment they’d met? It seemed her heart was in the driver’s seat this morning and not her brain, as she gave him a sharp nod and allowed him to follow her inside. 

Feeling especially grumpy this morning, she did not offer him a seat as she tossed her things onto her desk and flopped down into her chair, ignoring him entirely as she woke her computer up and pretended to be busy while he patiently waited to be acknowledged. It was a test of sorts, to see just how badly he wanted to apologize. How sincere he might be and, so far, he was passing.

Finally, she leaned back in her seat, turning it to face him. A quick glance at the chair opposite her had him sitting down, awkwardly cradling the coffees in his lap. Still she said nothing as she stared at him, and waited. 

Azriel shifted under her scrutiny, clearing his throat before finally speaking. “I, uh- our friends, who joined us last night, they… sort of surprised us with their visit. I hadn’t been expecting to see them, which was why I’d kind of gone silent the last few days…” He reached up to scratch the back of his head in an adorably nervous gesture that absolutely did not soften her towards him. At all.

She watched as a faint blush stained his cheeks. “You might have noticed there’s a- er, bit of history between Morrigan and I.” Morrigan. So that was the blonde’s name. It was very regal sounding and oddly fitting for the stunning beauty. She gave him no sign of agreement, just continued to stare at him as he floundered through his explanation. While she knew her face was cold and impassive, inside she was a riot of nerves having no idea what sort of history or feelings he was about to admit to.

“First of all,” he said, leaning forward, his expression earnest. “I want to say that, while I did once care about her- that way- I haven’t for a long time. Still don’t. Neither does Cassian-” he said quickly. Despite herself she was amused that even as he was attempting to apologize for his own sake, he was still worried about how her friend might react to a potential threat to her ‘situationship’ with his friend. Which he rightly should be. Nesta was terribly territorial, but she had seemed unbothered by whatever had been happening last night. Not that she would tell him so. Let him sweat.

Shaking his head, he continued. “Nothing ever really happened between us, anyway. The details are irrelevant but I just- it had been so long since I’d seen her, I think I’d forgotten what she was like.”

Gwyn raised a brow at that, the first response she’d given him thus far. A panicked look came over his face and he hurried to explain, “I mean, I forgot how manipulative she was. She was always good at playing Cass and I against each other. Cass caught on long before I did, unfortunately, and ultimately, it was what convinced me to move on. But she was in typical form last night, trying to flirt and evoke a jealous response out of us both and, when that didn’t work, she got more aggressive… I don’t know what exactly you saw, but I promise I was not pining for her. I was more angry than anything.”

His expression turned pleading. “As for not meeting you on your break, I swear I tried to, but every time I tried to leave, Morrigan would rope me into whatever stupid conversation she was having and wouldn’t let me leave.”

Gwyn scoffed at that and he winced. “You’re a big boy, Az. If you wanted to leave, you could have. Easily. And if you’re apparently incapable of using your big boy words to tell her to shove it, well then… I’m not sure there’s much left to discuss. I have no time to play with little boys.”

Azriel grimaced. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his tone now dejected. “Truly. I know you and I- that we-” a sigh of frustration. “I know there was never any kind of official agreement or anything between us but I liked you. I still like you. And I know last night I wasn’t exactly in best form, but I hoped…”

His lips rolled together as he stopped that train of thought. Gwyn’s heart was pounding as she fought to keep her expression neutral. He looked a bit like a lost puppy and damn if it didn’t yank at that awful, sensitive part of her that longed to fix all the sad, broken things in the world. Just like her bar, and her Bronco. She had a feeling that, with some tender loving care, this man might just be everything she never thought she wanted. But no. She was stronger than that. She’d been hurt too many times to allow herself to fall for another man who would not fight for her. Hell, if his explanation of what had happened the night before meant anything, it seemed he could barely fight for himself. She didn’t have time for that nonsense. She had a business to run that took far too much of her time and energy. She didn’t need another thing to take care of.

He seemed to read that in her face as he sighed dejectedly, hanging his head for a moment before rising from his seat. Setting the coffees on the corner of her desk, he gave her a sad smile. “I really am sorry, Gwyn. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” she said coolly, forcing herself to meet his eye and did not miss the flicker of pain in them as he nodded and turned to leave.

As soon as he was gone, she buried her face in her hands and willed herself not to cry the stupid tears that burned her eyes. He wasn’t worth it.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

~*~*~*~

Gwyn swiped a hand across the sweat that had collected on her brow as she finally managed to catch up with the mad rush that had suddenly hit her bar in a wave. Turning towards the far end, intending to restock the ice chest, she bit back a sigh when she found Azriel waiting there with a ghost of a smile. 

Ever since the morning he’d come to see her to try and explain what had happened with him and Morrigan nearly two weeks ago, he’d shown up at Syren almost every night, with or without Cassian, sometimes not even drinking, just sitting at the end of the bar and watching her as she worked. The first few times he barely spoke to her outside of the words necessary to order a drink. Gradually, his smiles became more frequent as he attempted to banter with her as they had before, apparently finding her steely responses amusing.

She’d be lying if she said it didn’t excite her a little every time he gave her that crooked grin when she gave him some smart ass retort. She liked sparring with him, and each time  he smiled at her she both wanted to smack him and drag him over the bar to have her way with him right there on the sticky floor. The thought was tempting.

Ignoring the heated response that thought elicited in her, she took a bracing breath and walked over to him. If she added a bit of sway to the movement of her hips as she did so, and if his eyes dipped down to watch the movement with hungry eyes, well… that was no one’s business.

“What do you want?” she snapped. The regular sitting two seats away gave her a sharp look, likely shocked at her lack of manners when she was so friendly with everyone else. Azriel just grinned, pointing at the newest addition to the menu. 

“Why is this one called the Priestess?”

The corner of her lip twitched. “Because it’s deceptively sweet,” she purred. “And if you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself on your knees.”

His eyes darkened as his grin turned a bit seductive. “Sounds perfect.”

Fuck. Me. She thought. She had no defenses for that smile. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself giving in much sooner than she’d intended. 

She’d already decided to give him another chance. Honestly, how was a girl meant to resist such charm when he showed up at her bar continuously, no matter how harsh she was? Nesta and Emerie had also voted in his favor, giving her knowing grins the moment he’d walked in every night. She had no doubt of his sincerity when he’d said he liked her. And damn it all if she didn’t like him too, if for no other reason than his stubborn persistence. 

She held his gaze a moment longer before turning to grab her ingredients. Bourbon, lemon juice, thyme infused simple syrup, peach puree and a splash of sweet tea. He watched intently as she added everything to the shaker, his gaze on her breasts and she lifted it to shake. Straining it into a glass, she slid it over the bar to him, holding his stare as he lifted it to his lips and took a long sip. 

Swiping a stray droplet from the corner of his lips, his tongue stroked over the tip before sucking it into his mouth. Her knees wobbled a bit but she kept a straight face as she called over her shoulder to Emerie. “I’m going on break.”

Behind her, her friend snicked but agreed. Azriel grinned as she winked at him before turning on her heel and hurrying to the back. By the time she grabbed her keys, and a condom, and made her way to her truck, Azriel was stalking around the side of the building to meet her. Wanting more space than the front seat offered, she flipped open the hatch and climbed into the bed. A hand grabbed her ankle, yanking her back slightly. Before she knew what was happening,  her jeans were off and Azriel was climbing in behind her, still fully clothed. The hatch slammed closed and he was on her, hands tangling in her hair as their mouths crashed together. 

She squeaked when he suddenly flipped them over, dragging her up to straddle his face. He grinned up at her as his fingers pushed her underwear aside, stroking her lazily. “It’s not quite kneeling, but given the lack of space back here, it will have to do.” And then his mouth was on her.

For several moments, all Gwyn could do was grip the back of the seats and attempt to breathe. His tongue was merciless as he licked and sucked and nipped and worshiped her. Her orgasm built shamefully fast and though she did her best to hold it off, there was little she could do against such onslaught. Soon enough she was shaking and screaming and grinding against his face. His fingers dug into her ass, encouraging her to move, and the vibrations of his groans only made her shake harder.

When she couldn’t take anymore, he relented, loosening his hold and allowing her to pull away from him. She stared down at him in a pleasured haze, watching as he panted and licked his lips with a satisfied smile. Fuck. 

She didn’t realize she’d said it outloud until his grin widened. “I need you inside me,” there was no disguising the huskiness of her voice as she said it. She moved to grab the condom from the back pocket of her jeans that were bunched up in the far corner but he flipped her over before she could go far, laying her out diagonally along the bed of the truck. Reaching up for the seatbelt of the driver's seat, she watched in confusion and then anticipation as he pulled her hands above her head and bound her wrists with the strap, leaving her open to him. 

She gave a breathless laugh as he scrambled out of his pants, tucking a condom from his own pocket between his teeth. “Someone was optimistic, I see.”

He shrugged, unrepentant. Yanking his shirt over his head, he was suddenly, gloriously naked and she looked her fill as he rolled the condom on, sorry not to have use of her hands to touch every inch of him. Later, she promised herself. Because there would be a later.

Stretching himself over her, his kiss was surprisingly tender and she felt herself melt a little more. “I missed you,” he said, trailing kisses down her neck. She wrapped her legs around him as she felt his cock slide against her clit. Making his way back up to her lips, he continued to thrust against her, making her wetter but still not entering her. “Please tell me this isn’t just a one time thing,” he begged. 

“It will be if you don’t fuck me right the fuck now,” she grumbled.

He laughed, his eyes sparkling in the darkness. “Yes, my syren,” he promised. He was inside her in the next breath and she gasped at the sudden fullness. His movements were excruciatingly slow as he allowed her to adjust to him, his cock dragging through her with each slow thrust. The sensation was delicious but she quickly grew impatient. 

Tugging against her restraints, the seatbelt moved with her but not enough to touch him, causing her to groan her frustration. “Azriel,” she snapped his name and his answering laugh was low and sexy. 

Bracing himself above her on an elbow, his other hand wrapped lightly around her throat and he held her gaze as his pace increased until her thighs were squeezing around him and the beginnings of an orgasm stirred. “Is this what you wanted?” he growled.

“Yes,” she breathed, her back arching as she tried to meet his thrusts. “Yes- fuck, yes!”

Her eyes slammed shut as another orgasm barreled through her, Azriel continuing to fuck her through it. He grunted as her pussy squeezed him until he too was coming apart, the fingers around her throat contracting slightly. His mouth found hers again as they both came down until the necessity for air forced them apart. 

Their bodies were covered in sweat as he rolled off of her as much as he could in the cramped space, reaching up to release her wrists. Taking each in his hands, he gently massaged the red marks between his fingers. All she could do was lay there and breathe, temporarily unable to move her body. Brushing hair out of her face, she felt his lips on her forehead as they lay there in silence.

A silence that was abruptly shattered by her alarm, signaling the end of her break. 

“Fuck. I don’t know if I can go back to work after that,” she groaned. Azriel’s hand slid down from her cheek to squeeze her hip and then she felt him moving about the space, probably redressing. She didn’t object as he helped her back into her pants. 

He was smiling, but she could tell there was something he wanted to say. “What is it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Well, I don’t want to presume anything,” he said as he helped her out of the back. “But I was already planning on hanging out most of the night, if you’d like the company…”

Gwyn arched a brow as she took a moment to make sure she was presentable. “Oh?”

Azriel closed up her truck and turned to give her a wicked smile. “Perhaps if you give me another Priestess, you can get me on my knees for real later…”

Her lips curled in a slow grin as she sauntered past him. “Now there’s something to look forward to.”

[ofduskanddreams]

Drabble Event Masterlist

A list of all the fics written as a part of my 600 follower milestone celebration. You can find the series on AO3 or search the tag "kate's celebratory drabbles series" on my page to find them as well. All fics listed are less than a thousand words unless they are marked "*"

Give Over To The Fall ✦ Mor x Elain ✦ T

When Feyre and Nesta ditch girl's night, Elain and Mor head to Rita's alone, and long-simmering things boil over.

A Sunshiny Sound ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ G

Regency AU || Despite being friends (and neighbors) with Lucien Vanserra since childhood, Elain has spent the past months wondering if that friendship has come to an end as his letters have grown few and far between. Then he calls upon her one afternoon out of the blue, and things are not what they had seemed.

Otherworldly* ✦ Mor x Emerie ✦ G

Regency AU || Emerie leads a simple life. She has the store she inherited upon her father's death, her skill with a needle and thread, and far more independence than most of her peers could dream of. When she receives a mysterious request from the lady of the county, Emerie is too curious to deny it.

Like They Want To Lick You ✦ Azriel x Gwyn ✦ T

Modern AU || It never bothered her before, the hungry eyes that always followed Azriel wherever they went. But this is their honeymoon, he belongs to her now in every imaginable way, and she can't help feeling a little possessive.

The Sky Has No Walls ✦ Azriel & Rhys & Cassian ✦ T

Rhys and Cassian helping Azriel learn to fly.

Sensation and the Scent of Waterlilies ✦ Azriel x Gwyn ✦ M

Omegaverse AU || Azriel's heat finally ends and he feels incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful Alpha. This is just post-heat softness and Azriel being stupidly in love with Gwyn. There are only vague references to spicy things.

You're Lucky I Love You ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ G

Elain returns home from a meeting and can't find Lucien anywhere in the house. She checks the back garden and what she finds is the last thing she expects.

Reputation to Damage ✦ Nesta x Cassian ✦ M

Modern/Grad School AU || Every semester at Prythian University, a rumor goes around about a professor in a relationship with their TA. It's as predictable as gravity, but Cassian isn't sure how he feels about it this time... because the subject of the rumor might be him.

All That Matters ✦ Nesta x Cassian ✦ M

Picks up where ACOSF chapter 78 leaves off. After the ordeal of the Blood Rite, Briallyn, and Nyx's birth, Nesta and Cassian finally go home. Feelings are felt, love is demonstrated through care, and they finally get some much-needed rest.

Lack of Discretion ✦ Elain x Lucien ✦ T

Modern AU || Elain has had a long week, but she's determined to beat her exhaustion and meet Vassa for drinks. They'd already had to reschedule it several times. Unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances prevent Vassa from joining her that night as well. At least the beautiful new bartender asks if he can join her when his shift ends.

This Lovely Enigma* ✦ Azriel x Eris ✦ M

Royalty AU || The law requires that King Eris Vanserra find a consort and partner within one year of taking the throne. Eris's expectations are low, and the line of prospective consorts being introduced to him is still managing to meet them or, at least, they were. Then Azriel walked into the throne room.

Truth or Dare, Azriel?* ✦ Gwynriel + Elucien ✦ M

Modern AU || It's their annual week up at Rhysand's family cabin. When Nesta and Cassian retreat to their room and Rhys and Feyre head off to theirs shortly after, the others know they'll need to occupy their time before risking going into the cabin. A tipsy game of Truth or Dare around the bonfire takes a few very interesting turns.

Warmth Lingers in the Smoke ✦ Azriel x Eris ✦ T

Regency AU || With his father recently deceased, Eris is leaving for London in the morning and all the duties that await him as the new Lord Vanserra. It's his last night walking the mile to Azriel's cottage on the neighboring estate and losing a few precious hours to the man he never meant to fall for.

[moodymelanist]

It's Close to Midnight

Happy Halloween, everyone! I wanted to get the first part of this posted in time for ~spooky vibes~, but the smutty part 2 will be coming soon (hopefully sometime this week if I can get my act together lol). Enjoy 👻🎃🧡

Read on AO3 here!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: None

✷✷✷✷✷

Nesta sighed in relief as she ducked inside Last Rites, a warm tingle washing over her skin the moment she crossed over the bar’s threshold and into its protective wards. It had been a long, long day reviewing manuscripts, and she was more than ready to spend some time blowing off steam with her friends. She easily spotted the two of them sitting with a space left between them at the bar, and she darted through the crowd so she could slump into the empty barstool with a groan.

“Rough day?” Emerie asked from next to her, playing with one of her protection amulets aimlessly.

“Rough week,” Nesta commiserated. She caught the bartender’s attention and ordered a round of drinks for the three of them before turning back to her friend. “Gods, I’m exhausted.”

“Tell me about it,” Gwyn joined in on her left. 

“You know I can whip up an elixir for you,” Emerie offered. Her friend was quite the accomplished witch, so much that she taught advanced potions courses at one of the fancy private schools for young spellcasters to hone their abilities. “For both of you. It’s really no problem.”

“I’ll be fine, really,” Nesta replied, offering a tired smile. “Just… hungry.”

Nesta didn’t always like talking about what it was like to be a succubus, but she was certainly thankful she had friends who could understand her predicament. She’d been able to survive on human food until she reached adulthood, and suddenly she’d been forced to learn how to feed on a different kind of sustenance so survive. Things had been easy in college – the sheer amount of sexual energy radiating out of University of Prythian’s Velaris campus had been overwhelming – but she was more than several years out of school, so she’d had to refine her arsenal. Emerie had been a godsend with her ability to whip up elixirs and potions to satisfy Nesta’s hunger, but nothing compared to the rush of taking energy right from the source.

Gwyn patted her hand sympathetically. “I feel you, Nesta. I’ve been getting a little peckish, too, so if you want to go out this weekend…”

Gwyn was a lightsinger, another kind of supernatural creature that fed on life energy. She didn’t need sex to survive, and she didn’t need to feed nearly as often as Nesta did, but it was nice having another person around who understood what Nesta was going through. 

“That would be great,” Nesta replied, turning her hand up so she could squeeze Gwyn’s freckled one in thanks. “I’ll text you.”

“We could go to the Vampire Cafe,” Emerie suggested. She smiled in thanks at the bartender as their drinks were delivered a took a sip of her cocktail before continuing. “It’s not like regular mortals can tell much of a difference between us all, anyway.”

Mortals and the supernatural lived alongside each other, many choosing to mingle and spend more time with one another than was strictly necessary. There were all kinds of laws in place about feeding from people unconsensually, but there had long been bars and clubs designed with exceptions to the rules in mind. Mortals came to these kinds of places with the full expectation of hoping to be fed on, and many supernatural creatures were more than happy to take them up on that offer. Mortals got to experience all kinds of crazy highs and benefits depending on what creature they let take a bite, and as long as nobody was permanently hurt, it was all above-board.

As a witch, Emerie bordered the thin line between mortal and supernatural – she was born mortal, but with all that magic in her blood she wouldn’t make a particularly tasty snack. Spellcasters were unique compared to a lot of the other supernatural creatures Nesta had met, and she was certainly thankful to have Emerie in her corner when she knew how powerful her friend was just on her own  – with her coven, Emerie was practically unstoppable.

“Are you making plans without me, my love?” Nesta turned to see Cresseida had slid onto the barstool next to Emerie, looking rather unimpressed.

“Never,” Emerie replied, reaching for her girlfriend’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You know I would’ve sent you a message, princess.”

Cresseida and Emerie had been together for a few months now, but Cresseida could be hard to get a hold of at the best of times considering she was a mermaid. She spent most of her time in the water, but she and some of her more powerful family members had retained the ability to shift into a human form when they walked on land. 

Nesta turned to Gwyn to give the couple their privacy, the two of them striking up their own conversation while Emerie and Cresseida continued to flirt. It didn’t take long for them to disappear in the direction of the bathroom, but she and Gwyn were used to this sort of thing, so they knew Emerie would be back to actually catch up once Cresseida was finished having her way.

If anything, Nesta more than understood. She’d had quite the thing for mermaids when she was younger, and even more so in sirens, but she’d had one too many toxic relationships with them to really be interested anymore.

Nesta let her eyes wander over the crowd as Gwyn looked through the menu, trying to decide what to order for the next round. There were all kinds of supernatural creatures inside, from harpies to shapeshifters to your more traditional vampires and werewolves, but her attention snagged on a group of men standing on the other end of the bar from where she and Gwyn sat.

One of the hottest men she’d ever seen was leaning against the counter as he talked to two friends, and she wasn’t exaggerating about his description – not only was he ridiculously attractive, especially in that leather jacket, but even she could see the literal flames dancing in eyes as he played with a tiny ball of flame across his palm. His friends didn’t seem bothered by it, but she doubted they would be friends if they were. They were all similar in appearance, with golden brown skin, dark hair, and whorls of black tattoos peeking out from under their collars, but the similarities stopped there. 

The one who’d caught her attention looked the strongest out of the three of them, but she knew better than to let appearances deceive her. He had muscles almost the size of her head, but even the biggest men would drop like a rock if she took too much from them at once.

Still, she wouldn’t mind the opportunity to get a taste. He was a far cry from her usual type, but she couldn’t deny how gorgeous he was, especially when he laughed. His amusement took over his whole body, and even though the bar was too loud to hear what his laugh sounded like, she found herself wanting to know. It wasn’t the only thing she was wondering – she wanted to know what his dark curls would feel like under her fingers, or if those large hands had callouses that would feel incredible on her skin – but it was certainly on the list.

Nesta realized far too late he was looking at her, and she couldn’t jerk her gaze away fast enough to hide her blush at being caught out. She could feel his gaze lingering on her, and she hoped to anyone listening that she wouldn’t be forced to make a fool out of herself. She wasn’t exactly the best at socializing, and there was always the lingering fear that the other person would lose interest once they found out what she was. 

“Hey,” Nesta heard from behind her. She turned in her seat to reveal the guy she’d been staring at standing near her, along with one of his friends he’d been talking to across the bar. His friend looked to be the strong and silent type, but he was practically leaking shadows in a way that screamed shadowsinger even to the untrained eye. “Is this seat taken?”

Shit, she thought, panicking somewhat at the realization she’d need to say something. 

“Our friend went to the bathroom, but she’ll be a while,” Gwyn swooped in, already eyeing up Hot Guy’s friend with a gleam in her eyes. “So we won’t say no to some new friends until she comes back.”

“Don’t mind if we do, then,” Hot Guy replied with a grin. He slid into Emerie’s former seat while his friend shot him a slightly-panicked look on his way to sit down next to Gwyn. At least someone understood how she felt. “Do you have a name? I can’t just keep calling you Pretty Stalker.”

Nesta snorted despite herself. “I’m Nesta.”

“Nesta,” he repeated, nodding to himself. This close up she could feel the heat radiating off him even though he’d long stopped playing with fire. “I’m Cassian, and my friend over there is Azriel. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she replied. She took a sip of her cocktail just for something to do, and started talking about the first topic that sprung into her mind. “What was with the fire earlier?”

“So I guess Pretty Stalker wasn’t too far off of a nickname, then?” he teased, his eyes lighting up at the return of her blush. “I’m a hellhound. Fire’s part of my whole deal.”

Nesta didn’t know much about hellhounds other than they were supposed to help guard Hell slash the Underworld, but it was still just as impressive watching him play with the tiny flame across his fingers again. This close, she could confirm her suspicions about his calloused hands, and it was all she could do not to grab one and press it against her skin.

“I’m a succubus,” she eventually offered up once he was done showing off. She hoped he wouldn’t be weird about it – not everyone was comfortable with her lifestyle, but she wanted him to be different. She was having fun talking to a stranger, for once in her life, and she wanted to pull a laugh out of him for herself. “No fancy tricks like you, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Cassian responded with a smirk, leaning closer to her so he could lower his voice. “I’ve heard pretty differently.”

“Because mortal men are so forthcoming,” she drawled. She finished her cocktail and set the empty glass gently on the counter, silently impressed as he immediately flagged down the bartender to order them both another round of drinks. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He made an impressed face once he tasted it. “But that’s your problem right there.”

“ Do explain my own state of existence to me, Cassian,” Nesta said with a roll of her eyes. Typical. “It’s really endearing.”

“I’m not trying to be an asshole, I promise,” Cassian said back, laughing. “It’s just – I’ve heard mortals aren’t really that filling for you. You’ve never wanted to try something else?”

“Why, are you offering?” she asked dryly.

“Maybe,” he told her with a grin. He made an obvious show of checking her out, his eyes roaming hungrily over the hint of cleavage showing from her work blouse and the way her fitted slacks hugged the curves of her hips. “Actually – yes. Yes I am.”

Nesta wouldn’t pretend she hadn’t thought about trying another kind of food – another flavor – but other supernatural creatures were understandably squeamish about it in a way that mortal men usually weren’t. She’d never fed on someone that wasn’t mortal before, but then again, it wasn’t as though she’d had the opportunity to do so until now. 

Especially not on someone as mouthwatering as Cassian.

“Hmm,” Nesta said eventually, pretending to still be thinking about it. 

“Hmm,” Cassian repeated. He was still grinning as he leaned closer to speak directly into her ear. “You wanna get out of here?”

Ten minutes later, Nesta found herself saying a hasty goodbye to Gwyn and firing off an apologetic text to Emerie. Gwyn had just given her a knowing glance before turning back to her conversation with Azriel, and Emerie still hadn’t returned from wherever she’d slithered off to with Cresseida, so as long as she stayed safe, Nesta knew her friends wouldn’t be too choked up about her cutting girls’ night short.

“So, Nesta,” Cassian began as they exited the bar. His apartment was close enough to walk, so they’d decided to brave the cool October air instead of dealing with a cab. “Nes.”

“That’s a stupid nickname,” Nesta retorted.

“Sweetheart,” he suggested instead with an annoying grin. She just rolled her eyes and decided she could argue about the choice of nickname later. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What is this, a job interview?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m trying to find someone who can keep up with me,” he joked. “Preferably a partner, but you wouldn’t believe how unqualified the other candidates have been.”

She huffed a laugh and decided to indulge him anyway. “Uh… I don’t know. I work in editing. I’ve been thinking about getting a cat. I have two sisters.”

“I bet you wield a mean red pen. But a definite yes on the cat, not that they like me very much,” he replied quickly. “Are they succubi, too? Your sisters.”

“No, they’re human.” Nesta couldn’t help but think of how defenseless it made them, even though Feyre hated the idea of seeming weak while Elain often used it to her advantage. “It doesn’t stop them from getting into trouble, though.”

“You sound pretty close,” Cassian observed.

“We’ve had our ups and downs,” she replied with a shrug. She liked being honest with him, so she added, “But things got a lot easier once their father died.”

Owain had technically raised her, but he certainly wasn’t her real father. It was no secret how succubi often came into the world, and Nesta had been no exception. Owain had known from the beginning what she was, and had made his disdain for her very clear.

They both knew he had only provided for her under extreme duress — Rhea had begged him to publicly claim Nesta as his child, and on her deathbed, made him promise to take care of her at least until she could fend for herself. Nesta hadn’t spoken to him since she’d graduated from high school, and had only shown up to the funeral out of respect for her sisters.

Nesta had never met her true father, but she hadn’t been too torn up about losing the next worst thing.

“Daddy issues? Me too,” Cassian joked, pulling her attention back to him. “What is it the kids say these days? You can’t be attractive, have a decent sleep schedule, and have a good relationship with both of your parents. You can only have two out of three.”

“Are you saying you have the first two?” Nesta quipped back, surprising herself. It was fun talking to him in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time, and she found herself wanting to rile him up and see what he did about it. 

“Nah, just the first one,” he replied with a smirk. “But if you’re offering to wear me out enough where I can have a decent sleep schedule, who am I to say no?”

“That’s a pretty tall order, Sparky,” she answered, pulling a full-body laugh out of him. “What do you do that you can’t have a good sleep schedule?”

“Guarding the gates of Hell isn’t exactly the most cushy 9 to 5 out there,” he told her dryly, pulling snort out of her. “My other friend at the bar… let’s just say he has a lot of connections downstairs, and Az and I spend a lot of time making sure they don’t come back to bite him in the ass later.”

“And I thought my day job was exciting,” she told him just as dryly while they waited for the crosswalk signal.

Cassian laughed again, showing off his white teeth. “It’s probably more fun than mine.”

“Because reading someone describe a dick as a ‘throbbing manhood’ is surely more fun than downstairs.” Nesta smiled, secretly pleased at the disbelieving expression on his handsome face. “Trust me, there are even worse ones.”

“Hopefully you don’t use any of said worse ones,” he said with a wink before they crossed the street. They rounded another corner before he began slowing in front of a nice-looking building, pulling out his keys from the pocket of his dark jeans. “I don’t think I could take hearing it.”

“Don’t worry, I stick to the classics,” she responded with a smirk. He held the door open for her and placed a warm hand on her lower back, gently steering her through the lobby and toward the elevators. “Assuming you’re worthy of hearing them, that is.”

“I guess you’ll be the judge of that, hmm?” he asked. They were barely inside the elevators before he was using that hand on her back to pull her to him, telegraphing every move so she could pull away if she wanted. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” she answered, letting herself be tugged closer so they could finally get their hands on one another. His skin felt even hotter now that she could feel it up close, and she couldn’t help but moan at the feel of one of those calloused hands cupping the back of her neck. He kissed just as brazenly as he’d flirted with her, and combined with how much sexual energy she could sense from him, it was enough to make her a little lightheaded.

The ding of the elevator as it stopped on his floor was enough to pull them to their senses, and Cassian grinned as he released her with a final kiss to the cheek before motioning for her to go first. Nesta somehow managed not to embarrass herself by walking away from him, although she couldn’t help but smile as he took her hand and led her down the hallway until they stopped at apartment 536.

“Home sweet home,” Cassian announced as they walked through the door. His apartment was nice and big, possessing that lived-in feel without coming across as too much of a bachelor pad. “Make yourself comfortable. You want anything from the kitchen?”

“You’re the only thing I can really eat in here,” Nesta replied, arching an eyebrow at him. “But water’s fine.”

He just laughed before returning to the kitchen, flipping on lights as he went so neither of them were stumbling in the dark. “Be right back, sweetheart.”

Read Part Two Here!

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[pierrot-dokki]

Ok hear me out

Modern AU with Bartender!Garreth x Biker!Gwyn

[unsustainableeuphoria]

If we ever go out for drinks you'll have to record me after a while. I never remember what happens after a few drinks. Id want to know what I did to make my body so sore. 🤔

-Gwyn

Oh you're fine! I think you were probably just like, dancing or something!

But did you hear about that one girl at the party the other night?? Apparently she'd been flirting with a bunch of dudes at the bar and she ended up getting way too drunk; even after the bartender cut her off the dudes kept buying drinks "for themselves" then giving them to her. By the time they dragged her off to a private- and I do mean dragged, she was well past the point of walking on her own- you could tell she was out of it. The guys kept touching her, squeezing her tits in her tight little top, and she giggled and stumbled and let them play with her.

Now there's videos of her being passed around; I know it's kinda messed up, but they're actually really hot, watching the dudes take turns with her while she's so wasted that she's practically a fuckdoll. Fuck, she probably doesn't even remember what happened that night.

You wanna see? I'll send you one of the vids, don't worry her face is blurred out in this one. Funny thing though, Gwyn, her hair looks a lot like yours :p

[goesnowhere-doesnothing]

On a scale of Danny Torrence to Gwyn how well did your encounter with the illusory form of your abusive father as a bartender go?

[knowlessman]

benny no hill adventures (bnha) s2e17-20

why DOES this man have no nose, anyway?

think this OP's growing on me more than the other ones tbh

"look properly at what you want to be" damn I wish I wanted to be anything

hm. is Stain cleaned up, then? nobody's been dying so far, I doubt they did him in by accident (in spite of, y'know, covering him with fire, which can fry your lungs like instantly according to a CSI episode I saw once)

okay, now THAT is either a dead nomu or Mr X, no way that's not lethal force

huh, Brooklyn has a hostage (starting to kind of miss that show, but dang did Goliath Chronicles get boring) -- elemental spears? who are you, Gwyn?

"the fight with Stain probably only took ten minutes" I've played DnD. ten minutes is forever. heck, ONE minute is a long time.

…whut

-- well I guess that one's explicitly a dead nomu

handface's costume just kind of looks like nothing when he's only got the one hand on him. looks like a shitty onesie. thought wearing baby clothes was mineta's bag

:O he DOES have a nose. I guess it was burned off, maybe? kinda looks like michael jackson's, tbh

"at that moment, a broken rib pierced his lung" …deku did you just kill a man

"on that water tower. are those onlookers? why's one of them wearing a black onesie?" wait I think it's not a onesie, I think it's a black long-sleeved shirt with completely featureless black pants but wow is that just not even a look, especially next to portal guy's fucking classy bartender getup

-- googles sorry, apparently what I thought it was was a romper

the piece of chileaf is a dog man. …idk, tracks (as it were) I guess? one of the detectives is a catperson.

-- …this "we have to punish you for intervening but only if this is made public" bit is very long-winded and, tbph, not really understandable. hell, the kids were doing some kind of ride-along thing to begin with, and considering they're all effectively armed and far closer to combat-ready than makes any sense outside of shonen… yeah this kind of just feels like a waste of time. although I guess, realistically, if superpowers became the norm it'd take hella long for any country's laws to be able to change enough for anything to make sense

-- …come to think of it, america would probably encourage this kind of thing but holy shit the place would just look like a pile of warring apocalypses by a couple generations in, the life expectancy would be down the toilet

there was some kid's show that had dog heads on top of human bodies, it was a bit terrifying and I have no earthly idea what it was called but I'm sure it was real. might've just been one segment of a different show

this random newscaster guy either is part tiefling or just wandered in from jojo part 6

DANCING BOY. IT'S THE DANCING BOY, THE BOY WHO DANCES. IS HE THE GUY MAKING NOMUS, DON'T TELL ME -- wait, nomu. yoshimitsu soul calibur, that's what it's been reminding me of. 's one of his mantras.

if a radio buzzes in the forest and no one is around to hear it - oh nvm, apparently alt-color Blanka is around to hear it

ohey it's knife girl… shit, I've sort of heard a little bit about her quirk, wonder if she's a relative of stain's

…wait, handface was literally just competing for ratings? what a loser.

hehehehehe bakugo still has that boy band reject 'do

'XD (todoroki going "I must be cursed, people around me keep fucking up their hands!")

(all might's ringtone) "I AM… ANSWERING THE PHONE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!"

"stain's Cha stat is too high" krisma. bags of it. -- "those puny little ants outnumber us a hundred to one. and if they ever figure that out…" um, good thing Stain and Every Villain is Losers have nothing in common then.

I thought facepalm's only motive was killing all might. stain apparently thinks All Might's "the only true hero." …shrugs Well, I guess we haven't seen any of these copycats or whatnot actually interacting with the League yet, so maybe those auditions won't go anywhere and they'll have to start their own thing

todoroki: "they said endeavor defeated the killer when he didn't actually do anything. I want to see his expression." deku (to himself, thankfully): "you become kind of mean when it comes to endeavor, huh todoroki?" …! deku. deku wtf, you say the weirdest fucking things

…jeanist's costume is so friggin weird, it has a built-in cone of shame and the cone has a belt on it, I can't get over it

bakugo's fucking internship hair tho 'XD he looks like a snooty nepo baby, rather than… well, the opposite I guess… but anyway, rather than a guy who had to be put in a Hannibal costume after winning first place

jeanist's cone of shame has fucking back pockets, really tho wtf

'XDDD the fucking slime monster hostage thing again, bakugo is gonna be hit over the head with that for the rest of his life and it is gonna be hilarious every time -- "I wasn't captured, I was strategizing" "he's too proud" water's damp

gonna say. earphone jack's costume might be my favorite. it's just regular fucking clothes. it's, like, idk, stylish-(?)-but-not-overstated, normal-ass, comfortable-looking clothes that you can run in. (I might have already said this, not sure)

(froppy's internship with the smugglers or whatnot) "Boss Innsmouth" oh, that bodes well -- Innsmouth must be the Parent Inkling, judging by the size of that tentacle -- …hm. aye, that was fun

next one's a loredump, judging from the title, but let's have it

it's not a big thing, but I swear I don't remember iida always waving his arms around like this in season 1. he just kinda started doing it around the beginning of season 2. still feels kinda weird tbh.

let yaoyozorazoru - …let quiet metal gear (sorry) wear clothes challenge whatever year this was

(rescue race) "who do you think will win?" "deku will be last!" 'XD bakugo could be watching a competition with neither him nor deku in it and he'd still say that

all might with the american thighs. gonna be honest, was not expecting buttcam in this show.

(worst character found something) oh, for fuck's sake -- (kyoka put his eye out) damn straight.

("you remember how One for All is transferred, right?") uhhh… -- JESUS CHRIST

…well dang, ancient evil and everything huh (well, if a handful of generations counts as "ancient." a forgotten evil anyways) -- "as long as you're with me, I can do anything!" you're talking to a guy who coughs up blood every coupla minutes when he's not in super mode

seems like a decent stopping point. -- …they hid more episode after the ending; I coulda missed this bit. : / …I coulda missed mineta yelling about hot springs, anyway. is there anything here that I wouldn't just get from the next episode? -- "that kid will be the next me" dint know orochimaru was in this show

"here's the preview!" thanks for the warning deku; aye, this's my stop