#how to divide plants in the spring

[fordragonfliesandme]

Unlock the Secrets to a Pristine Spring Garden: 10 Essential Tips for Successful Clean Up

Introduction to spring garden clean-up Spring is a magical time of year when nature awakens from its winter slumber, and our gardens come to life once again. As the days grow longer and the temperatures rise, it’s time to roll up our sleeves and get to work on cleaning up our gardens after the long winter months. A thorough spring garden clean-up is essential to ensure a healthy and vibrant…

[oweninadaydream]

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞) || 𝐀.𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary : Can anybody blame a young lady for indulging in her deepest desires despite suspecting that the end is imminent?

song inspo: Fortnight by Taylor Swift (ft. Post Malone)

pairing : Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

word count : 1564 words

contains : rake!Anthony, unrequited? love, mentions of alcohol and I think that's it!

a/n : I am not the owner of the gif or the dividers ( I don't possess such talents jakjhakjshda). This will have a second part (already working on it). The next chapter of the Feel the rush series will be posted after my exams, sorry :((( Anyway, enjoy !!!

The maid finished working on (Y/N)’s makeup and she turned to look at the final product in the mirror. Her  hair was perfectly held at the back of her neck with a chignon. Her grandmother’s diadem added that sophisticated touch the young woman craved. After taking in the breathtaking shade of her dress in the mirror, she started twirling and giggling around her chamber in a fairy manner. Someone could wonder, what on earth was going on inside the girl’s head? The answer was easy, yet so complicated. Lady (Y/L/N) was simply smitten with someone she knew very well, a lifelong friend that seemed interested in her as well. The problem? That man was no other than Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, the most infamous rake of the Ton. 

“Your carriage is ready, miss (Y/L/N)” the butler informed the young lady.

At almost the same time, another voice echoed around the house.

“(Y/N) dear, we must go now. Lady Danbury will not let me hear the end of it if we show up late yet again. I’d also like to chat a bit with Violet, I haven’t seen her since the Featherington ball.” her mother urged her from the hall.

“I’m ready, mother” she answered loud enough for the woman to hear.

On her way to the barouch that would transport them, she realized that the burgundy dahlias that had been planted at the beginning of the summer were finally blooming with the arrival of autumn, contributing to the embellishment of the front garden. She stared at them for a second; her mind was searching for something in them but she couldn’t explain what exactly. She shook her head and she got inside the carriage.

Pacing around the ethereal gardens of Aubrey Hall, her mind couldn’t help the quick escapades to the first time they kissed. Sitting under the blossoming tree, Anthony and her were watching the sunset taking with itself the traces of winter, welcoming the first of many spring nights. The two of them were abnormally quiet, as if the sight of the moon had bewitched them both. (Y/N)'s spine could still feel violent shivers traveling down her spine when recalling the way the Viscount had lightly brushed his nose against hers before capturing her lips into a slow deep kiss. His chapped and demanding mouth stole a couple more pecks before laughing airly, rising from their hidden spot and offering his hand to help her on her feet. 

That glorious evening marked the beginning of … Well, she couldn’t quite state what it was. The rest of the summer was filled with fleeting glances, embraces away from prying eyes and laughing, lots of laughing. (Y/N) had never been happier; after all, the Viscount was by her side every other night. Still, a series of dark thoughts anxiously floated around her head whenever he walked away to attend the gentlemen’s club, or whenever he tried to avoid her gaze after implying anything that had to do with love or compromise outside his mattress.  Shaking her head and changing the subject usually did the trick, but for the last few days, Anthony had been acting ever so strange. 

(Y/N) was absent in deep thoughts when she felt a familiar touch on her back. 

“Anthony” It was not a  question, but the most confident of statements.

“How did you know it was me so surely?” he said while flashing her with one of his infamous smiles.

She raised her head so her eyes stared at him directly. “I could recognize you by smell, by the prints you leave when you step on the ground on a rainy day or simply by tracing your features with only one finger, eyes completely closed. You are no mystery to me” her answer was sweet and sincere, with a touch of flirting attitude.

He went quiet, very quiet. Every bit of the playful attitude  he had shown earlier had disappeared, now replaced by a hard expression. “You ignore plenty of things about me, so stop acting like my-”

“What has come over you? Your usually particular temperament has worsened these past two weeks. I do not appreciate that you talk to me in such a way” she abruptly interrupted in hopes of obtaining any kind of answer that would help her understand.

“I cannot bear with this any longer. I just feel like we have gone astray from the path we had established for us. I wish for us to be on the same page, and that implies remembering the casual nature of our… deal. Please tell me you understand” his pleading eyes accompanied the request perfectly.

“Forgive me, Anthony but I can’t wrap my head around what you are saying. I thought we were evolving, like our relationship. I know you are not the most kin on marrying or doing this as everyone else does, but after all we’ve been through, don’t you dare tell me that I have been delusionally imagining all these romantic gestures and moments”

“Mademoiselle Parisot is upstairs waiting for me. I would love to continue to discuss this in another time, unless there’s anything that must be told in this exact moment” Was his voice meant to sound confident? (Y/N) could almost feel some sorrow slipping through the cracks of his quick confession. 

The astounded expression on (Y/N)’s face showed that she did in fact not comprehend any of what Anthony was rambling about. A quick sight that denoted shock and upset preceded the lady’s monologue.

“I love you, Anthony, and it’s ruining my life. I can’t keep sighing like a damsel trapped in the highest tower, as I yearn for a future that my eyes will not behold. I can’t keep masquerading my true desires, in hopes that you will choose to stay. I will not continue to morph into whatever kind of woman you fantasize about at the moment, making all those efforts for a man who could never spare a glance at me in such a way, and losing myself in the process. I always thought my worst misery would originate in a forced, loveless marriage with some old earl at best , that would little by little drain every spark of joy within me. But oh, what fool I have been. This senseless affair we have going on has come to distress me more than the worst of husbands ever could. So, go on, run straight into her arms. I do not care, not one bit, my lord. You have shattered my heart a million times throughout the years, I cannot feel it tearing apart anymore.”

His stupidly handsome face showed an evident feeling of distraughtness ; she had never raised her voice like that, nor had she ever used similar words around (or against) him. He quickly shook  his head to wash away the initial shock, substituting it with his typical stoic mask.

“I have never intended to inflict any kind of pain upon yourself, my lady. But, as my dearest friend, you should have known what you were getting yourself into, (y/n).”

His casual condescending  tone made her sick to the stomach and the loudest of silences entered the scene. After a minute or two, a gentle breeze interrupted (y/n)’s pondering. She then raised her head up in a defying manner. After making sure her voice wouldn't give up on her (even though her lower lip was trembling), she decided to voice her thoughts. 

“That's the thing that bothers me so much about infatuation. It makes humans stupid, it makes them believe it can fix anything, even lost causes such as yourself, Viscount Bridgerton. I do not desire to disturb my lord any longer, so excuse me.” And just like that, she was heading back inside the ballroom.

The sound of her heels furiously hitting the floor with every step matched perfectly with the accelerated heartbeat of the man left stranded in the gardens. Without much thought he decided to return to the chambers where his seemingly perfect mistress awaited for him.

Not very far from the action, a slightly inebriated Benedict was laughing obnoxiously loud with Eloise and Colin. The sight of  (Y/N) crossing the doors so rapidly while trying to contain her sobs and tears made the three Bridgerton siblings turn their heads to follow their friend’s trajectory. 

“Should we-” Benedict was eager to console (Y/N) despite his clouded reasoning.

“I would say that she needs a moment to collect herself, Benedict. Our presence could do more harm to her already poor state.” Colin spoke.

“I will try to approach her later. I wonder what has happened… Wasn’t she talking with Anthony?” Eloise recalled perfectly how Anthony had started to converse with Miss (Y/N) earlier that night, right in front of the thriving gardenias. Everything seemed perfectly normal when she was passing by, but it was obvious that something had happened after she had gone back inside.

Eloise moved rapidly to peek around the corner, followed by the two males whose curiosity was unbearable as well. On the other side of the garden, an obviously tense Anthony was making his way to his chamber with a light emanating from the inside of the room.

Without a second thought, Benedict voiced what the three of them were thinking in that moment.

“I think that is exactly the problem, my dear sister…”

[surielstea]

Give ‘em a show

Based on this request.

Pairing: High Lord!Eris x High Lady!Reader

Summary: The autumn court celebrates the equinox with a great rite of their own, what happens when the High Lord finds out Reader left the Forest House in search for him?

Warnings: Smut | minors dni | p in v | reader and Eris are both aroused by a higher power (?) | breeding kink | riding | public sex (on throne) | dirty talk | praise | cream pie | multi-orgasm

A/N: Sorry this took me forever, but I’m really happy with how it turned out so I hope you guys enjoy! 🧡🧡

6.2k words

It was the most festive day of the year in autumn, the equinox. When both night and day are perfectly divided and everything feels at peace. We called it Mabon. The peak of nature's abundance.

The holiday usually entailed freshly harvested crops and feasts to satisfy an entire continent. People gathered to the crop fields and pray, whether it be for good fortune or the wealth of the earth it didn't matter. They honored the soil beneath their feet as much as any other living thing. Similar to Calanmai in the spring there are bonfires in every direction, dancing surrounding the pits.

This was also the day high Fae reinforced the wards around their homes, seeing it as a new beginning.

Some prefer to stay at home and pray to the gods of fire, knelt by the flames that warmed them, having a simple meal of bread and grain. I, however, did not. During the day I'd plant fresh herbs and seeds, placing them in the richest of soils then saying a soft prayer until they began to grow. My harvesting powers have always been my favorite, being able to merely look at a seed and turn it into a blooming flower in the blink of an eye would forever be my favorite party trick.

During the night of Mabon however, I indulged myself in the finest of whiskeys and got drunk as all hel, claiming it was a tradition and a night of commemoration.

"All done?" Eris asked as I came back into the Forest House, my knees covered in dirt from kneeling in the gardens.

"All done." I gave him a small smile and he mirrored it while taking my wide-brimmed sun hat from my head.

"As cute as you look, you need to go change." He hands me the hat and I blink up at him confused. "Or have you forgotten your duties as High Lady?" He arched a manicured brow and I rolled my eyes.

My traditions would be different this year. It was Eris' first year as High Lord, meaning he'd have to put on a show to make sure everyone knew just how powerful he was. Whatever that meant. This also means my job was no longer getting drunk off my face but rather waiting alone in our bedroom where we'd consummate in order to release the power of the High Lord and grace the land with it, allowing harvests and crops to grow until the next Mabon.

"High Lady or not, I'd like to spend my night in a pub with my friends, not some stuffy room with your advisors." I scowl and a smirk tugs at his lips as I drape my hands around his neck.

"A lady of her people." He hums and my grin widens.

"Does that mean you'll let me have my holiday?" I bat my lashes at him.

"I can't," He sighs.

"Eris," I whine. "You're high lord now, fuck me in front of the rest of them for all I care just let me enjoy myself." I plead and he gives me a sorrowful gaze.

"It'll only be a few hours, you'll survive." He placed his hands on my waist and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"But what if you find some other girl on your way to me? I don't like the idea of you roaming this court half naked for just anyone to see, Eris," I dramatically fall into his chest, he tightens his hold on me as if I'm actually going to fall.

"Trust me, all I'll want is you," He guides me back upright so I can stand on my own. "Now go get dressed." His hold on me loosens and I give him the nastiest scowl I can muster.

"Fine, but only because I love you." I excuse as I place the floppy hat atop his head, I think the pink bow brought out his eyes.

"Love you too," He smiles sloppily as I leave his hold, the sun hat remaining on his head as I move away from him, his hand coming down to pat me on the ass, as if encouraging a faster rate, making me toss a glare back at him.

In between now and the beginning of Mabon's night festivities I passed the late afternoon stuck in a meeting room, which was as boring as I thought it was going to be. I spent the entire time drawing the high lord in front of me, making sure to match the glint in his golden eyes to his crown, pure regality as he sat in front of Advisors that used to be in his father's corner.

It's been past an hour, the sun reaching the horizon had told me so, I could already smell the scent of smoke from the bonfires and I knew my time was being wasted. "My lady, are you listening?" I snap to attention, clutching my sketchbook from beneath the table and looking at the male who had snapped his fingers at me, earning a low grumble from Eris as a warning.

"Yes," I answer on instinct.

"Really?" Eris leans forward, muscular forearms resting against the wooden table.

"Mhm." I nod with slightly tinged cheeks, I could never lie to Eris, something about the mating bond, or rather just him, in general, had me somehow giving myself away.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you Fawn?" He narrows his gaze on me and it takes everything in my power to not give in, tell him that every word since greetings has gone in one ear and out the other. All this information was useless anyway, old rules that Beron followed. Not Eris. I don't understand why my mate entertained these old males.

"You know what?" A bright grin spreads over my features as I stand, my chair pushing back against the floor as everyone looks up at me.

"All of you may take an early holiday, enjoy the night, and spend time with your families." I dismiss and they blink up at me.

"Really?" One of them babbles.

"Yeah, really?" The high lord glared at me and my grin widened.

"Really." I nod.

"With all due respect, you're not one to be giving orders around here." The eldest of them scoffed and my smile faltered, I had never expected to hear that in my own court.

"She's your high lady and you will do as she says. Now go before I change my mind." He shoos the male away. Eris may not have liked me cutting the meeting short but he wasn't going to tolerate any discourtesy against me, it may have been wrong to use it to my advantage but all I wanted to do at the moment was curl up by the fire with a freshly poured glass of wine. Second best to getting hammered at the pubs like I would've been doing this time last year.

"You heard him, go." I make hands that send them away and they all scramble off, shuffling out the door with a haste I haven't seen in a while. I smile softly as the last male disappears.

"You are a cruel female." Eris leans back into his seat at the head of the table. I grab my sketchbook and walk down the long stretch of the meeting hall until I'm right beside him.

"Cruel? Or smart?" I tilt my head as I hoist myself up onto the table in front of him.

"Show me what you were drawing that entire time." He places a ringed finger on the top of my pencil and I flip to the page of his half-shaded figure, flipping around to show the male his unfinished portrait. A satisfied grin spreads over his lips as he sees that he is the subject, but he shouldn't be surprised because he is always the subject.

"Is this whole book me?" He flicks through the pages and I pull back before he can see all the drawings of him I sketched from memory on a particularly desperate night when he was gone on a mission.

"Don't be so full of yourself, I wasn't going to draw any of those old males." I roll my eyes and he chuckles. "Plus I was listening, I could draw you with my eyes closed," I confess and he raises a brow, his lopsided smirk making me feel warm inside. "Now can you please just get this celebration over with then come back to me?" I place the sketchbook beside me and look back at him.

"And what will you do while I'm gone?" He places his hands on my hips, a soft look in his eyes.

"Lots of drinking." I shrug, taking hold of his crown and making it crooked atop his head.

"You're quite the drunk." He grumbles and I chuckle.

"I'm a tavern keeper's daughter, what more do you expect?" I grin innocently and he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Alright, come with me," He slips his hand into mine and guides me out of the meeting room.

I intertwine our fingers, occasionally bumping into him, the comparison of his steady figure, walking with only solid steps and articulated movements contrasted to my bounding, my arm brushing his with every step. It was a silent kind of intimacy, our dynamic.

"This my cell for the night?" I ask as we stop in front of our bedroom, a grand suite that seems more like an apartment.

"Don't act like I'm locking you up," He sighs, crossing his arms.

"You're right, I could easily sneak out," I taunt and he narrows his eyes on me.

"I'm not going to put guards outside these doors, however, if I learn that you've left I will find you," He says, his tone shifting from playful to menacing all in one sentence. "And depending on where you are, I might just fuck you in front of all of them," His words sink to my core, it wasn't much of a warning if it was my idea to begin with.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I smirk up at him, mirroring his.

"I'll be back for you, soon," He promises, free hand coming to my jaw, the other still preoccupied with mine. His thumb rubbed over my jaw, pressing with a pressure that told me he didn't want to see this room empty when he returned.

"I'll be waiting," I sigh, leaning into his hand. He frowns.

"I'm sorry Fawn, but I doubt I'll be able to control myself with you so near," He shifts back to his usual self, the compassionate one.

"I understand, it's okay," I mumble, even if this was the last place I wanted to be during the holidays. He leans down and presses a yearning kiss onto my lips, the kind full of promise of what was to come later tonight.

He pulls away with a reluctance I immediately recognized. Whatever power that was going to consume him tonight was already forming, I could feel it through the bond like someone on his side of the tether was sparking embers.

"Don't leave this room." He warned one last time and all I could do was nod and then watch him leave.

I had never wanted to leave a room more in my entire life.

Eris forgot to put his shields up on his side of the bond and it was driving me fucking mad. I could feel the power of him, flowing through the very floorboards beneath my feet. His arousal was immense, or perhaps it was mine— I wasn't sure. Maybe being High Lady had its own effects, maybe it made the mated female just as willing to consummate with the High Lord. The intense heat running up and down my spine reminded me of when Eris and I had accepted the mating bond, The Frenzy that took over both of us full throttle, I had managed that because he had been so near at the time, it had only lasted a few moments before he was touching where I needed him most but this, with him so far, gods this was unbearable.

I looked out the window like an animal eagerly waiting for their owner to return, but I couldn't see anything beyond the maple trees, only the smoke of the bonfires and all that promised with it.

I leaned my forehead against the cold window, it relieved me for only a split second before the heat of my body returned.

It started less than an hour ago, bloomed right at my core, and has only grown since. It would reach my head soon and I don't know what I'd do at that point. I had already put the fire in the hearth out but it felt as if I was the furnace and embers were still popping against my bare skin that mistook me for kindling.

I had practically stripped to my socks, but even my undergarments had been too much to bear. I wore a silk slip with a lace trim that was lighter than a feather and softer than anything I had ever felt before but on my burning skin, it felt like a winter coat.

If the window was cold then outside must've been colder, autumn air sweeping over the continent and beckoning at my very window, who was I to keep it out?

I pushed the window open with a grunt in agony, the sweet feeling of the light breeze kissing against my skin practically made me crumble in relief.

I latch the window all the way open and lean my head out the sill, the sound of music and cheering in the distance suddenly became so prominent but it was hard to hear anything over the blood rushing to my ears, dizziness consuming me as I grip the ledge of the window, something buried deep inside of me yearned for him in the direction of the music, and now that my head was out the window my body seemed to think I was teasing it, what it wanted so much closer now that the line to the outside world was crossed, the feeling so intense I thought I might start coughing up blood.

I grunt, attempting to talk myself through the pain, telling myself repeatedly that I've endured worse, that I was stronger this, that Eris would be back any moment now and— and oh gods, Eris. It was a mistake to let him cross my mind because all of a sudden he consumed every thought I could conjure, my mind in his hands and he was gripping it, not willing to let go.

I decided I didn't give a fuck if Eris was mad if I left the house, the pain I was enduring was horrific and the only way to relieve it was to disobey exactly what he ordered me to do. Don't leave this room. I slipped out the window with gasps of pain, landing on the soft grass. I was just grateful to be located on the first floor, close enough to the ground to jump from without shattering the bones in my legs.

Hounds rush up towards me before I can even take my first step.

They looked as if they were about to bark, to alert their owner that I had left the house but they saw my desperation, hel, they probably smelt it.

Rivin, the eldest of the shadow hounds rushed up to me first, staring up at me with a cock of his head, clearly concerned for my well-being. "Can you take me to Eris?" I murmur, praying the dog can understand me, I bring my hand to his snout and he chuffs, licks the palm of my hand then takes off running towards the sounds of the music.

I tried to stay as close as I could to the dog, he had taken the route through trees and behind stands, which I was grateful for since it kept me out of sight, however, it made it a lot easier to lose him amongst the trees. But he always came trotting back after a minute without him in my sights.

Eventually, the dog stopped in his tracks, his front paws prancing at the floor and communicating that he had finished his job. I creased my brows and looked around my surroundings but before I could talk to the dog again he ran off with the rest of his pack, back towards the house.

I had only just realized that whatever heat that was suffocating me in the Forest House had dissipated, still lingering below the surface but no longer unbearable.

I huffed, unsure what to do in the middle of the forest with a feeding wretchedness in the pit of my stomach.

I decided on heading towards where the largest plume of smoke was coming from, I had seen the set up of Mabon hundreds of times and knew this was the way to the throne, knew Eris must be sat upon it.

I hadn't explored Mabon much during previous years, I was always a barmaid for my father's pub, it had gotten crazy business during the week of Mabon so he needed any help he could get, funnily enough, that's how I met Eris.

I shake my head at the memory, thinking about Eris was almost painful, it felt like something was being carved out of me every moment I was without him.

I seethed a string of curses as I continued my trudge through the trees, staying in the shadows and avoiding the eyes of any drunk wanderers. I doubted they'd recognize me as their high lady anyway, Eris was the only one who ever saw me outside of my gowns and robes, this lacy slip was practically lingerie compared to the heavy dresses I often wore.

Lucky for me it had blended in with the other girls perfectly, in fact, I had seemed more covered up than most. Once I had made it out into the open area I spotted Eris immediately. On the throne, as expected, his legs spread wide and I wanted nothing more than to put myself between them.

He was shirtless, forest green paint smeared onto his body in tribal patterns of lines and dots, but he was glistening in sweat, drops running down the side of his face, through the grove of his abdomen. I didn’t want to think about who had the honor of putting that paint into those very groves, I only wanted to think about being the one to wash it off.

Heat pooled in my stomach as his eyes found mine from across the way, my body went rigid as he trekked his gaze down it, then so slowly back up, taking in every bare inch as well as every clothed part of me, like he was wondering just how perfect I looked underneath.

My knees shook as he lifted his hand and with two fingers waved me over. Waves of heat wash over me at every step I take closer, the power that radiated off of him left me defenseless, and the pain I had experienced earlier subsided entirely in favor of morphing into arousal.

Once I reach the dais I curtsy with a playful smile. "I thought I asked you to stay inside?" He purred, his voice rougher than usual, making my legs tremble.

"I missed you," I shrug, attempting to keep my composure but he opened his side of the bond entirely as soon as I was done speaking and my knees buckled. So, much, power.

It surged at my fingertips, blazed down my spine, and coiled in my abdomen. I couldn't imagine how Eris felt if I was only receiving an influence of it.

"C'mere," He lifts his hips, readjusting them in his ornate throne and I almost choke on my own tongue. He was going to push me over that dangerous edge and he didn't even need to say anything to do it.

I take the steps up the dais and I realize the silence in the crowd save for the music, people were watching, and couldn't keep their eyes off of the two of us. The offering between High Lord and Lady, the melding bond between us so clear on a night like this that any outsider could see that golden tether just as well as he or I could.

"On my lap, Fawn," He glances down to his thigh and I swallow thickly. "Oh, don't tell me you've become shy all of the sudden?" He smirks at the idea. I had told him I was willing to let him fuck me in front of all these people— still was, and yet sitting on his lap was the line to the path that I wasn't sure I could come back from.

My coaxing arousal won the battle and I took my final steps toward him, closing that distance, his hand came to the back of my thigh and I nearly melted at his touch, my body quivering in reaction because gods, if I had felt like a kindling fire earlier then he was a fucking inferno.

His fingers singed with flames but I felt none of the added heat as I took my place on his lap, straddling over his thigh and wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him so close I wish I could've melted right into him, slotted myself into each of his grooves and stayed there, impossible to clean, impossible to get rid of.

My lips came to his neck without any forethought, I didn’t have control over my own mind, it was entirely consumed by him, his intoxicating scent of cinnamon, clove, and now an undertone of something different, something just as mouth-watering as the way his hands felt on my bare skin.

I fought the thoughts that told me to rip my dress off and decided to put my hands to better use and rub them down his chest, pressing my palm into his abdomen as I continued kissing his neck. I sucked and licked and nipped without caution, I didn't care if others were watching, he had never been more powerful than he was in this moment, both over others physically and over me mentally.

The domination running through his veins was attractive, so damned powerful and yet he knew how to control it, to conceal it beneath his skin rather than flaunt it, and he shared a fraction of it with me, a simple kernel of it was enough to send me spiraling.

"What are you doing? Dance," Eris spits at his subjects and they immediately do as he says, the music picking up in a crescendo of rushed notes to meet his demand.

I smiled against his shoulder at how much authority he held, my hips involuntarily winding over his thigh and I let out a soft, pleasurable sound. He grunts in return.

"If you keep making those sounds we're not going to make it back to our bedroom," He warns lowly beside my ear and I rut my hips again at the perfect sound.

"I don't know what's wrong— fuck," I'm cut off by my soft moan, his muscled thigh providing just the right amount of friction against my clit. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I need you to fuck me now," I plead and I sense a sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now?" He hums and I can hear the smirk in his voice. Damned bastard. "In front of all these people?" He intones and I nod helplessly.

"However you want me, wherever, just— gods do it now," I beg, continuing to wind my hips over his thigh.

His foxlike smirk doesn't falter as his hands grip my hips, halting my needy movements only to guide me down onto his thigh himself, my core aching as he does so. I cry out at the feeling, it shouldn't have felt this good, it's never been this intense, even when our mating bond clicked I hadn't been so consumed by his fire that was so dangerously out of control and feeding into my own.

"I need you inside of me," I murmur, coming to the conclusion that this torment will not subside until he finds release inside of me, the mother herself was impelling us to consummate, to breed, and I was more than willing to oblige for her.

"Eris," I grip at his shoulder, paint smearing onto my hands, soiling my nightgown. But I didn't care, any piece of him spreading onto me felt like it was a gift from the gods, and I needed more. "Please, fill me," I beg into the warmth of his neck.

"You want me to come inside you? Want these people to watch while I give you an heir?" He taunts, his words ghosting against the shell of my ear. I reply with a pitiful whimper, unsure what to retort with because he was right. I didn't care who was watching, as long as they knew I was his and he was mine.

"Yes," I pant, my hand coming to the back of his neck. "That's exactly what I want," I plead, the rutting of my hips not slowing for a moment. "Show them I'm yours,"

My words seemed to push him over that fine line and he had obeyed. His rough hands grip my waist, pulling me over his hips so I was no longer straddling his thigh but rather angled just above his cock that was strained in his pants, the confinement so tight it almost seemed painful.

“Yeah?” He hummed and I nodded helplessly. “You want everyone to hear just how pretty your moans are when you’re sitting on my cock?” He asked and I whimpered, feeling powerless under his stare. Whatever heat that had been affecting me tonight had doubled over with his arousing words.

“I can’t be gentle with you right now,” He gritted through clenched teeth, the tip of his nose drawing a line up the side of my throat. “Can’t, control myself right now,” He murmured in warning and I smiled at the idea of having an effect on him as much as he did on me.

“I don’t want control,” I sigh against the side of his neck. “I need you now controlled or not, so please, Eris fuck me,” I begged and with one last kiss to my neck he obliged.

With an expert hand, he tore my underwear right from my hips, pulling the lace off like it was nothing. My heat was now left bare but it didn’t stop me from grinding down onto his bulge. I was staining his pants with my slick, dripping down onto him and he groaned as my wetness seeped through the material.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” He admired and I nodded with purely innocent eyes, the kind that silently pleaded for him to fill me until he was satiated.

All I felt was hunger, and I could tell by the way flames alighted in his gaze that he felt it too.

Quickly, he removed his leathers and his cock springs up, smacking against my soaked folds, my pussy leaking over his length. The heat between us must’ve been record-breaking, I felt like a candle burning all too fast, making a mess of wax that he was too slow to clean.

The moment I felt his tip prod at my entrance my nails dug into his shoulder. I still didn’t know what it was that was wrong with me, I had never experienced an ache quite like this, the kind that only he could patch over.

“Please,” I cry, my cunt weeping as I crave for him to sink his length into me. “Show them how good you fuck me,” I mewl and perhaps it was the taboo factor of it all, how thrilling it was to have an audience while I rode him, but that had been his breaking point before he gripped the tops of my thighs and pushed me down onto his length.

My breath catches in my throat as I stretch around him, around every inch of him. He was so very large, and on any other night he’d need to fuck me with his fingers first, make sure I was ready for his member without the pain, but tonight we are both so needy that any foreplay was thrown out the window the moment I left our bedroom.

The pain was disguised as pleasure as he helped guide me lower onto him, it hadn’t been unbearable since I was slick with a natural lubricant, my arousal dripping down my thighs and onto his, as I took him deeper and deeper.

I swore he met places he’s never touched before, and fuck was it more than anything I had ever wanted.

This feeling was the god ecstasy prayed to, and I was blessed by it.

“That’s it, just like that, fuck yourself on my cock Fawn,” He encourages and I gasp out my moan, finally reaching his base, pressing against it with mine.

“Your court is watching, give ‘em a show for me,” He purrs, and so I do exactly that.

I begin to lift on his length, my knees buckling at the action but I ignore the pain and favor it for the pleasure as I drop down onto him, wielding gravity as my weapon. He lets out a low grunt and I do it again, continuing the action over and over again, bouncing on his cock just like he asked.

“Fuck, so good for me,” He praised, his eyes blazing with an untamable fire. “Such a good girl,” He sighs, his head craning back, leaning into his golden throne as his hands slip beneath my nightgown.

He didn’t take the dress off, because there were simply just some things he refused to let anyone else see, and though I was getting off on having an audience he wasn’t going to let everyone else get off on it too. He grips my hips tightly from beneath the slip, his callouses scraping against my soft skin, burning it with an unyielding pain, the kind that brings pleasure with it.

His cock seemed just as hot as I continued to fuck myself on it, the vein on the underside pulsing so feverishly I could feel it. The head of him pressed right into that sweet spot and it was a miracle I hadn’t come yet, gods he was going to send me over that edge any second now.

My lips connect with his, and he responds to the familiar feeling on instinct, his tongue slipping beneath my lips and tasting every fraction of me he can get his mouth on.

I moan onto his tongue every time he presses that deep spot inside of me, my noises only adding to the sound of skin slapping and the lewd sound of my pussy taking every inch of him. Our own music drowned out the symphony playing for the others.

“Eris, I can’t,” I pant against his lips. “I’m gonna come,” I warn and he smirks.

“So soon?” He taunts and I nod pitifully, continuing to rut my hips over his.

“Please, it hurts,” I whine, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. And it did hurt, it hurt to not be granted that release I craved so desperately.

“Go ahead, make a mess all over my lap,” He allows and I would’ve wept at the words if my orgasm hadn’t consumed me first.

It felt like pure fire, setting me aflame and impossible to control. It was the kind of climax that lingered for hours on end, the kind that left my legs jolting and my eyes struggling to open. I let out a loud moan, so loud that if the dancing fae hadn’t known what had been happening, they did now. “You did so well baby,” He hums as I slowly come down from my high but I don’t have the strength to lift off his cock, and I definitely didn’t have the willpower to continue my movements. My thighs were burning and I hadn’t noticed until my climax settled.

“You done?” He coos and I nod, but the tone of his voice tells me it is him who is nowhere near finished with me, his member still hard inside of me evidence of that.

He didn’t warn me before he winnowed us back to the Forest House, the same position except he was no longer sitting on the throne but rather our bed.

I whine, falling limp against his shoulder. “I can’t take anymore, Eris,” I sigh and he shakes his head.

“Oh, no baby you said you wanted an heir and I’m going to give one to you.” He flipped us over so I was splayed out on my back, sinking into the mattress with my legs hooked around him.

“Eris I’m not on a tonic— fuck,” I try but he felt so much deeper in this position.

“Does it feel like I care?” He sighs into my hair and I shake my head no. “That’s right, now be a good girl and stay true to your word,” He demanded and I swallowed thickly, nodding while he lifted one of my legs up to hook on his shoulder, spreading my legs wide as I clamped down onto him.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pretty pussy, squeezing me so tight,” He grunted and I lost all cohesive thoughts, strings of moans escaped me as he rolled his hips down onto mine, his full balls slapping against my folds as his pace quickened.

“More,” I plead.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you don’t you?” He says and I was quick to show my agreement by squeezing around him tighter. “You just can’t wait to have my babes, isn’t that right?” He grunted into the shell of my ear and I nodded with a hum of restless accord. “Your tits are gonna be so fucking swollen,” He sighs and I clench around him at his dirty words. “You like that?” He kisses up my neck.

“Mhm, want your seed in me, Eris,” I whine and he twitches, a sign he’s nearing his climax.

I was hungry for his warm release, ached for it to fill my every crevice, let it seep into my womb.

I met his thrusts with my own sudden desire, sending my hips down onto him while he drove his cock right into that spongy bundle of nerves.

“I’m close,” He grunts.

“Me too,” I whimper, my legs locking up as my orgasm races to meet me.

My hands go into his hair and I pull at his short locks as my second climax finds me and I’m squeezing around him tighter than ever before. My walls flutter around him, and my pussy twitched as he continues his fast pace. He groans at the intense convulsions around him and suddenly his release is spurring out into me, kissing my cervix as he does so, his seed shooting out on a straight path to my womb.

“Fuck,” He sighed while guiding my leg down from his shoulder, and with a few more languid, slow strokes of his cock he finishes, slipping from my heat and falling down onto the bed beside me, both of us out of breath and settling over the action we had just committed to.

I clench my thighs shut, keeping his warm seed nestled inside of me. “Good?” I ask and he flips onto his side, arm slinging over my sweat-slicked body, pulling me into him.

“So good.” He presses kisses to the top of my head and I flip around to face him, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“I think I like this High Lord stuff,” I say, my hand coming to his cheek and he chuckles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“I think so too,” He whispered against my mouth, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” He sat up, pulling me with him and I groaned. “You can sleep after, I promise, Fawn,” He said with a gentle tone that rivaled his earlier rough grunts.

“Eris please, just lay with me for a few more minutes,” I huff stubbornly and he shakes his head, hauling me from the bed and taking me to the connected bathroom.

“I’ll lay by you all night after I clean you up. Sound like a deal?” He says, settling me down onto the cold counter that sent shivers up my spine and I lazily nodded, looking up at him. He grins and leans closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you,” He whispers and I match his smile.

“Love you too, Eris.” I look up at him with only honesty in my gaze. “Now hurry up, I’m tired,” I grumbled and he chuckled.

“Alright, alright.” He shakes his head in disbelief, wetting a cloth with warm water before beginning to clean me up, treating me with utter tenderness after he gave me the two best orgasms of my life. This male was going to be the death of me, and I was going to love every moment of it until that day.

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[strawberrystepmom]

umemiya x f!reader. reader is wearing a bathing suit. established relationship, very suggestive, mentions of marriage. | divider thanks to cafekitsune like always, wc 1k even.

The haze of summer has settled thickly over all of Makochi, the air almost heavy enough to wrap around you and wear it. A subtle sheen of humidity settles over your shoulders and face; cicadas sing their song in the distance and wind chimes tinkle when a breeze mercifully blows by to cool your heated skin. The heat can’t prevent you from being outside, though. You lie on your belly beneath the blazing sun in your stringiest bikini, legs stretched out behind you while Hajime cares for his personal garden - the one meant just for the two of you - atop his apartment building. He hums a little tune, occasionally throwing in a whistle for good measure to make you giggle at him while your cheek rests against your folded arms, watching his every move.

It didn’t feel so hot about fifteen minutes ago but now that you’re watching sweat dampen the back of his white t-shirt and cling to his body, you sigh dramatically and he’s at your side in an instant, ever in tune with whatever you need.

“What’s wrong?”

You glance up at him and smile, unfolding your arms and stretching them above your head, flipping from your belly onto your back to give him a view of the front of you, gentle grooves in your skin when you shift from how tightly your bathing suit is secured around you. He doesn’t hide his ogling, raking steel blue eyes from your throat to your belly button and to your thighs, wiping his hairline with his forearm.

“Wanna use those broad shoulders to block the sun for me for a few minutes?”

Hajime smiles and nods wordlessly at your request, taking a few big steps to the left to block the sun from getting in your eyes, casting a tall and cool shadow over your upper body. He wipes his hands together to free them of any dirt or grime from the plants, twisting his body to point them in the opposite direction of where you lie across a large old sheet, your sandals pinning down opposite corners to keep the breeze from blowing it up. Removing one of his gloves, he pops it in his pocket and reaches down to press his palm against your skin, hissing through his teeth.

“Hot even for you.” He raises a brow, wrapping up his perpetual fussing over you in humor to prevent you from insisting that he does too much. “You really do need shade, huh? Poor thing.”

“My hero.” You nod, putting a smile on his face. 

Umemiya sinks down, kneeling beside you and changing his shadow so that it covers even more of you, your thighs now cooled by the shade provided by his size. He drags his palm from your waist upward toward the triangles of your top, slipping a finger beneath the tiny string stretched across your sternum.

“Do you want to go inside?”

Glancing up at him, you bite back a smile and shake your head, his finger still gently toying with your top. You reach out to toy with him now, gently tugging at the damp collar of his shirt, dragging your palm down his chest.

“No, I wanna be out here with you. You’re hot too, we can suffer together.”

Neither of you are suffering very badly if the way each of you is glancing at the other is any indication of what's really happening here, eyes half lidded, fingers itching to explore sweat slicked skin. Hajime wants to spring into action and plan a way to grow an entire canopy over the roof to ensure you are never uncomfortable but he’s a little distracted at the moment, your hand sliding further down his torso and beneath the hemline of his shirt to rest against his warm skin and hardened muscle.

“What are you up to?” He asks with a smile. He drops from his squat position to sitting next to you, legs spread while he leans down to kiss your lips gently, as sweet as the breeze that ruffles the ends of his hair. “Besides making sure I get nothing done today.”

Giggling, you kiss him back. One set of fingers thread through his hair, brushing it back from his face in the style he prefers and the other drags down his torso toward the waistband of his shorts, playfully tickling him along the way.

“You just make the best umbrella.” You crane your neck to kiss him again, hand settling around the back of his neck to keep him close to you. “Maybe that should be your new name, Hajime Umbrella.” He chuckles and moves closer to you, lowering himself until his arms cage either side of you, his body twisted to hover slightly above yours.

“Then you’d just be Mrs. Umbrella someday but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

You wiggle beneath him at the insinuation that you’ll be carrying his last name, something even warmer than today’s temperature pooling beneath your skin. Umemiya laughs and leans in to kiss you again, foregoing any sense of decorum to slowly slide his body over the top of yours. His thighs join his arms in caging you in, pinned to the sheet beneath your back, the sound of distant wind chimes carrying across the cloudless sky to mingle with your giggles.

“Come on Mrs. Umbrella,” he jokes again, sliding his hand up your side. “Let’s work out here a little longer and then we can go inside, alright?”

Your back arches in response to his touch. He takes advantage of the position, reaching into the small space between your back and the sheet to untie your top. He doesn’t immediately move it to expose you, allowing you to make that decision for yourself. 

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

You grin up at him until he envelops you in a sultry kiss, one that truly matches this summer heat, helping him remove his sweaty shirt an arm at a time and tossing it aside. 

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: alcohol, smoking, thirst, flirting? Daryl (yes, he's a warning and OOC), suggestive smut? brief mention of an accident and loss of parents

Word Count: almost 2.5k

a/n: Enjoy the kick-off into my new series! 🍾 I hope you're gonna love this as much as I do! 🙏🏼

Also, we got a few guest appearances of some familiar faces...

《M a s t e r l i s t》

《 Chapter Two 》

Chapter One...

... in which you stumble upon a handsome biker - twice - and discover a new side of yourself.

《 musical inspiration 》

I recommend listening to this song before you read this chapter - if you wish.

Get your motor runnin'

Head out on the highway

Lookin' for adventure

'Born To Be Wild' by Steppenwolf

Life on a ranch wasn't always easy.

Life on a ranch a day after a storm, which caused a lot of damage, was even less easy. It honestly sucked – at least that was what you thought. The whole day after was only spent with getting things right again, cleaning up, clearing fallen trees out of the way, mostly fixing fences, and catching eloped cattle and horses. It was exhausting and incredibly tiring. But once all the work was done, you often found yourself on a ride out with your palomino Mustang stallion Arrow in order to take some time off and relax. Just like on this pleasant Saturday in spring...

The surprisingly pleasant warm Montana sun was shining down on you, as you rode down the mostly untrafficked road; past endless meadows and fields - always following the Yellowstone River. It was quiet and peaceful; all you could hear were the sounds of nature and the click-clacking of Arrow's hooves - until a rather disturbing... noise cut through the air and urging to your ears.

Motorcycles.

It was a rare thing that even cars drove down that road; trucks even less and now bikes? You scrunched your nose and gently guided Arrow to leave the road and continue the journey through the meadow.

The sounds of engines got closer and closer, until you saw about five or six bikes pulling up beside you in the corner of your eyes.

Must be a biker group or something...

They slowed down; almost coming to an halt beside you. "Hey!" A voice called suddenly out, causing you to stop Arrow in his movements and look to your left. One of the bikers had pulled off his sunglasses and was looking up at you; both feet planted firmly on the ground beneath him. Muscular arms led to gloved hands, which held on tightly to the handle grip; sunglasses dangling between deft fingers.

You adjusted the cowboy hat on your head; looking down to meet the man's - admittedly - stunning blue-grey eyes.

"Uh, hey," you called back. "Can I help you guys out?" The biker nodded. "Hope so. We got a lil' lost on our way," he explained in a very thick southern accent; voice a little muffled by his black helmet. You shrugged your shoulders; smiling. "Well, I can try. Where were you guys heading?" "Planned ta go to Billings, but kinda landed 'ere." You nodded; still smiling. "Ah, I see. Should've took route 94. This one won't lead you to much. You need to circle back and drive past Miles City."

The man - most likely leader of the biker group nodded. "How far from 'ere ta Billings?" "About 140 miles. If you're lucky, you can make it in two and a half hours." "A'right," the man nodded and put on his sunglasses again. "Thank ya." You gave him another smile. "No problem."

He gave you a last look, before he revved the engine of his bike and signalled his group to circle back. They followed his command and off they went. Your gaze followed them for a moment, before you gently nudged Arrow's sides. "C'mon, buddy. Let's head home. It's almost time for dinner."

You and Arrow made your way back to the Willow Creek ranch - owned and run by your aunt and uncle. Having lost both your parents when you were small due to a car accident, you and your older sister - Tess grew up on the ranch and were working there. Well, Tess longer than you; given the fact that you finished college not that long ago.

After taking care of your animal best friend, you joined your family for dinner.

"You coming later with me, sis?" You swallowed down the remaining food in your mouth and looked over to your big sister. "Where to?" She rolled her eyes in return, but smiled. "You know where, Y/N..." You sighed; poking around in your peas. "Tess... How often have I told you that-" "This isn't your thing, I know... But you have to try it first, right? How can you say you don't like it, if you never tried?"

You grumbled under your breath. Unfortunately, was Tess right.

"Yes, you should really accompany your sister, Y/N," acknowledged your aunt suddenly; agreeing with her. "You barely leave the ranch, honey. It will do you good." You sighed, but for the first time gave in; tired of all the constant discussions. "Alright, fine. I'll go with you - but if I don't like it, I'll leave immediately!" "Yess!" Your sister cheered. "You'll love it, I promise - but yeah, fine." You scoffed. "We'll see about that."

Partying and alcohol had never been one of your high interests and certainly not on your bucket list - yet, here you were standing now in front of the best bar in Miles City - according to your sister; located at the outskirts of the city... 'The Rowdy Racoon'.

You sighed; eyes directed at the building, while Tess just giggled. "I can't believe I'm doing this..." You moaned; already regretting your decision. Your sister was quick to grab your hand, "C'mon, sis... Loosen up a little and have some fun! It's Saturday night, for God's sake!" before you were able to cop out. You groaned again, but let yourself get dragged towards the entrance of the bar; past several vehicles and over the large porch, on which several men and women stood with drinks and cigarettes in hands; talking, laughing and having fun.

Loud music urged to your ears as you stepped inside. 'Born To Be Wild' by Steppenwolf - and just in that very moment, you felt like there wasn't a more fitting song on this whole planet for the scenery you walked in...

The bar was almost filled to the brim with people. Some of them were sitting at the large counter in the middle. Others were seated on some tables all around the big room. The rest of them was dancing, playing pool or tried their luck at the Pinball machines. It was loud, wild and crazy.

You hadn't even the chance to look fully around, since your sister dragged you further on to the bar counter. "Time for a drink, sis!" She announced in a sing-song voice; ordering two Whiskey Cola's. "We'll start slow," Tess said with a smirk; handing you the glass. You gave her a small smile. "Thanks." She clinked her glass against yours and took a sip. "Here's to an awesome night!"

Your sister's so-called 'awesome' night started surprisingly good - like you had to admit. Sure, you had to get a little comfortable first and getting used to being at a bar; warm up a little, but at some point it was really okay. Unfortunately, though, the tables turned after an mere hour. Friends of Tess had decided to come around as well and in the end, you sat alone at the counter on the bar stool; staring at your almost empty glass of Whiskey Cola.

This definitely wasn't how it was supposed to go... Not at all. It caused your mood to drop, of course; feeling alone and kinda betrayed. Tess invited you; took you here and now she had run off with her friends. You couldn't even leave, because you took Tess' car and she had the keys and certainly wouldn't let you drive. Great...

You sighed; turning the now empty glass in front of you in a circle, until...

"Thought I wouldn't see ya again, 'n certainly not 'ere," a familiar voice suddenly urged to your ears from behind you. You frowned and turned in your bar stool, only to meet the same blue-grey eyes you gazed into earlier this evening. It was the biker - but this time, he wasn't wearing a helmet. Chestnut brown hair reached in soft waves his shoulders; paired with a black baseball cap he wore backwards on his head. His chin and a little bit of his cheeks were covered in a slightly grey goatee, which fitted him perfectly.

You swallowed; couldn't help but to stare at him for a moment. He was downright attractive.

"Y-Yeah, uh, same," you stammered out, but quickly got your shit together again. "Didn't find your way to Billings yet?" The stranger chuckled and shook his head. "Nah. We decided ta spend the night in Miles City 'n head for Billings tomorrow." You nodded; smiling politely. "Wise decision." "Yeah," the man said and lifted his hand to scratch his beardy chin as if in a thinking manner. You noticed the tattoo on the back of his hand... A skull and... stars? Then he nodded at your empty glass. "You gonna let me buy ya a drink? Some credit fer ya help earlier. 'S the least I can do. 'Nother Whiskey Cola?"

You felt a slight blush on your cheeks. "Um, yeah, thanks." He gave the bartender a sign, who immediately worked to replace your empty glass with a full glass. "I have ta thank you," he answered; then looked behind at a bar table to where a few other people sat. His group, you thought. "Wanna join us? Ya seem a lil' lonely." You giggled dryly. "Yeah, my sister dumped me for her friends." You gestured at the dance floor; the biker's eyes following. "Kinda rude if ya ask me... C'mon, join us."

You swallowed; hesitating for a moment. You were a cautious person. After all you didn't know these people.

The man could seemingly read your mind. "They ain't bitin', I swear. All of 'em are very nice." "I-I, uh... I don't even know your name." He smiled crookedly, "'M Daryl." and walked towards his group again. Only now did you notice what he was wearing... Dark, slightly ragged jeans with a red rug stuffed in the left back pocket, a black, washed-out shirt and a angel-winged vest. Leather, as it seemed. Admittedly, you had a really hard time not to stare.

You hesitated for another few seconds and threw a look over to your sister again as well; noticing that she was still completely ignoring you and instead partied with her friends. Therefore, was your decision made. You slid off the bar stool and made your way over to Daryl and his gang.

An hour and another Whiskey Cola later, you had learned that they were indeed a biker group - from Georgia - making a road trip through America. You got to know the whole group as well, of course. There was Rick and Carol, which were Daryl's best friends. Glenn and Maggie - a young, kind couple living on a farm had joined the gang as well, just like Negan - a slightly annoying, but funny gym teacher. It was a crazy, but also perfect mix - and they all shared one passion... Motorcycles.

For an absolute non-expert in this new territory, you were absolutely fascinated. The stories they told you; the things you learned - it was fun and exciting.

Daryl and Negan invited you to a round of pool then; Rick and Maggie joining in as well. It was the best evening you had in a long while - but when the alcohol you had consumed slowly started to course through your veins and the music and chatter of the people became suddenly so very loud, you knew you needed a break. You were definitely not quite used to this, after all.

Stepping out of the bar and onto the porch, you took a deep breath; inhaling the fresh, chilly night air.

Yeah, the alcohol was present. You definitely felt a bit tipsy, but you were still fully aware of your words and actions, which was a good thing - and a stop sign you didn't plan to ignore.

"Ya good?" There it was again. That voice out of nowhere. His voice.

You looked to your left; seeing Daryl casually leaning against the railing with a cigarette dangling between his lips.

You nodded. "Yeah, just needed a break and some fresh air." The man took a deep drag; puffing out a cloud of smoke mere seconds later. Your eyes were still fixated on him - and you swallowed.

Hot... Why was that so hot? Him smoking?

"Me too. Needed a smoke." Daryl took another drag and stepped closer; hand fumbling in his trouser pocket. "Want one?" He asked then; fishing out a slightly squashed box of cigarettes and holding it out to you. "Um, I, uh..." You stammered; cheeks already turning red. "I dunno." "Ya ever had one?" You shook your head; biting your lip. The biker stepped even closer to you then; his body barely inches away from touching yours. "Ya wanna try?" Daryl took another drag, then held his cigarette in front of your face.

Hesitatingly, you leaned forward and took the little mouthpiece between your lips to take a drag. Feeling the smoke fill your lungs, you immediately started to cough and back up. A small smirk tugged at the corners of Daryl's mouth as he watched you; taking the cigarette back between his lips. "'S a normal reaction. Once you'll get used ta it, it won't happen again."

A short moment of silence passed, while you replaced the smoke in your lungs with fresh air and Daryl's eyes travelling up and down your body.

"Hey, uh, ya wanna get outta 'ere?" The man opposite you boldly asked with a charming smile; hands grasping the wooden beam above him. It caused the black shirt he wore to ride up and reveal some skin of his stomach; alongside a dark patch of fine silken hair.

For the second time this evening, you had a hard time not to stare and instead to focus on his question - which left you just as breathless; given the fact that you knew exactly what he insisted.

Before your brain was even able to ponder thoroughly over his question, your mouth answered with a quick, determined 'Yes' - which kinda shocked you yourself. Usually you weren't the one who gave in so easily and willingly to a one-night-stand with a 'stranger'; and yet here you were. Was the way he made you feel the reason? Or was it his kind, flirty and charming personality? Perhaps it even was his good looks. You didn't know; couldn't put a finger on it. All you knew was that he attracted you like a damn magnet. You weren't thinking about your sister or the others in that moment. The tall, handsome biker with his rough redneck edges was all you had in mind.

Daryl's smile widened at your consent. He took a last drag of his cigarette, before he stubbed it out in the little ashtray on the railing. "C'mon." The man walked past you, down the few steps and towards his bike.

Elegantly swinging one leg over to sit down on the vehicle, he replaced his baseball cap with his helmet. His fingers worked to start the engine. "You comin' or wha'?"

Tags: @dixons-sunshine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @rh1nestonecowg1rl @mischief-dream @noldorinlady @imadisneyprincessiswear @fictive-sl0th @jbbsizzler @loz-3 @erebus-et-eigengrau @i93jjk @belitoxx @charlottewatkinsblog @coleigh-1205-blog @li-da-savage @chaoticevilbakugo

Tagging you other guys from my Daryl taglist as well, just in case you missed the teaser...

@marvelcasey05 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @mayday2007 @cakesandtom

If you want to be removed or added from/to the taglist, please let me know! 🤗

[lovingjingyuan]

Aventurine x reader

Warning: +18, Sweet kind sex

Aventurine

Who is so smooth with his words while leaving soft kisses on your skin as he pushes his fingers inside of you earning delicate gasps and moans from your pretty lips. The way his lips would linger on your skin every momentarily. Every idiom that left his lips was gentle, lighthearted and affectionate.

“You really are squeezing my finger mh? Proves to me: how much you indulge in this,” he moaned as he pressed more tender kisses on your neck and curled his fingers, pressing in and out at your warmth.

His face softs at your expression as he bats his eyes over at yours. His heart fluttered like a butterfly gaining its first wings. Everytime he looks over at your face it is love at first sight all over again.

“Kakavasha.”

His heart burst like flowers blooming in the spring. The muscles in his mouth curves to a smile. His eyes falter to your words.

He taunts you by gently bopping your nose as you ask for more, “Aren’t you greedy? Can’t get enough of me, mh? Am I that hard to resist?”

In his heart, you were the most alluring art that he was blessed with. His heart plays a beautiful melody in your presence. He couldn’t help but indulge his lips against yours, relishing this as it was his last. This every amorous moment felt warm and inviting.

With his finger still moist with your wet slick, he pushes you deeper into the mattress, snaking his hands beneath your legs. His lips trail up your thighs, planting soft kisses against the skin. He bats his lashes, observing your frame relaxing in his tender touch.

“Do you know the most cherishable prize I’ve won from all my gambles?”

“Mh?”

“You.”

He truly felt content.

____

Divider credit: floragfx

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 16: First Signs of Spring

Mushy May put together by the lovely @forlorn-crows <3

During the last days of Mountain's annual hibernation, Aurora and Aeon join him in his nest for a nap. No warnings, 700 words.

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

It’s finally warm enough to leave the windows open in the mornings. It makes the air delightfully chilly, and Aurora and Aeon snuggle happily into the blankets of Mountain’s nest. He’s been in and out of a deep sleep for months, but before he’d gone down, he’d taken the two of them aside, their first winter with the pack.

“I will sleep until the earth wakes up in the spring,” he’d told them, trying not to worry them. “I’ll get up to eat and drink and all that, but I’ll be out of it. But you two will be welcome in my nest, if you want to join me, as the rest of the pack is welcome.”

“That’d be an honor,” Aeon’d whispered. They know just how important an earth ghoul’s nest is, deeply territorial, and to allow others inside is something else. Aurora’d echoed the sentiment, leaning against him.

The winter had been long, and true to his word, Mountain had slept through most of it. Tucked under several blankets, surrounded by pillows and pieces of his packmates’ clothing. His room is dim and warm, and Aeon and Aurora have taken him up on his offer dozens of times.

Now, with the snow starting to melt, and the curtains fluttering softly on the breeze from the open window, Aurora and Aeon slip under the covers, settling with one of them at each of Mountain’s sides.

The cool air nips at Aurora’s nose, and she’d duck under the blankets if the air at her very core didn’t sing for it. She breathes it in, smells the very faintest hint of green. Plants coming up from the soil into a warming world that’s ready for them.

Aeon can feel it too, the quintessence that binds every living thing together. Can feel the energy beginning to stir as the sun stays out for longer and longer every day. Can feel the way that Mountain’s sluggish magic starts to stir behind his ribs.

“Miss you, Mount,” Aurora whispers. Aeon moves to hush her, but the giant doesn’t stir. He hasn’t every time they’ve spoken in his nest. “Spring’s comin’. Any day now. Can’t wait to see you again.”

Aeon chuffs, rubbing their cheek against the scruff on Mountain’s jaw. “Miss you too,” they whisper. The sound of the wind moving through the trees surrounding the abbey filters in through the open window.

“I’m willin’ to bet Aether and Dew’ll be in again tonight to kick us out,” Aurora keeps talking, watching Mountain’s face. He’s more relaxed and soft than he ever is when he’s awake. It’s not that he’s tense or stern the rest of the year, but there’s something worn that Mountain’s worn around his eyes and the curve of his lips for as long as Aeon and Aurora’ve known him. “They really like sleeping in here, with you.”

There’s movement behind Mountain’s eyelids, and Aeon takes a moment to wonder what he’s dreaming about. They could, of course, find out for themself. Quintessence is a powerful thing. But they’d rather not intrude on Mountain’s dreamscape right now. Wants him to rest and sleep so he’s ready for when spring truly begins.

The three of them settle back into an easy silence, drifting in and out of sleep. There is nowhere they’re needed right now, and Aurora rests her ear on Mountain’s sternum, listening to the slow, syrupy rhythm of the biggest ghoul’s heart.

She kicks up into a quiet purr, the force of it rumbling softly in her throat.

Aeon nestles in closer to Mountain’s side, mismatched eyes drifting shut. For a moment, it looks like they’ve fallen asleep.

Their good ear twitches, and they jolt upright, shoving the blankets down with the abruptness of their movements. “Hey, careful!” Aurora hisses, reaching out to grab their arm.

“No, wait, Rory, listen,” they breathe, eyes wide. “Can you hear it?”

Aurora’s brow furrows as she strains to hear whatever Aeon’s heard. And then it hits her, the soft chatter of songbirds. They’re not close to the window, but the sound is unmistakable.

It makes something in the very core of herself feel lighter, somehow. Something immaterial easing. Making each breath a little easier.

“They’re back,” she breathes, not quite sure if she’s talking to Aeon, herself, or the sleeping giant she lays with. “Spring’s coming.”

Aeon beams and settles back down into the nest. “Spring’s coming.”

[libbythatcherssecretgf]

Pocket Sized Comfort

Lilia Calderu x Fem! Reader

——————————————————————————-

Synopsis: You are a witch with the ability to shrink yourself to as small as you want. You need comfort from Lilia so much it almost hurts.

Word Count: 2.0k~

Content Warning: thanatophobia, anxiety, Fluff, boobs (but not sexual).

Tags: @ahsfan05 @grifffins @kenzie-floops @multixfan @imorynn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @renyfisher @alittlewitchyone @madamspellmans-met-tet

Notes: Inspired by the studio Ghibli movie “The secret world of Arrietty.” I’m also very touched starved, and my main love language is touch. So you get this. 💋 word translations & outfit references will be at the bottom

——————————————————————————

It was a chilly spring morning, fog in the air and dew left on the grass. Coming from the chimneys was thick black smoke, blowing with the wind. The remnants of the wood burning to warm all the homes of families tucked away in their beds. Much to early for regular working class adults, and children waiting to go to school to be up for the day. Yet you stir, a chill running up your spine.

Pulling the blanket tightly over your shoulders, you shiver and reach for Lilia. Her side of the bed lie cold, the covers back in place. Like she hadn’t been there when you went to sleep a couple hours prior. With a sigh, you rub yours eyes. Sitting up, and immediately rubbing your arms to try and warm yourself up. The bedroom window was open, figures. Lilia loves these chilly mornings, she says her tea is the best when she’s a little cold.

After a good yawn and stretch. You throw the covers off yourself, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Toeing your bunny slippers on, and snatching your robe quickly off the bed post. Sliding it on with ease, and tying the robe around your waist. It was a old robe of Lilia’s, having mismatched squares of fabrics from when it would get a tear. Lilia hated that you loved it so much, she found it to be embarrassing. She hated how poor her financial situation had been when you both first met. Not that it was much better now, but you weren’t thousands of dollars in debt anymore So neither of you were going to complain.

The sound of the kettle whistling that shrilling sound. Singled that Lilia was in the kitchen, most likely sewing at the kitchen table, while nursing her 3rd or 4th cup of tea. She’d always been an early morning person, being up before dawn like clock work. It drove you mad at times, because you’d much rather wake up cuddled into her so tightly it almost hurts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sliding the room divider that you bought at the flea market open, you smile when you’re met with a smile from Lilia. She was in her deep green silk robe, with silver lacing on the trims. A Valentine’s Day gift from you to her a couple years back. Her salt a pepper curls hanging loosely against her shoulders, and her face bare of her usual makeup. She looked beautiful, and most importantly warm. It was steamy in the kitchen, and the warm glow of the sunlight streaming through the white lace curtains made her glow like an Angel.

“Good Morning, Amuri Miu.”

Lilia’s voice helps to wake you, while you greet her with a tender kiss to the lips. She lets out a raspy moan, muffled against your lips. Her hand full of rings, curved around your back. When you break the kiss, it’s immediately followed by nuzzling your face into her neck. Feeling her soft, thin skin against your cheek.

“Comu durmìsti? Vuliti lu tè?”

Your response to her questions is a simple grunt, it’s sounded like a whine. You were feeling unusually uneasy, and your skin hurt. Holding onto her, smelling her perfume and the tangy scent of her sweat. It was a comfort that you had grown all to used to. So much so, that a couple days apart might as well been considered torture.

“I slept good, but I am still tired.”

You finally answer after you’ve spent more then a couple minutes just letting Lilia hold you her hand gently rubbing your back, while her other one was moving your hair away from your neck. The coolness of her multitude of her rings felt searing against your skin. However, in a very good way, it made you feel awake, alive, comforted. In moments where your mind felt disconnected from your body, Lilia was grounding. She made you feel real, like you weren’t just floating around in life.

Although there was an ache in your bones, that reached deep into your soul. You didn’t feel complete in the moment, your entire being craving another leave of closeness with the woman you considered to be your whole world. Wanting to merge your bodies completely, you’re veins tangling together. Hearts pulsing together, as your very earthly bodies live & die together.

The breathing of her warm breathes against you neck made the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up like you’d been struck with lightning. Her soft lips pressing soothing kisses lightly against the sensitive skin of your neck. Giving you silent reassurance that she’s here, she’s got you. But that wasn’t enough, in this moment. You needed to be enveloped in the warmth of her body entirely.

“My darling girl, what’s the matter?”

Lilia’s voice is gentle, with a twinge of worry seeping through. Her fingers continuing to play with the strands of your hair. You can feel her gaze so fervent that you can feel it physically. She was worried, she always worried.

“You’re not close enough.”

Your voice sounds embarrassingly small, you feel exposed, like a small child. You couldn’t help it though, you were terrified of loosing her. Loosing the sun to your moon. The earth to your ocean. The stars to your comets. Her visions only worried you, you were well aware her timeline wasn’t the same as yours. That made your mind suffer, suffocating you with the need to know she’s safe.

This prompts a deep and throaty chuckle from Lilia. She was clearly amused by how much you adored her. It made her happy, and made you feel loved. It’s a good feeling to know that she’s finally convinced that you actually adore her. It what felts like eternity for that to happen. She was so guarded, and solemn about romantic affection. Especially compliments, she was so damn stubborn when it came to compliments.

“It’s alright dear. You can have your time.”

She whispers into your ear. Placing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her chocolate brown eyes, large and understanding. Her smile lines deepening, while her mouths turns upwards in a genuine smile.

….

Taking that opportunity, you carefully used your magic while she took hold of your hips softly. The warmth of the coral energy flowing through your veins, muscles, and blood streams. Gradually turning your 5’3 self into a size smaller then a mouse. Cupped gently in Lilia’s palms. While you blink and rub your eyes. Getting used to your new size, and how everything looked and sounded differently.

Once you adjusted, you’re met with Lilia’s kind smile. Her thumb gently caressing the top of your hair, petting you like you’re made of the most delicate glass. She had a tendency to get very soppy whenever you got tiny. As if she was looking at the cutest creature she had ever laid her eyes on. Which was exactly the case to her.

“You ready sweetheart?”

You nod, reaching your arms out when she brings you to her chest. Transferring you to only one hand, so she can use the other to pull her robe and bra from her skin. Guiding you to the crevice between her soft breasts. Her bra just big enough where it dipped down in the middle. Creating sort of a hammock, where you could tuck yourself away comfortably. Nuzzled in between her breasts. The warmth of them consuming you entirely. While she pulls her shirt back over you, and the darkness falls over you.

It was the most peaceful you’ve ever felt in your life when you were here. Nuzzled close to her heart, listening to her breathing and heartbeat. While her perfect boobies where not only keeping you warm, but also were the perfect walls, enveloping you in pure comfort. No one would ever know that you were in her bra. Unless they saw you of course. It was the perfect way that she could keep you close, keep you safe. While also combatting your thanatophobia, by letting you physically feel her heartbeat with your entire body.

Another perk was that you to quite literally go anywhere with her. When she goes to the market for fresh produce, you’re asleep in her bra. When she’s at the bank having meetings about payments plans for her debt, you’re nestled in that little hammock area. Talking notes, or kneading at her flesh gently when she gets tense. She has to work overtime? Fine, you squished yourself far into her breasts.

If it was a day where she didn’t feel like wearing a bra fine. She’s tuck you into the pocket of her pants or coat. Sneaking up crumbs of her lunch or dinner if she went out. Did you have to do it that. No, absolutely not. However, what’s the fun in being normal? Exactly. Not only did it add a layer of complexity, but it was also fun. It’s a nice way for the both of you to be together all the time. Not that you didn’t have your alone times. You did, but you preferred to be in each others presence. Being that grounding force for the both of you.

It was also good for when she had visions. Her heart rate would increase a few moments before. If you were tucked against her chest, you could warn her of a vision and get her to sit down. It was rare, but there were times where a particularly bad vision would make her loose her balance. You wanted her safe, to keep her safe the best you could. Just like she does for you.

“Would you like some tea?”

She asks you once more, humming while she goes back to making breakfast. The pop of the kettle opening, and the steam flowing into the air around you. The hot air warming her face and chest. Which only made you more content.

“Sounds nice.”

Your voice also sounds like a purr, so deeply content and a little sleepy.

“Coming right up.”

You hum out in content, while Lilia moves around. Keeping your eyes closed, used to the rocking about of her movement. The air smelt like cinnamon and basil. Lilia liked to grow her own herbs, partly to save me, but also because she was deeply connected with Mother Nature. Taking comfort, and dependence with the realms of nature. She also used cinnamon sticks for different recipes, and other bits and bobs she does. You didn’t complain, because it smelt to good. She also always added it to your tea or your hot chocolate without having to be asked.

Before you know it, you’re leaning outside the hammock of her bra. Hands holding a thimble full of herbal tea, while watching a cheesy soap opera with Lilia It was all painfully domestic, and in all honesty. Neither of you wouldn’t want it to be any other way.

…

It was around a week later, a nice Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining, almost blindingly through the open windows of the tiny one room apartment. Lilia’s pretty, lacy white bra was strung up on a nail in one of the cabinets. Where you were nestled peacefully, reading a book. Meanwhile, Lilia is standing at the kitchen counter. Using a mortar and pestle to crush and grind different herbs into healing compounds. While simultaneously reading the recipe from an old guide to natural remedies book she recently bought. She was very focused, some of her grey curled have escaped from her hair clip. Hanging loosely to frame her face, while her brows are scrunched together, lips pursed.

She looked very focused, which only made you smile even more. One of your favorite sights was seeing her in her element, so enamored with the work she is doing, using what Mother Nature had proved for her. Turning it into something useful, and potentially live saving. That’s just the kind of person she is. Also her specialty is divination, she was prompted early on to also be a healer. Although she wouldn’t claim the title herself, and firmly deny it. There was no doubt, she knew what to do when illness or minor injury would occur.

It only made you love her more.

——————————————————————————

Robe References: Lilia’s ~ Reader’s

Sicilian Word Translations (not perfect, I had to google) :

Amuri Miu - My love

Duci - Sweetie

Comu durmìsti? Vuliti lu tè? - How'd you sleep? Do you want tea? [rough translation]

[dearly-somber]

I Like Me Better | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, mutual pining, f2l, fluff, domestic fluff, eventual romance, eventual smut

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1066

-> warnings. None!!

-> a/n. This. This is so… 💔 I love them 💔

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. March 22nd, 2023 @ 22:15

-> fin. Sat., Jul. 6th, 2024 @ 02:05

-> edited. Wed., Jul. 10th, 2024 @ 21:34

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn, @saradika-graphics

You tap the end of your pen against your lips, brows furrowed and lips pursed as you contemplate what to write.

Her eyes spring to life in light of her realization that, actually, she loves him.

She loves him.

Okay.

Now what?

You sigh loudly, dropping the pen to hide your face in your hands and stare at the sentence like it’ll magically unstuck your brain.

Just as you’re about to restart for what feels like the hundredth time, a loud thud draws your attention away from your eyesore of a story to your front door.

Another thud, this time accompanied by an all too familiar drunken groan.

You loudly squeak off your island-chair, leaving your notebook open for later as you speed-walk to your front door with a growing frown. Surely not…

You open the door and can’t help the way your mouth parts in surprise: Jungkook is leaning his forehead against the doorframe, his hair disheveled and eyes closed as his body sways gently from side to side.

“Jungkook,” you say, looking him up and down with a clear look of disapproval (even though he doesn’t actually look that sloshed). “How much have you had to drink?”

Jungkook pries his eyes open and blinks a couple times as a drowsy smile forms on his lips, his eyes turning up at the corners the wider his smile gets. “Bunnyyy~”

“Wait, JungkaCK—!”

You stumble back with a little oof as Jungkook trips over the threshold and into your arms, his hands on your hips to hold himself up and his face hidden in the crook of your neck. He hums appreciatively, your skin tingling at the sensation as he holds you tighter and buries his nose deeper into your neck, a low whine rumbling in his throat.

“Kook-ah,” you reprimand softly, petting his hair while you soothingly pat the small of his back with your free hand.

He whines again like he knows you have questions and is saying not right now, please.

You sigh against his shoulder with a tiny, disapproving shake of your head, giving in without really thinking about it. You pat his back and whisper assurances when he gets loud after you pull away to close the door, gently shushing him when he starts drunkenly complaining that you’re “pushing him away” and “hurting his feelings.”

Getting him to your bedroom is a mission in and of itself.

“Why~” he keeps loudly whining, keeping his feet steadfastly planted right where they are instead of just following you like the lost puppy he normally is.

“Jungkook, please,” you fake-cry, pulling on his arm like a toddler trying to drag her unwilling mother into a toy store. “I’m trying to help you,” you plead.

“Yeah, ‘n then you’re gonna leave,” he complains childishly, his words slurring together as those big brown eyes of his sparkle because of the shitty fluorescent lamp hanging off the ceiling.

“Leave where?” you laugh. “I live here.”

“You have work,” he mumbles, finally taking a step toward you, but only to possessively slide his hands around your waist so he can pull you closer.

“Why?” you ask, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and subconsciously leaning your head back so Jungkook can slot his face into your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. “You want me to get a bad grade?”

There’s a long pause before he pouts an answer against your neck. “No…”

“There we go,” you mutter, sliding your hands around the back of Jungkook’s neck to gently scratch the exposed skin, chuckling when he shivers appreciatively against you. “I tell you what—“

You pull away from him to hold his face, swiping your thumbs over his cheekbones and smiling dumbly when his eyes flutter shut. “How about I stay with you until you fall asleep, hm? That sound good, Wolfie?”

Jungkook audibly hums into your palm, finally letting you guide him to your room and only kind of complaining when you get him comfortable under the covers.

You sit on the edge of the bed and smile softly when he grabs your hand and holds it on top of his chest, his eyes fluttering closed right as his breathing evens out.

You have no idea why Jungkook was drinking, or how he ended up at your apartment instead of the pack house, but you find your stomach-resident butterflies fluttering about anyway. He got drunk and his first thought was to come to you?

Just thinking about it makes your heart race!

You slip your hand out from under his as smoothly as you can, grabbing your phone from off the bedside table. You shake your head with a fond smile at the string of drunken messages Jungkook sent you before getting here, swiping past them to your shared group chat with Jungkook and the rest of the pack.

JK’s with me !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

He’s drunk and a little clingy, but he’s safe~ (─‿─)

You smile at the string of heart messages that follow, setting your phone back down and turning to look at Jungkook.

He’s laying with his head turned away from you, one hand still on his chest and the other spread out beside him. His lips are very slightly parted and his hair’s a little ruffled from when he was getting comfy earlier, his perfectly long lashes brushing over his cheeks as he breathes in softly though his mouth.

You smile, your heart growing ten times fonder at the soft little snores leaving his lips every time his chest rises and falls, so peaceful and soft that your heart melts into a puddle of Y/N-shaped goo.

It’s in this moment you come to the realization you’re in love with your best friend.

You’re in love with Jeon Jungkook.

“Huh.”

You watch his face twitch in his sleep and think, how didn’t I realize sooner?

You ache to join him and explore these newly realized feelings of yours via some not-so-platonic-anymore cuddling, but it’s late—and you have a very important assignment waiting for you to in the kitchen—so you settle for something you hope will calm the unbearable warmth in your belly.

You lean down to place a soft kiss on Jungkook’s head, taking a moment to smell his hair (coconut) and appreciate your closeness before forcing yourself to step away.

When you sit back down to finish writing, the words flow like water.

<- prev | next ->

[merwgue]

ACOTAR as Political Fiction: Power, Propaganda, and the Politics of War

Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses is often discussed in terms of romance and fantasy, but beneath the magic and love stories lies a deeply political narrative. From court rivalries to warfare, from gendered power structures to propaganda campaigns, ACOTAR is a reflection of how political machinations operate beneath personal dynamics. Maas creates a world where leadership, territorial control, and manipulation of perception are as important—if not more so—than individual relationships. When analyzed from a critical perspective, especially through the rivalry between the Spring and Night Courts, it becomes evident that ACOTAR is not just political, but a story about politics itself.

The foundational structure of the ACOTAR universe is inherently political. Prythian is divided into seven autonomous courts, each governed by a High Lord, functioning like independent nations or sovereign states. Each court has its own power system, culture, military, and geopolitical strategy. Tamlin’s Spring Court, for example, mirrors a traditional monarchy with public councils and border protections, while Rhysand’s Night Court functions more like a closed-off oligarchy, where the Inner Circle operates as an unelected ruling body. These courts engage in diplomacy, espionage, and war, just like real-world nations.

Furthermore, Maas adds additional layers of politics through the human-lands south of the Wall, where the class divide between humans and fae mirrors the political dynamics of colonialism, xenophobia, and racial segregation. The Wall itself acts as a literal political boundary, separating two “nations” that distrust and fear one another, showing how even territorial divisions in ACOTAR are political in nature.

The heart of ACOTAR’s political narrative lies in the ongoing power struggle between the courts, most notably between Tamlin’s Spring Court and Rhysand’s Night Court. What is often interpreted as a personal feud between Tamlin and Rhys is, on a deeper level, a political conflict. Rhysand and his Inner Circle engage in covert operations to destabilize Tamlin’s territory. Feyre’s infiltration of the Spring Court in A Court of Wings and Ruin is a prime example of political sabotage, where the Night Court plants Feyre as a spy under the guise of personal empowerment. Feyre’s actions—spreading chaos, sabotaging defences, and driving Tamlin’s people to rebellion—mirror covert intelligence operations designed to weaken a rival state's internal structure.

This strategy weakens Spring Court militarily and politically, conveniently positioning the Night Court as the leading power in Prythian’s defense against Hybern. It’s no coincidence that while the other courts are fractured, the Night Court consolidates its influence, cloaking its actions in the language of heroism and rebellion. What appears as a romantic or personal arc is, in fact, political warfare disguised as narrative justice.

Rhysand’s Inner Circle represents an insular, unchecked political body. Decisions about the future of Prythian—including how to handle war with Hybern, manipulate the other High Lords, and intervene in Illyrian camps—are made by a small elite group loyal to Rhysand alone. This structure mirrors shadow governments or unelected ruling councils in history, where power is concentrated in the hands of a few who operate above public scrutiny.

In contrast, Tamlin, despite his flaws, governs through more traditional channels, involving wider court discussions and public affairs. His leadership style reflects the burden of monarchy, where he must manage the needs of his people under external pressure and public accountability. While Tamlin faces blame and downfall in the story, it is in part because he lacks the secrecy and propaganda apparatus the Night Court wields so effectively.

Perhaps the most politically charged element of ACOTAR is how the Night Court manipulates perception—both within the story and for the reader. Velaris, hidden away and protected by magical wards, is portrayed as a utopia untouched by Amarantha’s cruelty, but this comes at the political cost of abandoning other territories to suffer. Rhysand and his Inner Circle maintain Velaris’s peace and prosperity by withdrawing from open conflict until it is convenient to re-enter the political landscape.

This mirrors historical instances where powerful states protect their elite cities while leaving outlying regions vulnerable. Meanwhile, the Night Court spreads a narrative of themselves as progressive saviors, winning Feyre—and the reader—over with selective information, much like state propaganda. By contrast, Tamlin, who is left to face Amarantha’s wrath openly and whose people suffer under the curse, is framed as the antagonist despite bearing the visible consequences of war and trauma.

The Night Court’s internal politics also expose further political contradictions. The Illyrians—an ethnic warrior race under Rhysand’s control—are subjected to strict hierarchies, forced breeding programs, and systemic patriarchy, despite the Night Court’s “progressive” image. Rhysand’s half-measures to reform the Illyrian camps highlight how power structures within his own territory remain deeply flawed, reflecting how nations often mask internal injustices while promoting an external image of equality.

Meanwhile, Tamlin’s actions, often criticized as controlling toward Feyre, can also be viewed through the lens of wartime politics, where leaders must sometimes make unpopular decisions to safeguard key political figures (in this case, Feyre, who has become an asset in the larger war against Hybern). Rather than villainy, Tamlin’s behavior reflects the heavy hand of political realism, forced to balance personal emotion with national security.

Finally, Hybern’s invasion of Prythian cements ACOTAR as a book about imperialism and anti-colonial resistance. Hybern operates as a classic imperial power, seeking to subjugate Prythian and the human lands through military conquest and magical dominance. The courts’ eventual unification to fight Hybern in ACOWAR mirrors the formation of political coalitions in times of global threat, echoing alliances formed during major world wars.

Far from being a simple fantasy romance, A Court of Thorns and Roses is deeply entangled in politics at every level—from inter-court rivalries and covert operations to class struggles and gendered power structures. The power struggle between the Spring and Night Courts, the secretive operations of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, the manipulation of Feyre as a political pawn, and the wider war against Hybern all reveal ACOTAR as a political allegory wrapped in fantasy.

The narrative asks readers to interrogate how power operates: who holds it, how it is exercised, and who suffers in the process. When viewed through this lens, ACOTAR becomes a story about political survival, statecraft, and propaganda, where Tamlin, despite his flaws, becomes a symbol of traditional leadership crushed beneath the weight of newer, darker political tactics deployed by the Night Court. In this way, Maas has crafted a world that is as much about political warfare as it is about magic and romance.

All this to say, yes ACOTAR is built on politics, you cannot say "let's not make this political!!" When the very core of the book is democracy and politics.

[fordragonfliesandme]

Start the Year Green: Achieve Your Gardening Goals with These Top 10 Resolutions!

Introduction to gardening resolutions! As the new year begins, many of us are motivated to make positive changes in our lives. While resolutions often focus on personal growth or health, why not extend that mindset to our gardens? Gardening resolutions can help us set goals, stay focused, and achieve the green oasis we’ve always dreamed of. In this article, I will share the top 10 gardening…

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Enchant Me Chapter 1: I Was Enchanted to Meet You✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I want to thank that purple house for giving me this whole idea in the first place, but reader and Joel are so soft in this series I’m crying 🥹 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for listen to me babble my ideas and rant about how cute these two are in this series! We don’t have enough witchy, nature reader Joel fics, so thought I should make one ☺️✨🌙 Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, I always love hearing your feedback! 💜

Summary: Joel delivers a custom built table to a little house out in the middle of the woods, but he doesn’t realize he’s going to fall for the girl behind the doors of that small purple house. He falls head over heels for her special herbal tea, tarot card readings, and talks of nature and plants as he keeps going back to see her.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader (Fic is in both reader and Joel’s POV)

Word Count: 7.7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Soft Joel, lots of fluff, Joel falling in love, witchy reader, eventual smut in later chapters, plant and animal lover reader, lots of cute nicknames for reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon. I was enchanted to meet you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you.”

- Taylor Swift “Enchanted”

The spring breeze of April rustles through Austin as green leaves blow gently down the street, light streaks of sunlight glistening in the open shop as Joel finishes the final touches on a lilac handmade wooden side table. Tiny, intricate white flowers he’d hand painted cover the lilac material. Joel had no idea who he was making it for, he only saw the order request in the computer on his list of custom orders. Tommy must’ve talked to that particular customer when Joel was in the back crafting something.

As Joel finishes the final touches on polishing the little table, he yells for Tommy to come over. “Hey, Tommy. Who’s this order for? I just got finished, guess I can go ahead and deliver it today since we aren’t too busy,” he says as he stands up with a huff, placing a hand on his lower back as he gets up from the rough ground.

“Ahh, that one is for this sweet girl that came in a couple weeks ago. Kinda shy, quiet, but sweet as pie. Pretty thing, too. She sure talked a lot about nature,” Tommy laughs as he grabs the thick white notebook and gets your contact information out, handing Joel the address and name of the customer who had bought it.

Joel looks at it carefully as his eyes scan the address. “She lives out in the middle of nowhere,” Joel says as his eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah, all the way in Cedar Lake. Not too far, but that’s definitely not in the city. It’s only twenty minutes from here though. So, you want me to take it? I don’t mind,” Tommy replies as he leans to grab the notebook. Joel brings it out of his reach and clutches it to his chest.

“Nah, I’m the one that made it so I’ll be the one delivering it.”

“Suit yourself,” Tommy scoffs as he holds his hands up. “Tell her I said hello, will ya?”

“Sure,” Joel says as he grabs the paper with your name and address on it and shoves it down in the denim pocket of his dark jeans. He rolls his blue flannel sleeves up to his elbows and exposes tanned skin as he grabs up the table and loads it in the back of his white Chevy truck.

Once he’s inside and has the engine revved up, he pulls away from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and heads down the street, toward the direction of a long, gravel road that will take him to your place.

Cedar and oak trees fill the last half of the drive while deer scurry off from grazing in the grass as soon as they see Joel’s truck. The houses get thinner in this area, only one or two spread out with acres of land behind them. Joel keeps driving through the thick of the green, eyes trained on the narrow road ahead of him.

“Now who lives all the way out here?” Joel asks himself as his GPS stops him right as he pulls up to a single house that’s surrounded entirely by the woods.

He puts his truck into park and turns off the engine, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket. Just as he steps outside into the grass, a wild rabbit runs off into the opposite direction of him and a black raven caws and flies off into a tall cedar tree.

Whoever lives here must like animals a lot.

Joel carefully retrieves the furniture from the bed of his truck and grunts his way to the front door, making his way up the few wooden steps that lead him to the front door. When he sets the side table on the wooden porch, he takes in the outside of the house.

The house is painted a deep purple color with yellow wooden rails outlining the edge of the porch. All types of different floral plants of names he doesn’t know lines each side of the cobbled stone path that leads to the front of the house. Colorful stained glass windows are sprawled on the top windows as the bottom windows sit wide open for the warm breeze to seep into. It’s unique, a house like he’s never quite seen before. Now he needs to know who lives way out here in the middle of nowhere in a little purple house that’s stacked with plants.

He knocks on the sturdy purple door three times and stands back while he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, fidgeting with his fingers as he patiently waits. Before long, he hears the creak of the door opening and looks up to say his greeting.

“Hi, I’m from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and I came to…”

He stops when he takes in the sights of you as you open the door wide, stepping out onto the porch in a lilac colored sundress that goes down to the middle of your thighs, exposing long legs as the bodice hugs your hips perfectly. He gasps at the beautiful shades of your eyes. He’s never seen such beautiful eyes before, a color that reminds him of warm summer days and clover covered fields. Your hair is in soft curls, held back by a pink ribbon as you flash him a smile that can knock him down to his knees. He thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. The most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Oh! My little table I ordered. I had no idea it was finished! Let me see it,” you say excitedly as he steps out of the way and lets you bend over to analyze the table.

You rake your fingers over the smooth, polished wood and carefully trace the edges of the hand painted white flowers that cover the surface of the table. It’s so beautiful, exactly what you were looking for when you placed the order. You were afraid they wouldn’t see the vision you were going for, but this was exactly what you wanted. It was perfect.

“This is incredible! Exactly what I pictured it to be. Who made this?” you ask incredibly as you hover over the top of the smooth wood.

“I did,” he says nervously behind you.

You drop your hands and push yourself off the porch, turning to take in the man who made this himself. “You made this?” you ask quietly.

“Mhm. Just finished it up today,” he answers, his eyes locking on yours as he nods his head up and down slowly.

“Oh, well it’s exactly what I wanted! It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says with a Southern accent that stops you in your tracks.

Sweetheart. You like the sound of that a lot.

“And you are?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, curiosity swirling in your eyes at the handsome gentleman who stands in front of you.

“Oh, sorry. My name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He holds his arm out, waiting for you to take his hand patiently, his eyes flicking over yours carefully. You slowly place your hand in his and shake.

You almost gasp when you feel his calloused fingers close over yours. He feels like magic, like shooting sparks are flying in his soft brown eyes as he holds your hand in his. You’ve never had this reaction shaking a man’s hand before. This feels… different. The magic dies as soon as he drops his hand, and you almost reach for his hand again just to feel that buzzing sensation through your body that was there when his hand was in yours.

“Miller. Is Tommy Miller your brother?” you ask with a curious smile.

“Yes, ma’am. He helps me run the shop.”

“Oh, I see. Well, Joel, I’m glad it was you that brought this by for me today,” you smile gently, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him as he blushes and pushes a hand through his tousled curls nervously. You think he’s absolutely beautiful.

“It was no trouble. And your name? I didn’t catch your name, darlin’.”

Darlin’. There he goes again with the little nicknames. You wish he’d never stop. He could just keep going. He could call you anything he wanted to, and you’d let him. As long as he came back here again.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it like honey dripping off the tip of his tongue. It sounds beautiful the way he says it. Like sweet tea that simmers in your soul. It sounds all lilty and dreamy, and you decide then that you do want to see him again.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says softly as his lips curl up into a dreamy smile that almost takes your breath away.

“Oh, uh - thank you,” you smile in return.

You take in his full features now. See the way his eyes shine like caramel in the warm sun that glazes over them, see the dark brown flecks mix with warmer colors to make the prettiest soft brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. His skin is tan like gold, his broad shoulders filling out the blue button-up flannel shirt that presses firmly to his strong chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as they expose thick veins that cascade down his arms to end in big, thick hands. Hands you’d like to hold on more than one occasion.

And his smile. God, his smile sends your insides spiraling. He’s so fucking beautiful, and you hope he’ll stay for tea. Maybe, just maybe he’ll want to try your famous hibiscus herbal tea.

Please, stay.

“Here, let me put this inside for you. It’s a little heavy, so don’t want you to try to lift it,” he says adamantly as he bends over and scoops up the little side table in his arms.

You open the door wide for him and watch him walk through the entrance as you point to your cream colored couch that sits up against the soft pastel purple colored walls. “Just right next to the couch will be fine, thank you,” you say as you watch his biceps cling to his flannel shirt, watching the way his back muscles pull against his shirt to expose thick muscles that you’d kill to run your fingers down.

He’s so gorgeous.

When he sets down the table on the dark wooden floor, he takes in your little living space. He examines your white shelf that holds purple orchids, different colored carnations, and potted hanging plants whose vines spill over the edges fluidly.

Next, he notices the windowsill that has amethyst and pink quartz crystals lined against the edge as a stack of flower tarot cards lay against the crystals. He takes in the bright colors of your kitchen as the sunlight beams through the open windows as robins chirp their melodious songs outside the window. Lavender and white tulips encase the edges of the light colored wooden countertop as it overflows with various herbs that stack neatly together.

The air smells dewy-fresh as the aroma of flowers and tea fill the air. You watch Joel take in his surroundings carefully and see his lips part open just slightly as he spins in a slow circle. You lean against the wooden countertop and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch him dreamily. He’s just so handsome, so intriguing, so curious.

As he turns back your direction, you straighten up and try to act normal, but it’s so hard around him. So very hard. “You uh, you sure like flowers don’t ya?” he asks as you blush from the question.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask nervously as he comes over and leans against the opposite side of the counter, staring up into your eyes as he gently smiles.

“No, s’not a bad thing. Just I haven’t seen a house quite like yours before. It’s very… unique what you’ve done to the place,” he says as his eyes skate across your lit up kitchen.

“Well, I’m a unique person,” you giggle out, letting the single pearl necklace bounce along your tan chest.

“I can see that,” he smiles as his eyes skate down your lilac sundress, gulping when you see him rake his eyes over your full breasts and down your curvy hips and smooth thighs. You suck in a breath when his warm eyes land back on yours as you watch the sunlight trickle warm golden colors against his gentle brown eyes.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Purple your favorite color?” he asks as he examines the soft colored walls in your kitchen.

“How could you tell?” you ask as a soft giggle echoes around the small living space.

“I’m good at observations,” he says with a smirk that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Oh, this one is gonna be a tease. You just know it.

“You live out here alone?” he asks as he walks around the counter, dragging his finger along the wooden edges as he stares at the purple orchids that lay across your wide open kitchen window.

“Yeah, it’s just me and my flowers. Also, my cat, Oliver. He’s probably outside hunting mice or something,” you laugh.

“Ahh. I see.”

You watch the way he furrows his eyebrows at the flowers, looking at them as if he’s trying to figure out what they are. Somehow you think he doesn’t know a lot about plants. Maybe you could teach him.

“Orchids,” you say as you walk up next to him, laying your hand on the wooden counter as you place your eyes on the vibrant deep purple colors of the flowers.

“Huh?” he asks as turns around and faces you.

“These are orchids.” You nod your head to the lush flowers, and an understanding grunt comes from deep within his chest.

“Oh, I see. They’re pretty,” he says as he drops his hand back to the counter. His pinky finger drags along the side of yours, and you feel hot fire run through your fingertips.

You drop your hand and watch him take a step back, eyes melding into yours as the sunlight bursts through his brown irises. You can’t help but to fall for him right then. This man was going to make you pull out the tarot cards, see if love was in your near future. With him.

He shifts his weight and leans into the edge of the counter, contemplating his next actions. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. It was nice to meet you,” he says as he starts to walk toward the front door.

You freeze, almost choke up as the words run dry in your throat. “Wait!” It comes off desperate, loud, and you think you just ruined your chances with him. He turns back around with his eyebrows raised, maybe even alarmed that you almost screamed at him.

“Tea? Do you like tea?” you ask, desperate for him to stay a little longer. You want him, need him to stay just a few more minutes. You want to get to know this man, maybe want to give him a tarot reading, if he wanted one.

“Tea? ‘Course I do. Why do you ask?” He knits his eyebrows together as if he’s concentrating a little too hard on you, and you gulp at the sight of those gorgeous flecks of brown staring back at you.

“Will you stay for tea? I just picked some fresh herbs from the garden, and it’s the least I can do for having you deliver my furniture for me. Please,” you say as you nod to your cream colored couch, asking him to sit while you prepare the tea.

He flicks his eyes over the smooth material of the couch and back at you as his eyes blaze into yours. “Sure, darlin’. I’d love to,” he says as he moves to the couch and sits down gently as his body presses against the soft material. You have to avert your eyes from his large thighs that pull against the dark material of his jeans.

He’s so fucking broad and muscular. He was going to get you into trouble if you were already practically drooling at his Southern charm and good looks.

You smile and get to work chopping up lavender and rosemary herbs as you mix them together with elderberries and hibiscus flowers while you pour almond milk and a dash of water together. Everyone loves your herbal teas, you just hoped Joel would, too.

“So, is this one of your specialities or somethin’? You sure do have a lot of herbs and teacups around,” he says as he assesses your china cabinet full of floral tea cups and fine china that you’ve been collecting for years. Call it a hobby or an addiction, but you’ve been making tea for as long as you can remember. That’s why you have your own tea shop just a few miles down the road. A business you’ve loved every since you got to open your little shop a few years ago.

“Something like that,” you giggle as you continue mixing the various ingredients together in a large glass pitcher. “I actually own my own little tea shop a few miles down the road. It’s called Starlight’s Corner.”

“Starlight’s Corner, huh? Strange, I’ve never heard of it. Where is it located?” he asks as he leans his elbows against his knees and places his hands under his chin, eyes focused on you. You try not to blush as he watches you mix together the tea, but you fail to no avail.

“It’s just off Fourth Street, right next to a little boutique. You can’t miss it.”

“Wait, that’s not too far from my shop. I guess I’ll have to come check it out sometime,” he says with a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah, guess you should.”

After mixing the ingredients together and throwing a dash of sugar in there, you pour two glasses of the floral sweet smelling tea and walk over to him slowly. You hand him a glass and when he takes it your fingers brush up against his, causing you to jolt your hand back as purple liquid splashes over the side of the cup and lands on top of Joel’s denim covered thigh.

You gasp and set your own drink down on the glass coffee table as you run to grab a towel from the kitchen. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, really I’m so sorry,” you apologize hurriedly as you go back over and hand him the dark hand towel, your face beat red with embarrassment as you say sorry another five times.

“Darlin’, relax. It’s alright. It’s just a little spill. Nothing I can’t handle,” he says as he hushes you, circling his hand over your wrist as all worries seem to vanish at his soft touch.

Your breathing calms as you relax your shoulders, his fingers still pressed firmly around your wrist as you feel every single callous that covers his thick fingers. It’s soothing, relaxing, mind numbing as he stares up at you with those warm brown eyes of his, his chest rising and falling calmly as his other hand presses the towel to his damp thigh. And suddenly it’s like you’re in the middle of your lush garden outside, smelling the sweet scents of wildflowers and fresh air as you breathe in his mahogany scent. He smells like fresh wood and pine trees, a scent you could get completely lost in, drown in.

He suddenly drops his fingers from your skin, and it’s like you wake up from a trance. You want him to touch you again, you want to feel the flames that ignite your skin every time he traces his calloused fingers along your soft, silky skin. You want to know what he tastes like, what he sounds like if your lips ever pressed up against his soft, plush lips.

You shake your head out of your lovesick daze and grab your glass of tea as you go around to the other side of the couch and sit down next to him, just inches from your thigh meeting his. You watch him towel off the damp spot on his thigh, rubbing the material harshly as he calls it good and sits the now damp towel on the coffee table.

“Joel, again, I’m so sorry. Let me…”

He holds his large hand out and silences you as your voice stops cold. “Sweetheart, ya gotta stop aplogizin’. Really, it’s fine,” he presses as he goes to grab the half filled glass of tea. He grips it in his large hand and brings it close to his plush lips.

“I hope you like sweet tea,” you say before he takes a sip, hopeful that he won’t hate it.

“If it’s as sweet as you, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he smiles.

Your cheeks flush crimson as you take in the compliment and watch him bring the rim of his glass up to his lips, throwing back his head as you watch the hibiscus tea run slowly down his throat. You watch the way the liquid pulls at his lips, watch the way the veins in his neck bulge and flex as he drinks it down. You can’t help but lick your parched lips as you watch him gulp the liquid down. You wonder what it’d feel like to hang on his lips like that, wonder how it’d taste to run your tongue along his soft, inviting lips.

He tilts his head back up and sets the now almost empty glass back on the table as he licks his lips and smiles sweetly over at you. “Darlin’, how did I not know you had a tea shop so close to my store? This is the best tea I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he muses as you smile over at him in wonder.

“Really? You really liked it that much?” you ask with wide eyes glazing over his big brown eyes that you want to get lost in.

“Mhm. I mean it when I say that was the best glass of tea I’ve ever had,” he says as he nods his head. “Especially when it’s from a gorgeous girl like yourself,” he blushes.

Gorgeous? Oh. He called you gorgeous.

“Oh, stop,” you laugh as you stand and grab his glass up. “You want some more? I have plenty.”

“Absolutely,” he nods.

You pad your bare feet into the kitchen and find Oliver sitting at the edge of the window. His large green eyes hover over at Joel and his calico markings dance in the sunlight as he creeps into the kitchen and slowly makes his way over to Joel, inspecting the newcomer in his house.

“This must be Oliver?” Joel asks as he bends over and pets Oliver as he rubs against Joel’s leg. You giggle to yourself as that’s a sign Oliver likes someone. Looks like Joel is now welcome in his humble abode after all.

“Yep, that’s sweet Oliver. I think he likes you,” you giggle as you watch him scratch the clean fur on his back, hearing Oliver’s loud purrs echo into the open kitchen.

“Looks like it,” he chuckles out. The sound is so warm, inviting as it reverberates through his chest. It’s a sound you’d like to hear around here more often, a sound you could get used to fast.

“You have any pets, Joel?” you ask as you pour more delicious liquid into his glass and saunter back over to him, setting it on the table as to not spill anymore tea on him.

“Can’t say that I do. Never really was a cat person, but for some reason this one seems to like me,” he says as Oliver rubs up against his leg and jumps up into your lap the moment you sit down.

“Hmm, guess he has a good sense of judgement,” you wink at him, watching him nervously run a hand through his tousled dark curls. You want to run your hands through his curls, down his patchy beard that’s sprinkled with salt and pepper grey. He looks to be in his mid forties, an older man who you’d love to get to know better.

“How ummm, how old are you, sweetheart?” he asks as he drags his thick fingers through his patchy scruff, ending at his chin as he drops his hand gently back to his lap.

“Twenty-nine. And yourself?” you ask as you cock an eyebrow up at him.

“Forty-three,” he answers nervously as if to await a harsh judgement his way. You have no issue with an older man though. You wouldn’t even mind if he was your same age, you just wanted to know him. You were intrigued by his charm and creative hands.

“Forty-three, huh?” you ask as your eyes flick up and down him, memorizing his lean jaw and the way his fingers lightly flex in his lap when he has his eyes fixed on you. You were starting to read him well. He was nervous, maybe a little shy around the edges, but you definitely saw that he was nervous about his age. He shouldn’t be.

“Yeah, I’m an old man,” he jokes as his cheeks turn slightly pink from nerves.

“Nah, you’re definitely not old,” you confirm. “If you were old, you wouldn’t have been able to carry that table in for me,” you smile.

“Forty-three ain’t too old for ya?” he teases, but his eyes focus intently on you, needing to know he had a chance. And he definitely had a chance.

“No, it’s the perfect age,” you smile shyly.

He laughs and shakes his head, making a stray curl fall against his forehead. Without even thinking, you take your hand and push it back out of his eyes and feel just how silky smooth his hair really is.

His lips part open as you realize just how close to his face you are now, just a couple inches from his plush lips that probably taste of velvet. Your heart speeds up as you stare into his beautiful eyes, seeing every single golden brown fleck that glistens like galaxies in his eyes. You feel your hand drop to his chest, feel him lean forward as you inhale that woodsy scent that draws you to him. You’re so close, so close to a taste of heaven you so desperately want to reach.

When you realize just what you’re doing, you push back from him and put some distance in between the two of you as you catch your breath and come back down to reality. You almost kissed him. Why the fuck did you stop? You take a large drink of your tea and let the floral flavors float down your throat, hoping it’ll cool off your flushed cheeks as you feel fire burn through your core.

Get a hold of yourself. You just met this man.

Joel clears his throat and shifts his weight on the couch, grabbing his glass as he takes another generous gulp of the purple tea. Oliver sits across the room now and stares in between the two of you, meowing as even he feels the connection in the quiet room.

Joel clears the air as the heated moment disappears for the time being. “So, you’re a flower girl, huh?” he asks as his eyes gaze around the room at all your colorful hanging pots of flowers and plants that line the walls.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a flirtatious gleam in your smile.

“Oh, you know. Lucky guess,” he smirks as you feel your insides coat with warmth.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you giggle. “I have an entire garden out in the backyard, too. Actually, more like an enchanted forest, but you know. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna show it to me?” he asks as a smile curls against his lips, making a dimple appear that nearly brings you to your knees. He’s so pretty that it hurts.

“If you want me to,” you say through long lashes that fan out for him.

He chuckles lightly and nods. “C’mon then. Show me,” he says as he stands and reaches for your hand. You’re hesitant at first, but he keeps it extended and nods down at his hand. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you want to show me.” That’s all the encouragement you need.

You take his hand as he helps you up, feeling his calloused fingers close around yours as he pulls you off the velvety surface. He keeps his hand latched around yours until you make it to the back door, feeling a sigh escape your lips as his warmth leaves your hand the moment he drops his fingers from yours. His hand in yours felt so good, it felt right.

You slide on a pair or sandals and lead him down your back porch, past the flowing stone fountain where birds are sitting getting drinks and ruffling their feathers as they bathe in the cool water. You lead him down a winding stone path and watch as he follows close behind.

You trail your fingers on some tall standing cedar trees and push past a small field of sunflowers, watching as the golden finches hang on the flower stems and feed on the seeds. You look behind you and see Joel looking all around him as he takes in the sights of crowded red rose bushes and white tulips that sit side by side as their colors paint each other crimson and white.

“Where are you taking me?” he laughs as he follows close behind.

“You’ll see,” you smile back at him as you grab ahold of his wrist and whisk him to the left, nearing your favorite spot in the place you call your enchanted forest.

As you round a small corner and go through a vine wrapped awning, you pull him into the middle of a large circular field that has rows and rows of different colored wildflowers that scatter across the entire field. Beds of strawberries, grape vines, and all types of various herbs have their own raised beds. Lavender, white lilies, purple irises, and different types of carnations display every which was as the sound of the rushing stream that sits behind a forest of trees carries through the wind. This is home to you.

You spin around and find Joel looking dazed as he takes in his surroundings. He runs his large hands across the growing lavender as he lets his fingers dwindle on the green stems, looking carefully over everything that sits in front of him. He looks to be in awe.

“Welcome to my little place I call my enchanted forest,” you say as you continue staring at him as he slowly turns your direction, releasing his fingers from the lavender that sways slowly in the spring air.

“Did you grow all this?” he asks with wide eyes as you see a Monarch butterfly land softly on the side of his sleeve.

“I did. Took me a little over a year to get everything going, but I think it turned out nicely.”

You walk over in front of him and hold your finger out to the butterfly, watching it come to you as it crawls over your index finger, letting you hold it carefully in your hand as you smile and say hello to the beautiful butterfly.

“Beautiful creatures, aren’t they?” you smile, watching it flap its bright orange wings as it flies off in the direction of some pink wildflowers.

You turn slowly to Joel, and he’s just standing there staring at you as if he’s stuck in a trance. His golden brown eyes gaze into yours as his lips part just the slightest. “Yeah, they are,” he says quietly. But he’s not looking at the butterfly anymore, he’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks burn hot at the way he’s looking at you. He makes you feel so nervous yet so beautiful at the same time. It’s strange, really. Nothing you’ve experienced before.

“Did you know they’re the state insect of Texas?” you say proudly as you pick up a fallen lavender rose off the ground.

“No, I didn’t know that. Fascinating,” he says awestruck, his voice quiet again as his eyes never waver from yours.

You twirl the purple rose in your hand and smile down at it as your fingers brush over the soft, velvety petals. Lavender roses mean enchantment, wonder, and love at first sight. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you walk over to Joel and slip the rose inside the pocket on his blue flannel shirt, accentuating his look as he looks down and runs his finger over the flower.

“You know, all roses have different meanings, depending on their color,” you say as you rock on your heels, your hands behind your back as you play with your fingers nervously.

“Oh, what’s this color mean?” he asks as he runs another finger over the soft petals.

“It means enchantment, wonder, and admiration,” you smile, leaving the love at first sight out as you feel the sun warm your rosy cheeks.

His eyes look up into yours as a small smile curls against his lips, his eyes lighting up like warm honey that you want to drown in. “Enchantment, is that right?” he asks as he takes a step closer to you, his leather boots meeting the edge of your open sandals as you suck in a breath.

“That’s right,” you say quietly, eyes never leaving his warm colored irises.

“Well, you sure enchanted me, sweetheart,” he smiles, his eyes staring straight into yours as you feel warmth overwhelm all your senses.

You enchanted him.

You break his gaze and look down shyly, unable to say anything to that sentence except just to blush and turn around so he doesn’t see the ridiculous smile that’s covering your face. Turns out he enchanted you, too.

“Come here, I want to show you something else,” you say as you lead him over to the large white trellis walls where blackberry vines trail along the ladder. You fill your hands with the deep colored blackberries and tell Joel to follow your lead.

He looks at you with knitted eyebrows as you tell him to be quiet and watch his step. You take him to the edge of the woods where the trees are thick and tall, a sea of green sprawled out in front of you as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, calling to the family of deer that usually greet you every evening.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” he asks quietly as he leans up against the smooth bark of a tall cedar tree.

“Why don’t you take a look?” you smile as you nod your head in the direction of the woods. He straightens up as he watches the pack of deer walk cautiously out into the open as they gather around and greet you.

“Hey there, guys. You hungry?” you ask as you hold your hand out for them to come up to. They come all at once, their reddish-brown coats glistening in the sun as their long legs patter lightly against the green grass. Their wet noses kiss your skin as they eat the berries slowly out of the palm of your hand. You giggle as their wet noses tickle your skin.

Joel stares in wonder, his eyes focused on you as you laugh and smile as each of the deer take berries from your hand. He watches how happy you are as you reach out your open palm and stroke gently over their backs, amazed that wild deer allow you to touch them.

He watches how your eyes light up each time one of the females rub their head gently against the middle of your arm, watches the way you interact and speak to them as if they’re human themselves.

He’s smitten with your smile. That damn beautiful smile that takes the breath from his lungs. And God, he thinks he’s falling in love. He’s never seen someone quite like you before. You’re so soft, so gentle. Almost as if you’re a delicate rose yourself.

You catch him watching you with the daze of his warm eyes, a soft smile etching the corner of his mouth as he stares at you. It’s like he’s in a trance, and it makes you tingle with pure delight inside.

“Joel, come here,” you instruct as you nod your head and call him over.

“Oh, no I couldn’t,” he says timidly as he leans harder against the tree. You’re not letting him get off that easily.

“Joel, please. Just give me your hand.” You reach for him and take his hand in yours, leading him over carefully to the family of deer. He doesn’t pull his hand away, he just keeps his fingers tightly closed over yours.

“Here, wanna feed them?” you ask as you scatter some blackberries in his calloused hands. He slightly hesitates at first, but then he eases up as he holds his hand out and lets one of the females eat out of the palm of his hand. You watch him carefully as his face relaxes, his shoulders lowering as his hand lays flat with the berries inside them. Another deer comes over and starts grazing out of his hand, and you swear you see a little twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I think they like you,” you giggle, watching the way they crowd around him just like they do with you.

“I’ve never fed wild deer before. It’s… well, it’s…”

“Amazing.” You finish his sentence for him as he nods his head up and down.

“Exactly that,” he replies.

When the blackberries are gone, you gently take his hand in yours and reach his arm out, showing him how to pet them the right way so they’ll remember him and want to come back later. You keep your hand on top of his and guide it along the soft fur as one of the females lets you stroke the top of her head. You drop your hand from Joel’s and watch him still trail his hand up and down the deer’s side, seeing the way a soft smile spreads across his face.

“There you go. You’re a natural,” you beam as his honey eyes meet yours, sending a wave of bliss down your entire body.

He just shakes his head and chuckles out a deep laugh. “I swear, it’s like you’re Snow White. You’re really somethin’ special, aren’t ya?” he asks as his eyes sink into the pits of your soul.

Special. He thinks you’re special.

“Thank you for thinking that,” you giggle shyly. “I just know how to get in touch with nature. It’s one of my favorite places to be,” you say with a sing-song voice as you tilt your head and take in the splashes of warm sun against your skin.

Joel just watches dreamily as you close your eyes and take in the sun. He thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, knows just how special you are. He thinks he knew the moment he laid his eyes on you.

When all the deer have left, you give him a tour of your grand garden, telling him all about your favorite flowers and take him down to the edge of the stream as little minnows swim around the middle of the clear water. When you start to lead him back to the house, he starts up light conversation again.

“You really are an expert on nature, aren’t ya? Anything from flowers to planting herbs to animals. You’re really quite somethin’,” he says mesmerized as he stops on the edge of the porch and lingers his hand next to yours, grazing his thumb lightly against the back of your hand as you feel the sparks light up like a million fireworks going off at once. It’s warm, feels safe, makes you feel alive as you trail your pinky finger against his. You want to dance in the flames, let the orange sparks ignite your soul as they take you down to devour you whole.

“You think so?” you smile, watching his honey glazed eyes trail over yours.

“Mhm. Just like a little garden fairy,” he teases as he traces his calloused fingers down your jawline slowly. “Gonna have to teach me more, enchantress,” he whispers as his fingers drop from your jawline, your face burning with desire as you beg to be touched by him again.

Enchantress. The word echoes through your mind as his Southern drawl crashes through your ears. Enchantress, you repeat back to yourself. He’s so sweet, just like the honey that swims in his captivating eyes.

“I’d like that,” you swallow as nerves build in your chest.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens up a blank contact page on the lit up screen, handing it to you so you can type in your phone number. You take the phone from his hands and dance your fingers over the keyboard, putting a fairy emoji next to your name as you push save. You hand it back over to him as he slides it back into the pocket of his jeans.

The sun starts to set as colors of deep purple, bright orange, and dark pink paint the sky red as the sun slowly slips beneath the fluffy clouds. He rakes a hand through his tousled curls and nods your direction as he steps down the porch steps. You wish he’d stay for dinner, but you should probably let him get back home.

“It was nice meeting you, darlin’.” He says your name slowly as it drips off his tongue like sweet molasses, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. “You gonna save some of that sweet tea for me next time?”

Next time. That means there will be a next time. Another day with Joel Miller sipping on your herbal tea as you teach him all about your favorite things. It sounds absolutely magical.

You smile gently at him and shake your head. “I’ll have a pitcher waiting for you,” you promise.

He chuckles as a smile splays against his gorgeous face, painting his eyes the color of hazelnut coffee. So fucking beautiful. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll hold you to it.”

He turns and walks back to his Chevy truck, but before he makes it he turns around and gives you one more long, waning glance. His eyes full of admiration. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you whisper back to him, letting the soft wind carry your voice over to him. He gives you one more lingering smile and then walks away. You watch him start the engine and watch as the his headlights disappear through the trees, down the gravel road that’ll lead him back home.

You turn and slide down your porch, leaning your elbows against the edge of your lilac dress as you let out the longest sigh you’ve ever breathed out of your mouth. Oliver comes up and brushes up against your hip, meowing as he stares up at the lingering dirt in the air from Joel’s truck.

“Yeah, Oliver, I think I like this one, too,” you sigh, daydreaming about the next time you’ll see those dreamy brown eyes of his again.

Joel lays in his bed that night, twirling the lavender colored rose between his fingers, inhaling the scent of fresh gardens, sweet smelling flowers, and you. He’s already memorized your exact smell. You smell like rose petals, lilacs, and sweet tea. It’s intoxicating, a fragrance he can’t seem to get out of his head.

And your smile. God, that sweet smile you give him makes him a weak man. He could never say no to you as long as you fluttered those long, dark eyelashes up at him as you flash him that beautiful smile. The one that makes his heart swell in his chest. He can’t wait to see you again. Just the thought of him pulling you in his arms with that form fitting lilac sundress sends chills down his spine. Joel Miller is not one to fall easily, but for you it might be as easy as putting one foot in front of the other.

He places the soft purple rose on his mahogany bedside table and takes a picture as his camera flashes over the rose. He pulls up your name and attaches the picture with a cute little message.

Please, don’t mess this up, Joel. She’s too perfect.

Your phone chimes on your cream painted nightstand, and you roll over in your queen sized bed, taking the lilac sheets with you as you reach for your iPhone. You see a number you don’t recognize on the lit up screen and slide the lock open. Your heart jolts as soon as you see the picture of the lavender rose on his nightstand, the words take your breath away. It’s him, Joel.

Joel: Thanks again for the rose, little enchantress.

You melt as you read the text over and over and over again. Little enchantress. The nickname nearly makes you fall out of bed with how sweet it is. You text him back a couple minutes later.

You: You’re so very welcome. You’re always welcome to come get some more. My garden is always open.

You end the text with a smiley face and a rose emoji, setting your phone back on the nightstand after pushing send and then hug the silky purple pillow to your chest.

He kept the rose you gave him. He kept the rose. He was thinking about you just like you were thinking about him.

You turn again in your silky lilac sheets and inhale the soft vanilla candles that burn in the corner of your room. The gentle breeze of night slips through your cracked window and blows the sheer white curtains to the side. Shadows dance across your lilac covered walls, and it almost looks like two people slow dancing in the moonlight. You pretend it’s you and Joel, dancing under the moonlight as he pulls you close and grazes his lips against yours, pretend his hands envelop yours as his calloused fingers graze the edges of your face.

You turn back around and close your eyes, wishing for dreams of dark eyes and tousled curls. Joel, Joel Joel. You were all his, all for the taking. He just needed to come sweep you off your feet, and you’d be his. You already knew, he was the one you wanted, the one you’d been wishing for for your entire life. He was the one.

Joel was the one.

Tags: (Please let me know if you do not want to be tagged. I figured you guys would want to read!) @joelalorian @joelmillersblog @vividispunk @tuquoquebrute @mountainsandmayhem @princesatracionera @blueseastorm @janaispunk @amyispxnk @bambisweethearts @vivian-pascal @strawberri-blonde @dugiioh @akah565 @ka-x-in @orcasoul @lotusbxtch @reddedmiller @r3dheadedwitch @pedrostories @jasminedragoon @msjarvis @littlevenicebitch69 @ezrasbirdie-main @cherrybombsxxx @thischarmingmandalorian @prettytulips @burntheedges @sweetercalypso @keylimebeag @casa-boiardi @vvitchesh3x @laurrrra

[sanjoongie]

🌼Blind🌼

Inspired by Golden Hour, Part One: Track 1~

Lyrics: Queen of the night, star of my eyes

🌼Pairing: Persephone! Seonghwa x Hades! Reader (f)

🌼Au: Hades & Persephone Myth retelling, Reversal au

🌼Trope: it was all a bet, he fell first she fell harder

🌼Genre: smut, angst, romance

🌼Rating: Rated 18+, Minors Do Not Interact

🌼Warnings: seducing someone because of a bet, descriptions of a near-death person, the act of torturing (not descriptive), dead plants, descriptions of eating a pomegranate as if it was a heart {Kinks}- hair pulling, wounds from thorns, blood kink, pet names (you call seonghwa your pretty flower, godling), seonghwa has a predator/prey kink, nipple play (m), touching/teasing, begging, hard dom! reader, soft sub! seonghwa, cock torture, oral (m), deep throating, pre-ejaculation, cum eating, overstim, praise kink, dacryphilia, aphrodisiac, scratching, love bites, withheld orgasm, pain kink, oral (f), seonghwa gets pussy drunk, semi-public sex, manhandling (m), gentle face slapping (m), degradation kink, basically Seonghwa is a simp

🌼Word Count: 7,750 {i belatedly realized this concept needed more words than i intended, i promise, the other's won't be so wordy!}

🌼Summary: when both of your sisters Zeus and Poseidon bet that you, the Queen of the Underworld, couldn't lure the sweet and naïve Seonghwa, God of Spring, to become your husband and prince-consort, you seek to prove them wrong

🌼A/N: @smallfrye Smalls said queen of the night lyrics from blind and ‘she gonna eat it up’ so here’s what came from it. Only the best stories for my braincell’s inspiration. and for @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii for always being up to listening to me yap about my hwa ideas

🌼Beta's: @downtoamagicalland

🌼Credits to @cafekitsune for the divider

🌼Apart of the Golden Hour Anthology | Next Track: Work- SN

It was your turn to host the yearly gathering of you and your sisters and it was never a thing taken lightly. Your sisters always believed they had the better of the deal, being the queens of sky and the sea. But who was the one with the true power, if not the queen of the Underworld, the queen of the souls and the damned?

A flash of light, followed by a thunderous clap, announced your eldest sister’s arrival. Zeus, ever the show-off, was the first to cast a discerning eye about your abode.

“Must this place always be so…” She lifted her lip in a sneer “...depressing?”

You tried with all your might but you couldn't see what she saw. The blue flames of your domain cast a pleasant light about the room, the bones of your enemies making perfect chairs. Souls you were currently torturing held all the delicacies your cook had prepared for the evening, in the most uncomfortable positions imaginable. You even had Cerberus napping at the entrance, to dissuade anyone from interrupting your soirée. 

“Always a pleasure, Zeus,” You said snidely.

Zeus ignored your barely-veiled barb and sat down on one of the skeletal chairs. “Where is Poseidon? I want to get this over with.”

Poseidon arrived with a whoosh of waves lapping at sand that had not been there previously. She primped her hair and smiled brightly, even though it never seemed to reach her eyes. “I’m here, I’m here, you can stop talking about me.”

You sighed heavily and took your seat just as Poseidon claimed her spot. You clapped for the souls to move into your sphere so that you could grab some delicious looking delicacies. “We weren’t talking about you, Poseidon.”

“Then what were you talking about?” Your middle sister insisted, eyes moving to Zeus for guidance.

“How absolutely dreary this place is. Remind me why I agreed that we would ever meet in the Underworld?” The goddess of olympia stressed the word Underworld like it was a dirty thing.

Poseidon giggled. “It’s only fair, sister, that we spread time between all realms. Although, you do have a point. Perhaps this is why Hades isn’t married.”

You rolled your eyes. Why yes, because Zeus demonstrated how amazing being married was. Poseidon wasn’t much better. Those two thought they were above the rules. You simply had no time for the games of courtship. You’d rather be in your realm, ruling over your souls, and sometimes causing havoc when you were bored.

“Assuredly,” Zeus agreed. “For who would take the vows when they would know that they would be condemned to never see sunlight again?”

Poseidon clapped her hands. “Imagine Seonghwa down here? Oh, he would simply perish like a wilting flower.”

You wrinkled your nose at the mention of the young God of Spring. He was the exact opposite of you in every regard. You barely had time to register that he was even a god, for his appearance was that of one of Zeus’s cupbearers, the ones she always stole away from some dreary mortal life so that she could have eye candy and make her husband, Hongjoong, jealous. 

Zeus had a look of triumph on her face. “Look at how she sneers at the thought of Seonghwa. Oh, darling sister, I’m afraid it is Seonghwa that would be the one turning you down.”

Poseidon’s eyes sharpened cruelly. “Oh, she is insulted, sister. She doesn’t believe you.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand? Don’t we have a festival to plan or--?”

Zeus stood up, thunderclaps interrupting you. “I bet that you couldn't convince Seonghwa to be your husband.”

Poseidon’s eyes raced back and forth between Zeus’s visage and your own, eager to see this fight go down.

You stood up, shadows around you beginning to grow and curl in anger. “You what?”

Zeus’s eyes lit up, iris’s the blinding characteristic of a lightning bolt, invoking her godly proclamation powers. “I’ll give you a year. If you can lure that poor man to be your husband then we will meet here for a century and we will stop besmirching your name and your realm.”

“Oh, that’s a good one!” Poseidon jumped up. Her eyes became a swirl of dark and light, similar to the ocean whipping itself up in a storm. The irony didn’t pass over your head.

“Fine,” You snapped. 

You knew your eyes were bottomless pits with a sharp blue on the outside of your iris. It was done. Not only was your name and your realm on the line, but perhaps if you did the unthinkable, Zeus and Poseidon would put some respect on your title. 

You were Queen of the Afterlife, Queen of the Damned and Queen of the Night, after all.

***

You chose the darkness of night to descend on Seonghwa. You weren’t about to give him the advantage of sunlight but you’d rather the comfort of the shadows to cling to you. 

You had a plan. It was one thing to have a trap for a human who was deserving of some soul-suffering. Seonghwa was innocent in terms of your sister’s machinations. But he was also a god, albeit a newly-minted one. You would have to be careful, but also, throw all of your powers into this. You were one of the big three, and you planned on showcasing it.

You had teleported through a portal of shadows and screams far from Seonghwa’s garden. He tended to live as his mother did, with the greenery of the world above. You almost didn’t spot him amongst the flowers he was tending, for his head of hair was a soft shade of pink that had no chance in your world. You almost mistook the low hum of his voice for the nighttime noise of the crickets. You truly had to get out more.

“Cerebus!” You bellowed.

Seonghwa stood up quickly, his eyes searching out who belonged to the voice.

“Apologies, Seonghwa!” You rushed through the brush. “My hound is hunting a soul for me. I do not mean to impose upon your realm.”

Seonghwa shook his head, his hair brushing his ears. “It is no problem at all.”

You cocked your head. “Did you perhaps see my hound or a human?”

Seonghwa’s equally pink lips parted in thought. “No, my lady, I have been tending to my flowers.”

You sighed unhappily. “If you will allow me a boon and use my powers in your realm, I would be indebted to you,” You curtsied deeply. 

Seonghwa rushed forward to grab your arms and pull you upwards. “Please, you bow to no one, Hades. It would be my honor to view the Queen of the Night work her magic.”

A tiny smile pulled at your lips before you banished it. Finally, someone recognized you. 

You grew to a height that would make any mortal cower in your presence. “I summon thee, Cerberus, the hound of hell, and any stray mortal soul, to come to your mistress,” You bellowed. You spread your arms wide, your dress spreading wide and becoming one with the night sky. 

Cerberus answered with a blood-curdling howl. You hoped she had found some fun in this. You had promised the lonely spirit a transfer from Tartaturs to Elysium for playing along. For there was no playing with your hound, who truly sought out an errant soul amongst the living. 

You shrunk back to “human” size and waited as Cerebus found you. She threw the soul that was whimpering in her mouth to one of her side heads, worrying it in her mouth. 

“There’s a good hellhound,” You cooed, scratching the middle head in praise.

“Is this… Cerberus?” Seonghwa’s eyes were wide with wonder.

The other side head, that wasn’t playing with the soul it had caught, sniffed the air as Seonghwa put his hand out. You expected one of the heads to snap at the god of spring but instead, Cerberus broke out into a happy dog smile. 

“Appearances may be deceiving,” You intoned, your voice coated with disappointment. “She guards the gates, as legends tell.”

And Cerebus licked Seonghwa’s face. You rolled your eyes. “Come, we must return to the Underworld, fearsome beast.” You snapped your fingers and Cerebus happily trotted behind you.

“I will have to take you to the Underworld and allow you to perform some of your own magic there,” You grinned, throwing the final sentence over your shoulder. “Oh, how I do miss flowers,” You said sadly, cupping a flower nearby.

You opened a portal, the eerie blue light from the Underworld leaking from it, waiting for Seonghwa to take the bait. 

“I…I could…” Seonghwa sounded conflicted; caught between a rock and a hard place. “Would you allow me to accompany you now?”

You turned, a look of surprise on your face. Faked, of course, for this was exactly what you had been waiting for. “You would follow the Goddess of the Underworld in the dark of night, after snatching a fleeing soul, into her realm?”

“I have never…” Seonghwa pressed his lips inwards. “I would like that very much.”

Cerberus was already on the other side of your portal, her head perked sideways in wonder. “Well, Cerberus, you guard the gate. Do you think Seonghwa is worthy?”

Cerberus’s main head barked and you laughed. “There you have it. Who am I to say no to that?”

Seonghwa looked pleased as he passed through your portal and into your realm, completely contradictory towards Poseidon’s earlier words. His eyes swept over the swirling soul vortex, your tower off in the distance, and all the horrors the Underworld can offer.

“Are we in Tartarus?” He wondered.

You nodded your head. “The soul I had Cerebus fetch was not one I could allow torture other mortals further.”

Seonghwa’s lips were parted in awe. “You protect them?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I will not allow a human to assume a mantle reserved for a god.”

Seonghwa nodded like he understood. “Where would you have me perform?”

You slowly smirked. “Careful how you choose your words, Godling,” You purred.

Seonghwa ducked his head, a faint blush upon his cheeks. “I simply mean--”

“Follow me.” You crooked your finger and with a sweep of your skirts, you began a slow walk towards the tower of Tartarus.

Outside of the Palace of the Underworld, you contemplated where Seonghwa could make some flowers grow. They would die almost instantly, but you thought perhaps the walkway that you often used to your daily rounds might work.

“Here will suffice,” You motioned along the pathway. You peered curiously at the God of Spring. “Are you sure you can do it here?”

Seonghwa had a look of determination on his face. “If I can’t, then do I truly deserve to be a god?”

Interesting.

Seonghwa’s hands began to glow golden. With his palms held out and fingers spread, he focused his powers. You could almost smell flowers opening up in the air and hear the birds chirping. And then, despite your convictions, flowers sprung from the dark earth. They were of an extraordinary white, something not seen in Tartarus. Surrounding them, they had petals spearing out behind them.

Seonghwa glanced at you, half proud, half shy. “They are called queen of the night.”

You bowed your head in acknowledgement. “God of Spring you are, but it seems you are not new to the subtleties of being a god.”

The sunshine beam of a smile that appeared on his face might have threatened to break the dark clouds of Tartarus themselves. If only it could, to be of aid to the newly-bloomed flowers. 

“It is sad then, that these shall surely wither away,” You lamented. 

“Not if I continue to tend to them,” Seonghwa insisted.

Ah, right into your trap. How perfect.

“Oh no, I could not ask that of you,” You shook your head.

“I insist,” Seonghwa said, his chin rising stubbornly. 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, continuing the illusion that you couldn't imagine why Seonghwa would come back to the Underworld. “You would do that?”

“For the flowers. Of course,”Seonghwa muttered softly. 

“Of course,” You agreed.

And so began the courtship between you and the God of Spring. You would fetch him to the Underworld to maintain your ever-growing garden and Seonghwa would ask questions about your realm. He seemed fascinated with what happened here in the Underworld. There was a quiet strength within Seonghwa that you had not recognized before. He would listen to you tell your tales, absorbing the world around him. 

You found yourself comparing him to a flower, like the ones that follow the sun as Apollo guides it though the sky. Such was Seonghwa as he spent time with you. You could tell he was falling for you, which befuddled you and amused you to no end. 

“Hades,” Seonghwa interrupted you softly.

You had been admiring a strikingly fuschia flower that had newly-bloomed in your garden. You raised your gaze, still leaning down towards the flower, fingertips stroking its petals. 

“Mmm?” You hummed in acknowledgement.

“Is there any chance that you could be convinced to stroke me like you do that flower?”

One corner of your lip quirked upwards and you cocked your head. “Are you envious of the flowers now?”

Seonghwa nodded his head, eyes big and pitiful. “I find myself shivering each time your fingers move up and down, admiring the beauty. Do I not also pose as a temptation to be touched?”

Seonghwa, in his delicate clothing that clung to his broad shoulders and slim waist, was not the typical man you looked to grind beneath your heel. 

You arched your eyebrow. “I'm not sure you would shiver so if you knew in what direction my proclivities lay.”

Seonghwa fell to his knees. His plush lips and strong nose tipped upwards to beseech you. “How will I know if you do not show me?”

You walked slowly towards Seonghwa, circling and considering. “This is true.”

“And yet?” Seonghwa’s neck craned to follow your path.

“The flowers here are night-blooming, Seonghwa,” You said as a hand carded through his hair for a moment. “Have you considered that you are not of that type?”

“Perhaps I am a seedling in the dark,” Seonghwa suggested. “What if I simply need the right nourishment to break through and sprout?”

Your hand tightened in his hair, wrenching his head upwards. Seonghwa whimpered in your rough hold. “And what if winter's harsh cold snuffs the life from you?”

You watched as Seonghwa’s Adam's apple bobbed against his strained neck. “It won't. I swear it won't.”

You leaned down to whisper into Seonghwa’s ear, almost just like you had been leaning over the flower only moments ago. “Will you be my pretty flower, Seonghwa? Will you tremble as I stroke your soft petals?”

Seonghwa whined. “Please please please,” he began to chant. “I wish to be at your mercy.”

“Very well,” you said in a clipped tone.

You released your hold on him and summoned a portal. Seonghwa slowly stood, unsure if this was a test or you were dismissing him. His cluelessness had to be an instinct to keep him alive, you were convinced of that. 

“It is time for you to go home now, Godling,” you said, gesturing to your portal. 

Seonghwa did as he was told but his eyes lingered on you as he passed, almost pleading with you to not send him away. But you were playing the long game, baiting Seonghwa down a spiral path that would eventually wind so tightly around him that there would be no escape. Then your sisters would never laugh behind their hands at you again.

The next time you visited Seonghwa to bring him to the Underworld, he sported a delicate white shirt that fell off one shoulder and tight pants. He was showing off his collarbones and tiny waist. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was seducing you.

You made sure to never be at arms length of him. Several times as he reached out to you, only for you to have your shadows deepen around you. Seonghwa’s hands passed through shadows instead of gripping flesh. He would shudder at the feeling. His pupils were blown and his breathing sped up as you played this game of cat and mouse. 

“Hades, please,” Seonghwa whined.

You shook your head, walking backwards through your still-alive garden. “Do you think you’ve earned being touched by the Queen of the Night?”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “What else can I do? I’ve created a garden where there was none.”

You nodded. “I admit, your talents are very pretty.”

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed and he twirled his finger, glowing gold with his power. Tendrils of soft greenery grew up around you, intertwining around your wrists. You could feel a tiny threat as thorns grew there as well. 

You raised an eyebrow in question. “Do you seek to trap me, Godling?”

Seonghwa stood before you, like a flower trembling amidst a gale. “Will you not gift me with your attention? Will you not show me what it’s like to be with you? Have I not dedicated many days to your welfare? I have proven that I am here to you.”

You pulled your hands from the vines. Their thorns tore at the sensitive skin along your inner arm. You could feel tiny rivulets of blood trailing down. You lifted your hand, and as you pushed Seonghwa’s hair out of his face, blood clung to it. 

“My attention bears much weight, Seonghwa. You do not know what you ask for,” You murmured softly. 

Seonghwa stared at you with such adoration. Your finger skimmed the side of his face, trailing more blood there. “I will bear it. I can do it. Please.”

You smeared your blood further along Seonghwa’s lips, making them go from a pretty pink shade to that of dark red. “Such price requires blood and a kiss. I give you one last chance to keep your freedom.”

Seonghwa’s tongue came out to lick his lips, following the bloody trail. “I accept.”

“Then so it will be,” You murmured before you captured his plush lips in a harsh kiss.

Seonghwa moaned into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist and drawing you closer to his body. His body was tight like a strung bow, tension in every line. Even his cock pushed up against your stomach, straining for release.

“My my, Seonghwa,” You breathed into his mouth. “Are you a little desperate?”

Seonghwa swallowed loudly. “I want you to tear me down with your teeth. I want you to mark me all over and claim me as your own. I don’t want to walk out of here without shaky legs and a smile on my lips.”

You leaned back to get a better view of Seonghwa’s face. “Oh really?”

Seonghwa’s cheeks sported a light blush. “Please.”

With a snap of your finger, a dome appeared around you two, hiding you in shadows amongst the flowers. “If I’m to have you, I want you amongst the pretty flowers you grew for me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa began to tremble again. “Am I one of them? Am I one of your pretty flowers?”

“Oh, Seonghwa,” You chuckle darkly. “How am I going to ruin such a pretty flower?”

“Please,” Seonghwa begged once again. “Ruin me.”

You pushed Seonghwa to the ground. His body pushed down onto the flowers and grass growing from the dark earth. You laid down beside him, elbow holding your head up as you traced his nipples through his thin shirt. 

“Did you wear this today for me, Seonghwa?” You wondered.

Seonghwa looked very guilty. “I did.”

Your finger made its way down his sternum and along his stomach. His breath hitched at the path your finger was taking. “Did you think you could wear something so scandalous and it would lure me in? What exactly did you imagine would happen?”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed as your finger moved lower to run along the impression of his cock in his tight pants. “I…thought perhaps… you would tear my clothes off me and ravage me.”

You couldn't help but smirk with one half of your lips. “Like an animal? Descend upon you and take you just as you are?”

Seonghwa’s hips bucked up as your finger, and just your solitary finger, ran up and down his length, searching for more friction. “Yes.” 

“I’m touching you now, isn’t that what you wanted?” You teased.

“Please. More,” Seonghwa begged.

“I like the sound of your begging,” You chuckled darkly. 

You gripped his cock tightly between your hands suddenly, making Seonghwa involuntarily cry out in both pain and pleasure. “Once I take this cock, it is mine, God of Spring. It will never enter another cunt ever again.”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together and nodded quickly in agreement.

So you unbuttoned Seonghwa’s tight pants, yanking them down past his ass and down his thighs. His cock was swollen and red, still so tight against his slender body. Your mouth filled with saliva at the simple thought of taking him in your mouth, so you did. 

Seonghwa’s fists clenched at the flowers and dirt under him as you took his entire length into your mouth. His back bowed at the sudden and intense sensation. 

“Ahhhhhhh!’ he cried out.

You swallowed so that your throat muscles could continue to stimulate him and he began to pant above you. “Wait, wait, too much, too soon, I--” 

It was no work to hold your mouth to the base of his length as he spilled his hot seed down your throat. Seonghwa thrusted weakly down your throat, riding his quick and fast high.

“Please give me another chance. I can perform better than that. I can last longer than that, I promise,” Seonghwa whined.

You pulled back so that you could allow air to pass down your throat but you kept your mouth around the head of Seonghwa’s cock. And then you sucked hard. 

Seonghwa’s body jerked at the feeling. The feeling of you milking him dry, after coming so quickly and hard, had him quivering.

But Seonghwa had desired you to ravish him, to devour him, and so even though his body fought with the sensations, he did not tug on your head to remove yourself from him. You sucked his softening cock until there was nothing left to clean. You did twirl your tongue around the head of his cock for good measure, causing him to jump again, just to make a point.

You climbed up Seonghwa’s body, his chest moving up and down while he tried to catch his breath. “You did well, Godling,” You praised him.

There were beautiful tears in Seonghwa’s eyes but they had not spilled. “I’ll be good for you,” He said hoarsely and you felt like your teeth lengthened at the sentence. 

You chuckled under your breath. “I have a feeling you will too.”

You sat up and that’s when Seonghwa’s hand went to your arm. “Please, don’t send me away.”

You helped Seonghwa button his pants back up and the dome that gave you two privacy faded away. 

“Flowers need sunlight,” You reminded him.

Seonghwa sat up, to be eye level with you. “The flowers that bloom here? They need moonlight. Am I not the same?”

“Seonghwa,” you said his name with admonishment. 

“Let me stay?” Seonghwa asked again. 

You remembered the stories your sisters would tell you. The ones that included having mortals and demi-gods lying in their beds, filled with ambrosia, ready to perform upon their command. Imagining Seonghwa like that, blankets draped artfully around his body, tightened your lower half. 

“I have a few bottles of Ambrosia,” You pretended to consider.

Seonghwa, well aware that the gods' wine kept a man hard for hours, maybe even days, widened his eyes but leaned against your arm. He carefully, tenderly, cautiously wrapped his arms around you. 

“I would do anything,” He whispered in your ear.

“Then that’s what we will do,” You bowed your head in acquiescence. 

For days, you had a godling in your bed and he never left. He let you cover his bronze body with bite marks and love bites. He let you scratch his back with your long nails. He let you take him again and again and again between your thighs; sometimes you withheld his orgasm and only sought your own release. You teased and tempted and trained him and Seonghwa met all the requirements. He fed all your lusts. You drove him to the brink of pain and pleasure and he only begged for more. 

But following this was the much more tempestuous and dangerous path. For as the garden grew around your tower, so did Seonghwa’s attachment to you. You saw it in the way he was out of your bedchambers. No matter your task for the day, he was intent at remaining at your side. And you were starting to believe that he wished nothing more than to remain there. 

You were even starting… to enjoy his company, beyond what he could stir between your thighs. 

The days in which you heard out the spirits, seeking a lesser punishment for their crimes or atonement for new ones, were the moments you looked forward to the most. Seonghwa would remain seated on the floor next to your throne. Cerberus, as always, stood behind it in all of her hellhound glory, humongous shape shadowing yours. You would comb Seonghwa’s hair, patting and fixing it, as he lay his cheek along your lap. Some days he could be clingier than normal, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his cheek to your stomach. He craved skinship and his long fingers would caress your calf, not in seduction but for connection. 

In truth, there were days you riled him up in order to listen to him whimper as his cock throbbed for hours without relief. He would rub his cheek against your thigh and promise many dark and debased acts if only you’d help relieve him. 

“Take me on the throne,” Seonghwa swallowed down a whine, whispering only loud enough for your ears. “Show everyone that I am yours.”

You turned a dark look at the current spirit that was trying to make a case that her grandchildren were important to the world of the living so she herself should be in Elysium. She shrunk in on herself slightly at your withering look. 

“No one can see your pretty cock but me, Flower,” You murmured, for his ears only. 

Seonghwa turned his head so that his eyes could meet yours--and you were hit with how hollow he appeared. His eyes were sunk in and his bronze skin was paling. He was losing his god abilities, even the flowers were beginning to struggle to remain alive in the Underworld. 

You were killing Seonghwa. You were not about to trap the man who made a flower garden in the Underworld just for you. He deserved more than a cold, despairing world. 

You stood up abruptly. “Court is dismissed. Everyone out.”

A cacophony arose from the spirits, having waited years if not decades for the chance to plead their case. They would have to reapply--or worse--go to the back of the line. 

You grew large in shape and the shadows extended until every blue flame was almost out. “YOU DARE QUESTION THE COMMAND OF YOUR QUEEN?”

The spirits fled, not wishing to be the target of your wrath. For good measure, Cerberus chased them out with a growl. She snapped at the receding heels, funneling your own sudden upset mood. 

Despite your monstrous state, Seonghwa’s gaze upon you remained adoring. You shrunk back to human size and sighed. This farce could continue no longer.

You summoned a portal right then and there. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in alarm. “You are sending me away?”

“Seonghwa, you are fading. You’ve had your fun, Godling. Now it is time for you to go home,” you said gently.

Seonghwa shook his head, throwing himself at your feet. “Please, no.”

You reached down and grabbed Seonghwa’s face. “Seonghwa. You are weakening here. You are not thriving. You had your test run but your theory is incorrect. You need the sun. You must go home.”

His eyes welled up and his bottom lip trembled. “Have I not pleased you?”

You sighed and rubbed your eyebrow. “Seonghwa, don’t do this.”

“I can--”

“Seonghwa!” You shouted. “Stop.”

“But I lo--”

Shadows wrapped around Seonghwa. One provided a gag, another circle his torso to restrain his arms, another along his legs. 

“Listen to me. You are dying, Seonghwa. I do not want you dead. If you die here, your mother will be on my doorstep and I am not going to bend any rules, for a God or no.”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed and his muffled words threatened to escape his gag.

“No, I will not hear any arguments. You’re going back. I banish you from the Underworld, God of Spring. Enjoy your flowers and sunshine.”

Your shadows guided Seonghwa’s body back to the realm of the living and then the portal closed.

Cerberus nudged your thigh and whimpered. You put a hand on her middle head. “He had to go, Cer.” She licked your palm and cried again. “It’s what’s best for him.”

Your days seemed a little emptier without Seonghwa. His constant presence had made you forget how lonely you had been previously. You cursed your sisters for breaking your soul. You were fine without Seonghwa! But now that you had lived a life with a companion, without one it seemed… hollow.

Your bed felt bigger without him. Your days were longer without him. 

Your mood became darker. You tortured and inflicted pain on more souls than you had when you first started your role as queen of the Underworld. Still the wails and blood did not satisfy you.

Just as you were using a cat o’nine tails on one particularly demented soul, you were blinded by a flash of lightning that opened a portal with a clap of thunder. 

“Hades, you must stop this madness!” Zeus declared, as she always did, as queen of Olympus.

You ignored her command for the most part. “I will reign in my domain as I see fit, sister.”

Zeus snarled angrily. “Not this, you fool, Seonghwa!”

You rolled your eyes. “I already sent the god of spring back.”

“That is the problem!” Zeus declared.

You lifted an eyebrow in question. “Were you not satisfied to win the bet? How you must have told everyone in your court about poor Hades, who will forever remain alone in her dreary and depressing Underworld?”

Zeus pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “It seems I was wrong.”

You recoiled backwards as if Zeus had physically slapped your face. “What in the name of the titans themselves are you talking about?!”

“You seem to have done such a convincing job of selling the position as Consort-Prince, that Seonghwa is inconsolable since you’ve banished him. Despite Demeter’s best attempts, every single growing entity has wilted. No amount of water or sun will help them grow or nourish.”

You slowly lowered the cat o'nine tails to the table where your torture tools sat. “What are you saying?” You said lowly.

“As much as this pains me, Hades, you made Seonghwa fall in love with you and the world is suffering because you’ve sent him away. You must recall him. You must make him your husband. There is more than a simple bet in the balance now.”

Zeus, for once in her fucking immortal life, was making sense. If you made Seonghwa your husband, if he ate the pomegranate fruit that would make him a citizen of the Underworld, he could remain at your side. You had not wanted to trap him in a bet but by the sounds of things, Seonghwa would not feel trapped.

“Alright. You can go now. I’ll do it,” you dismissed Zeus.

Zeus bristled for a moment before letting it go. “Thank you, sister. I owe you a debt then.”

You grinned, full of malice and ego. “Yes, yes you do.” You liked the sound of that.

Zeus flinched for a moment and then left your realm. You were quick to follow suit.

You breathed in and out deeply, preparing yourself, and then made a portal full of darkness and screams to find Seonghwa.

Your eyes widened in horror at what you stepped into. The garden where Seonghwa inhabited was a thing of death now. There was nothing green or colorful about it. In fact, as far as your eye could see, this place emanated more death than the Underworld itself.

You moved through the dead brush until you found the only thing of color there: Seonghwa. But even his pink shade was a pale imitation of when you had originally found him in his garden. His hair was pulled in every direction as if he was a mad man in mourning. Even his clothes, smudged with dirt and wrinkly, revealed his mental state. You felt a punch in the gut at how clearly distressed Seonghwa was. 

“Seonghwa?” You said his name hesitantly. 

Seonghwa gasped like he needed air and his head snapped upwards to meet your gaze. “Hades?” He said with a choke.

“You aren’t trying to outdo me as the queen of death, are you?” You asked with sarcasm.

Seonghwa stood up and rushed to your side. He raised his hand out to touch you and then brought it slowly down. Unshed tears filled the rims of his eyes and he swallowed many times over. “Are you really here?”

“I think my question is more pertinent, Godling. Why is there death everywhere?”

“I…” Seonghwa’s shoulder began to shake from oncoming sobs. “You were wrong. I did not need the sun and flowers.”

You sighed deeply through your nose. “How could you hurt all the flowers like this, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa’s lower lip quivered. “I can’t bring myself to maintain them. I have no will to live and so they do not as well. I can’t summon my powers anymore than I could keep your flowers growing. I am a night flower without its moon.”

You cupped Seonghwa’s face and he nuzzled into your touch. “You are such a demanding man, aren’t you?”

“I need you,” Seonghwa said simply, although his voice carried grief. 

“Will you bring back the flowers to life if I let you become my husband?” You offered.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened with surprise. “Your husband?”

You laughed under your breath. “How else are you to come back with me and live in my world. You must eat the pomegranate of the Underworld and then you may remain there. That is, if that is what you wish--”

“I wish it! I wish to be your husband. I wish to remain at your side for all of our immortal lives. I wish to sit at your feet while you pet me and--”

“Slow down, Seonghwa,” You said in an even tone. 

“Please take me back,” Seonghwa begged. 

“There is a stipulation. You will need to maintain your role. You will have to come back to your garden and revive the vegetation that has died in your absence, as is your responsibility.”

Seonghwa’s eyes shone with hope. “But I can reside with you in the Underworld otherwise? I can be yours?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Do not offer me the world and then threaten to take it away again,” Seonghwa whined.

You placed a hand on his chest to calm him and it seemed to ease his worry slightly. “Listen to me.”

Seonghwa nodded. His gaze turned attentive and adoring, the exact same look he would get when you would speak to him of the Underworld and how it worked. He was still the same godling that had fallen in love with you all those weeks ago. You felt your heart swell. 

“When I came to your garden, it was not because I was chasing down a mortal to take their soul to Tartarus. That day, Zeus and Poseidon bet that I could not lure you to become my husband because you are the god of spring and I the goddess of the Underworld. It was a petty bet, I must confess, but I was tired of my sisters’ insulting me and my realm. You were not someone I was interested in before the bet. But as you grew the flowers near my tower and you spent time with me, I came to grow fond for you. You have never feared me. You have the utmost respect for my realm and for me. You had become a lover that I did not know I wanted. Typically, I enjoy breaking men who think they are unbreakable. But you were willing to smash yourself against the cliffs for me and I had never believed such dedication could be real. It was my intent to trap you in a marriage with me but it seems like you are the one who trapped my heart instead. I owe you an apology for my malicious intentions. That is the reason why I sent you back. It has always been in my power to give you the pomegranate and seal the deal but I never wished to keep you in a place where you did not belong.”

Your hand curled over his heart into a fist. “That is the truth of it all.”

The air was heavy. You owed Seonghwa the truth before he became your husband. There was to be nothing between you but your shadows and his golden light, if you were to truly spend your immortal lives together. 

“Do you love me?” Seonghwa asked simply.

You gasped softly, his words hitting you like a true arrow of Cupid’s. You found yourself nodding. “I do.”

The same sunshine beam of a smile that Seonghwa had sported when you had praised him for growing the first set of flowers along the walkway to your tower filled his face at your admission. “Then that is all I care about.”

You frowned. “Seonghwa--”

Seonghwa put his hand over your own on his chest. “I love you. I have loved you the minute you stepped into my garden and made the world tremble at your dark beauty. I have loved you for allowing me to put flowers in the Underworld. I made love to you when you allowed me in your bed. I have loved you as I sat at your feet and watched you rule your realm. I have even loved you as you sent me away. And I will continue to love you. If you return that same amount of love, and will continue to let me live as I have with you, then that is all I care about.”

You opened a portal back to the Underworld immediately and Seonghwa bit down on his lip. “You won't ever make me leave again, right?”

“You must only leave for spring, Seonghwa. But other than your duties, I will never make you leave ever again,” you promised.

Seonghwa revived his garden and you married there with all of the gods in attendance.  You were surrounded by flowers once more, and of course, the most pretty of them all being your new husband. 

Zeus nodded resolutely at you, causing Hongjoong to peer curiously at his wife. The curiosity quickly changed when he narrowed his eyes as Zeus sighed, watching Seonghwa walk down the aisle to you as if Seonghwa was a treat she never got to taste. 

You fed Seonghwa a pomegranate from the Underworld. It was a dark thing, not like the ones from above. The seeds were so dark that it seemed, as Seonghwa bit into the fruit that you fed him, as if Seonghwa was biting into a heart and the venous blood was pouring down his chin and neck. It was truly the most lust-inducing image you had ever witnessed, and you had been privy to more than a few orgies in your day.

After the ceremony, you escorted your blushing groom to the Underworld. With your arms around his slim waist and his arms around your shoulder, you both came back home.

“Take me on the throne,” Seonghwa whispered into your ear. 

You lifted an eyebrow at your husband. “Truly?”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together and avoided your gaze. “Can I?”

You sighed and left Seonghwa’s arms. You meandered to your throne and sat down on it. You gripped your black dress that was more shadow than cloth and slowly raised the skirt until your legs were completely revealed. 

“You have to earn it first, Seonghwa,” You commanded him.

Seonghwa fell to his knees before your throne, broad shoulders pushing your legs apart. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Seonghwa mumbled to himself before running his tongue from your ass to your clit. 

Your hands found his pretty pink hair and tugged on them until he had the appearance of a madman. Seonghwa’s tongue explored your folds like he had to remember and retrace every part with the tip of his tongue. The noises he made were that of an eager pup whimpering for a teat; it sounded like he was feasting. 

“Seonghwa, you’re pussy drunk, have more decorum than that,” You couldn't help but tease. “You are prince-consort of the realm of the Underworld.”

Even upon lifting his head back from your cunt, which he easily allowed you to manhandle him so, his eyes were rolling into the back of his head and his tongue was out past his chin, searching for what remained of your slick on his own skin. 

You tutted at your husband. “Seonghwa, how are you going to perform your conjugal duties like this?”

Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered as he attempted to clear his lust-fog. “I can fuck you. I can.”

“With all that messy eating, you didn’t even make me come,” You clucked your tongue in disappointment. 

Seonghwa’s fingers began to fiddle with his pants, pulling the strings that kept him tight and taut against his stomach. Once his cock was free, it throbbed and Seonghwa whimpered. He braced himself between your legs, getting up to his feet, and put one hand against the back of the chair. 

You gripped Seonghwa’s cock harshly, squeezing and making him rut into your hand. “Must I do everything myself?” You muttered as you guided his long cock towards your hole.

Seonghwa pushed but missed your hole and you couldn't help but chuckle under your breath. You slapped his face gently. “Seonghwa!”

Seonghwa whined in the back of his throat. “It’s been weeks. I’m so needy for you.”

“Ah, fine.”

You pushed Seonghwa back, a heeled boot against his hip and stood up. You pointed your finger to your throne. “Sit!”

Seonghwa finally appeared to absorb your words. “But I--?”

Your eyes lit up with your god powers, lending a roar to your words. “I am not asking.”

Seonghwa sat on your throne and you cocked your head. He looked good with his pants pushed down to his thighs, cock hard against his stomach, hair disheveled and lips swollen. Perhaps you’d have to take him on your throne more often, if only to tease him about it later, making him hard and needy for you while you made him wait hours as you listened to the spirits of your realm.

You placed a knee on the outside of each of Seonghwa’s muscled thighs. Your dress whispered over his cock and he groaned at the slight friction. “I can’t believe you’re making the queen of night do all the work on our wedding night,” You tortured Seonghwa.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as you once again slicked up the head of his cock against your drenched folds. “I can’t help it. This is what you do to me. I am at your mercy.”

You laugh lowly in your throat. You run a nail down his exposed throat and down the centre of his torso. “If you were at my mercy, you would be covered in ropes and love bites and not had a mouth or cunt on your cock yet.”

Seonghwa groaned at your imagery. “Consume me.”

You sunk down on Seonghwa’s pretty cock slowly, enjoying the way his cockhead almost seemed to be made to open you up. Seonghwa, the good trained toy that he was, kept his hips still so that you were in complete control of the descent. Once your ass was flush with his thighs, you leaned forward.

“What did I tell you during our first time together, Godling?” You purred.

“You said…” Seonghwa swallowed loudly at the memory. “You said that once I entered your cunt, that you would never suffer another around me ever again.”

“You are mine,” You growled, capturing his plush lips in a bruising kiss. 

“I am yours,” Seonghwa cried out, fingers digging into the old, dark wood of your throne. 

You raised your body and then slid down his shaft, causing Seonghwa to gasp. His lower lip trembled and tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Oh, Seonghwa. Already?” You cooed, thumbs brushing his cheekbones.

“This is where I belong, my love,” Seonghwa whispered.

“We will never be separated ever again, it is my promise to you. Where darkness is, so is its flower.”

You fucked Seonghwa with great gusto, slamming yourself down his length over and over again. Seonghwa’s pitiful moans as you took him quickly and harshly were music to your ears. You kissed him through his delicious noises and his tears and soon you were taking pleasure from his cock. Once your pussy walls convulsed around him, Seonghwa was a goner, crying out into your mouth as he filled you up with his seed.

You rocked your hips, coming down from your high and coaxing Seonghwa through his. “There’s a good Godling. You came so well for me.”

Seonghwa panted, his chest heaving with the task. Sweat clung to his hairline and chest, appearing the perfect sex toy that had ever graced your bed. And now your throne. 

“Thank you,” He whimpered. “Thank you for having me as your husband. I will serve you, my love, in the most perfect capacity.”

“Seonghwa, put the energy of your poetic words into fucking me and perhaps it would mean more,” You teased with a grin on your face.

Seonghwa ducked his head, abashed but happy. “Yes, my love.”

🌼Apart of the Golden Hour Anthology | Next Track: Work- SN

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Hello!

Could you possibly do a cute opposites attract for Billy Hargrove? Not like a nerd reader, more like a flower child in a way. I think the idea would be very cute and funny.

I hope you have a great day!

•Interesting. I've never written something like this but I'm determined to be happy to try. In any case, I am ready to satisfy your request again. I want to point out how the word "flower child" stuck in my mind, making the reader a true flower child, in the literary sense. I hope you like it!

Sunflower

Billy Hargrove x FlowerChild!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The late warm spring afternoon in Hawkins looked spectacular. The flowers were blooming and the sweet breeze touched you making you feel like you were in a fairy tale. But the day had other plans in mind for you and you never thought you would find him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluff, slight angst? fem!reader, no use of Y/N, your surname is Williams, bad language, opposite attract, sigarettes, daddy issue.

𝐀/𝐍: Request from @unamused-boss ,I hope I have satisfied your request! I apologize for any errors and I also hope that I have exceeded your expectations. Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog! Hope you enjoy this one. (DIVIDER NOT MINE) word count: 1.9K

It was a late afternoon in Hawkins. Spring had just begun and the flowers had just bloomed, coloring an isolated part of the forest forgotten by everyone. It was like an enchanted place, you had to go through the woods to get there but you didn't mind walking a bit. It felt like a real paradise, it was like your secret place. No one could get there, only you knew how to get in and you knew how to get out.

Every day after school you go there. School could be hard and going there among the greenery and flowers made you happy and let your emotions shine through.

The flowers that surrounded you were all sunflowers, a truly infinite field, with the presence of a few daisies.

You had always been a girl with elegant feminine tastes, high grades but also a strong and difficult character. Nothing could make you happier than nature and flowers in general. You had a nice green thumb, you knew how to grow and plant. This is due to the fact that your uncle worked for a long time in the countryside and when you went to visit him for the holidays there was always something new to learn.

Today you headed there once again, full of happiness. The sun warmed you as you walked through the green tall grass. You sat down, letting the fresh air and surrounding sounds carry you away. The wind, the birds singing..."Holy shit!" you heard in the distance. You reopened your eyes in confusion and saw something you never expected to see. Someone had managed to get to your secret place. The worst thing? It was Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove was a boy who went to the same school as you, he was lazy, didn't work hard at school and only thought about having fun and going to parties drinking like crazy. Besides this, he was also a very attractive boy, with long blond curls and crystal blue eyes and a nice physique. In short, aesthetically he was very handsome, you couldn't deny it, but otherwise he wasn't really your type, he was your opposite, you couldn't hope to get along with him.

You hadn't spoken to him much, you had only tutored him last year to help him with his grades. Needless to say, he tried to persuade you by convincing you to do his homework but luckily you were smarter than him. Now he had improved, but it was clear that he didn't want to study or think about his future.

From the way he was fidgeting you could tell he got lost "Hey!" He screamed as soon as he saw you, most likely he didn't recognize you. You stood up from where you were sitting as the skirt of your white dress fluttered. Billy looked at your figure, you were more enchanting than ever and perhaps he had never noticed it until now. You got closer and Billy did the same thing. "Look who's here, Williams." he said sarcastically "Nice to see you Hargorve" you also added a note of sarcasm but still keeping a certain lightness in your words "You can call me Billy" he winked at you and you rolled your eyes.

To be clear. You don't hate him. You know he was teasing you and obviously you didn't get carried away by his games. He was just different and as much as you might hope for redemption from him, you had to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the same old bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had is gone.

"Did you get lost by any chance?" You asked looking at the field and he took a cigarette out of his pocket and you ignored him "What do you say? Do you think I'm a guy who loves remote places?" He looked at you with an obvious look as he lit his cigarette. The nauseating smell of tobacco pervaded you while with one hand you tried to get rid of the bad smell "No, but apparently you love the woods. In short, to come here you have to go through the woods, so excuse me if I ask you, but what do were you doing there?" Billy didn't answer you for a moment, he could have said "it's none of your business" or "Don't mind any fucking business that doesn't concern you Williams" in a more vulgar way, but he didn't. Even though he could be harsh, he wasn't that bad after all and it wasn't appropriate to use such forced language in front of a damsel.

"I was... walking" he didn't add anything else while his curls fluttered a little from here to there. From his tone you felt like he wanted to tell you something, but he decided not to. Maybe he had a rough day? Or maybe he's just in a bad mood? You've started to speculate. Although curious about what that walk meant, you decided not to say anything else and responded with a simple "Okay" and then silence fell.

"And you? Why are you here? Is the little damsel lost too?" You crossed your arms at his typical womanizer nickname "Oh no. I'm not lost. I come here often" He raised an eyebrow as he blew smoke from his plump lips "Why? What's great about being here looking at nothing?" You laughed slightly "You can't look at anything! Being here relaxes me and helps me to... detach myself from reality" you said the last words with a sense of sadness.

Life could be really mean and even cruel, and the worst thing is when you have no one to ask for help. When you think that nothing can help you get up and move forward, but in the end you understand that even something abstract or something concrete like an object, or anything that is not human can help you in your difficulties. Yours was nature, this secret place of yours that you wished you had discovered sooner. Few perhaps couldn't understand what you find so beautiful in plants or landscapes, and honestly not even you could explain it. Billy, on the other hand, remained silent and looked at you and then threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his foot "Nonsense, you can't detach yourself from reality" his tone was serious and you looked at his features, he was angry? No. He was injured.

"As much as you try, reality is always there, you can't ignore it, much less detach yourself from it..." he continued and then he met your eyes and let out a cough "...so, Here. I find it difficult to understand what you find here Williams, maybe you're strange" he finished the sentence as if nothing had happened, as if what he had said before didn't matter. You approached him and Billy looked at you carefully "Can't you? Or maybe you don't want to?" Hargrove looked at you as if shocked "From the way you speak it's as if you want to detach yourself from reality, but you decide not to, is it perhaps because you're more worried about what happens in reality? As if every little distraction could cause something bad than not can you ignore it?" At that moment, a face never known to you formed on the face of the boy with golden curls, a different Billy you had never seen before. It was like vulnerable...

“I'm sorry, maybe this makes you uncomfortable.” You panicked. You hadn't even realized your words let alone that maybe it might make Billy uncomfortable in some way. You tried to compose yourself and walked away, changing the subject "Now I can take you back out of the woods, I know the way to-"

“My father” you were interrupted by his voice which now seemed to have taken on a different tone “What?”

"My father i can't ignore." You didn't say anything, letting him continue "I always tried to think about other things, maybe focusing on going out for parties or going to basketball games. But when I did that, my father made my life even worse, making it total shit" the wind blew was lowered and Billy in the meantime leaned with his back on a nearby tree "You're right when you say that 'I would like to detach myself from reality but I can't' because I realized that I can't do it..." his words were so genuine, so sincere, but at the same time so suffering. It was as if the Billy you knew wasn't there. They weren't his words, yet they came out of his mouth.

Instinctively you placed your light hand on his forearm and he looked back into your eyes "It's never too late to try again Billy. Don't let just one person ruin you, because then you'll end up regretting it" you replied and then you smiled. He wasn't convinced, but you were willing to let him know. You gently grabbed his hand and he let you do it, as if he was enchanted by your touch "Come with me" you said and together you walked through what was the field of sunflowers.

"You know, the first time I ended up here I thought how the day couldn't get any worse. I was lost too. But I don't think I found a better place to be" the blue-eyed boy looked around and he was like carefree "Here you don't have to fear anything, here you are safe and not even your father can hurt you" you reassured him and your hands melted. Hargrove continued to remain silent and then sat up enjoying the wind caressing his face and simply nodded.

"Can I tell you something Williams?" You nodded "Sure" he got up and took a sunflower and cut off the stem. You felt bad when the flowers were pulled down but you decided not to say anything. He looked at it carefully and then glanced at you "You like flowers right?" You nodded again "So much" Billy continued to stare at you and then with his free hand he placed a lock of your hair behind your ear, placing the flower in the same place "Then you will know what the sunflower means" your cheeks turned red admiring Billy's face with enchantment "I'll give it to you, it suits you" your heart stopped beating for a moment when the boy with golden curls smiled at you and then walked away.

You watched his figure. The sunflower symbolized the sun, therefore the light of life. When you gave a sunflower to a person it was to tell them how sunny and cheerful they are. You didn't think Billy was capable of such a gesture or even that he knew the meaning of the flower. Apparently you didn't know Billy Hargrove for all intents and purposes.

What was it you said? "As much as you could hope for redemption from him, did you have to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the usual bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had was lost?" It turns out you were very wrong.

"So, will you help me out of the woods or not?" He turned around noticing that you weren't following him "Yes" You shook your head coming back to earth "You must not tell anyone what I told you, I would like it to stay between us, clear Williams?" You nodded, laughing.

From that day on you began to see Billy Hargrove with different eyes.

[bigfan-fanfic]

In For a Scare (Male!Reader x Josh Washington)

@inhumanshadows Until Dawn!Happy AU aka nothing bad happens! Josh washington x male reader. The gang goes up to the lodge for Halloween weekend and us and josh are setting up for Halloween and being all cute, earning fake vomit noises from his sister. And maybe him trying to scare us but it doesn’t work.

"Josh. Joshua! Chill." you call, breaking your boyfriend's trance.

Josh starts, yelping a little.

He's been busy turning the lodge into a little Halloween wonderland, full of cobwebs and fake blood and scarecrows on mechanisms to spring out.

He's a little antsy because usually he does the annual haunted house party at his own, but it being a few years into college, his parents are having their own shindig, meaning he needed to change the venue.

"Babe." Josh gives you a little kiss, then starts to corral you back towards the kitchen. "I can't let you see into the house before we get started! That defeats the purpose."

"You didn't respond when I called you to have lunch." you chuckle. "I came to rescue you from the hypnosis of scares."

He giggles as you waggle your fingers in a mock-spooky way.

Hannah chuckles from the kitchen. "He made you a whole-ass patty melt."

Beth groans. "Are they being cute? Warn me."

Beth's been bummed since Sam couldn't make it up before the others. Once they got together in college, she's always tried to involve her in things.

Hannah laughs. "Absolutely vomit-inducing. I think they're macking out."

Josh grunts as he strides into the kitchen. "'Macking out'? Who says that?"

"Whatever, Mister 'Bone Zone.'"

Beth sighs. "So, is he done with the decorating yet?"

"I saw him building something, so definitely in final stages." You answer sarcastically. You playfully sit Josh down at a stool and cage him in with your arms, leaning against his back and resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Ooh, is that a jack-o-lantern in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" he jokes, making Hannah and Beth groan in disgust.

"Eat. Or I'll wrap you up in your own fake cobwebs."

"Promises, promises," Josh jokes, before stealing a kiss. "You take such good care of me."

The annual Blackwood Lodge friend getaway hasn't been held in a few years, seeing as how most everyone separated for college and work.

But things worked out this year.

Maybe that's why Josh is so worked up to make this perfect.

It's finally no longer tense with Jess and Emily - they made up after being in a long-winded chain of relationships with Matt and Mike that nobody was happy with, finally ending Jess and Matt together.

Chris and Ashley tried for a while, before amicably splitting, better as friends.

They arrive one by one, with Sam making it and planting a big kiss on Beth's lips to make up for her tardiness.

"Alright. Haunted house first, then hanging out - it's tradition!" Josh declares, before pulling out a bunch of matchsticks of varying length. You divide into pairs based on matching lengths.

To no one's surprise, you end up with Josh.

"Hah!" Mike grins. "If they don't come back, we know what's goin on!"

You roll your eyes, as Chris high fives him. He and Chris got put together because they both have the highest pitched screams of fright.

When it's your turn, Josh takes you through the corridors of his scare setup, sort of deflating as he realizes you're not scared at all by the spooky ambiance.

Instead you compliment him on how well-engineered the whole thing is.

Even the remarkably well-disguised pressure plate to trigger the scarecrow jumpscare doesn't work.

He's noticeably less chipper when you reach the end, and you pull him aside.

"What's wrong, Josh?" you whisper.

"I... you weren't scared?"

You chuckle. "Aww, were you sad I didn't get frightened?"

He nods, and you kiss his cheek.

"Babe... I didn't get frightened because I was with you. You know I feel safe with you."

He melts then, mollified. "Cause I'm such a big tough guy?"

"Because I love you."

He freezes, and then gives you a lopsided grin. "I love you too."

"Bleccch!" Hannah yells, coming up behind you and making you both jump. "We have guests, Josh!"

He sheepishly leads you out to gather the gang for the real party and to receive praise on all the scares he got out of them.

And he doesn't leave your side the whole night.

Happy to be your safe haven.

Even if that means giving up some scares.

[cressidagrey]

you'll be made of ashes too

Summary:

Elain Archeron makes the most beautiful bride.

Azriel...Azriel copes. 

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Azriel has a horrible time

Notes:

Mostly Canon Compliant Through A Court of Silver Flame including the Azriel Bonus Chapter with some teeny tiny changes, which are explained in the story (a difference in the necklace arc). Set around 1 year into the future from that point, where it veers off wildly.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Elain Archeron was the most beautiful bride the world had ever seen. 

Azriel was sure of that . 

A flower meadow come to life , clad in a white dress that was shot through with her favourite blooms, sparkling with every step she took. Hair falling down her back like spun gold, whiskey brown eyes filled with the kind of happiness that nothing could touch. 

She was irrevocably happy as she married her husband. 

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind how much she adored him as she gazed at him with such love in her eyes. 

Lucien looked at her in awe as if she were a precious, precious thing he didn't deserve. 

Azriel watched from the shadows as the person he loved found her happily ever after with somebody other than him. 

Elain Archeron married Lucien Vanserra on a gorgeous spring day in the garden of his townhouse in Velaris. 

The garden bloomed with the couple’s love and Elain’s love for the flowers that she had planted, roses and lilies and daffodils. A whole ocean of them, blooming brightly for their mistress. 

Azriel watched. 

It was all he could do. 

All he had done over the last year as Elain and Lucien had fallen in love. 

After that catastrophic solstice. 

That would-be kiss. When Azriel still thought that maybe…maybe he had a chance. 

He hadn’t. 

Rhys had made sure of that. 

So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her. 

Like that was all he had wanted from her. 

Like that was all Azriel was good for. All that he wanted. It hadn’t even passed Rhys’ mind that Azriel had actual feelings for Elain. Or maybe it had and he hadn’t cared. Azriel didn’t know which was worse. 

But it hadn’t mattered either way, because Rhys had pulled rank. It hadn’t been his brother saying these words, but the High Lord of the Night Court. 

What Azriel wanted…it hadn’t mattered. 

Not that it ever had before. 

He should get used to that by now. 

He had followed that order. What else was he supposed to do? He had left. Left their friendship in tatters…and Feyre had played matchmaker. Elain had moved on. Lucien had a chance. They had fallen in love. 

Just like the cauldron had wanted. 

He had gotten to see that every family dinner he attended, even when his attendance got rarer and rarer. 

Saw how Elain, beautiful Elain bloomed under Lucien’s attention. When Azriel could stomach to look at her. When there wasn’t Rhys reminding him with harsh words if he so much as dared to look at her for too long.  

He stopped coming so often.

It was better that way. 

The question was just for whom. 

He thought that maybe if he didn’t go…then it wouldn’t quite hurt so much. But that wasn’t true. It still hurt. Even more maybe. 

Likes somebody cleaved his chest open and burned out his heart. 

And then they had announced their wish to marry and…well. 

That was it then. 

The people around him found their happily ever after. 

Rhys and Feyre. 

Cassian and Nesta. 

And now…now Elain and Lucien. 

It seemed like the cauldron knew what it was doing after all, didn’t it? 

There weren’t even words that could describe his bitterness. And he cut off that line of thought before it could…result in anything unpleasant. 

Not now. 

Not here. Not where Rhys could hear.

He could feel his shadows curl against him as the evening progressed. Trying to offer him any comfort they could, regardless of how little it was. They slithered against every bit of skin they could find, cloaking him in darkness underneath his clothing, as he was reduced to watching. 

Mor pulled him to dance once, because, of course, she did. 

Morrigan. 

So beautiful, so unattainable. Pining after her had been safe, because why not want the unattainable? 

It wasn’t like he had ever really had a chance with her. And a part of him had known that from the start. 

Morrigan had been unattainable. (And so Azriel hadn’t…hadn’t needed to think about it. Not really. Whether he deserved her or not, because it was Mor and he wouldn’t be able to have her anyway.)

But with Elain…with Elain…Azriel had thought he had a chance. 

Elain in all her beauty and softness and gentleness…Everything good in the world…He had seen her and he had fallen in love. 

And then it had been taken from him before he had ever had a chance to go for it. 

He watched. The Bride and Groom. The friends and family surrounding them. 

He slipped into the shadows because that was the one comfort he had right there. The one thing that he could do. 

He waited and he watched…he saw Nyx in Feyre’s arms, looking halfway to sleep already, saw Feyre watching the other Faes dancing… He slunk out of the shadows. They followed along with him. 

They had clung tighter to him over the last months, ever since that solstice, slipping underneath his leathers, clinging to his wrists and ankles, like they wanted to assure him that they were there. Or maybe to shackle him. 

He wasn’t sure anymore. 

Not anymore. 

He didn’t care anymore either. 

“I can take him,” he offered to Feyre. Holding out his hands for his nephew. He could do that. Hold him. He didn’t want to dance. He wanted to go back to the shadows. 

She exchanged a look with Rhys. “Thank you, Az,” Rhys said as Feyra passed Nyx over without hesitation. Azril took him, just about a year old, wings sleepily fluttering as Nyx yawned and moved closer to him. 

“Good boy, Nyxie,” Feyra whispered before she grasped her mate’s hand and pulled him towards the fun part of the party. Azriel quietly swayed in place, Nyx sleeping against his shoulder, a scarred hand gently holding him in place. 

He wondered if Nyx was ever going to look at them in disgust. 

They were dripping in blood, but for just a moment, he could forget that. 

He forgot all of that. 

Until he felt nothing, was nothing at all. 

He was good at that. 

If he wasn’t…well, then he wouldn’t be there anymore. Then Azriel would have ended his horrible existence already. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it through half a millennia of life. 

Or especially over the last year. 

Sometimes he sparred with Cassian and the instinct of self-preservation wasn’t there anymore. He wondered what would happen if he just…stopped to fight back. 

He never did. He wouldn’t hear the end of it from Cass. 

But the thought was there as he watched the love of his life falling in love with another male. 

Nyx slept until his parents returned… until it was late enough that Azriel wasn’t the first person to go…until Cassian was drunk enough that he didn’t try to get Azriel to get drunk as well. 

He said his goodbyes. 

Although it felt like he was ripping out his heart, he forced a smile on his face as he congratulated Elain and Lucien. She smiled at him. He wanted to hoard that smile away somewhere, wished it was…wished it was there on her face for another reason entirely. 

But it wasn’t. 

It didn’t matter. His pain didn’t matter. 

It never had. 

It never would. 

And then, finally…He let the shadows take him. 

He resurfaced in the forest, feet away from his house. 

His house. Because as much as he loved Cassian, spending time with him and Nesta at The House of Wind was not his version of a fun time. Especially not with everything that had gone down. 

Being surrounded by a freshly mated pair, watching his brother being so utterly…in love and happy…Somebody thrust a knife into his chest and twisted. 

And so he had bought this house, hidden away…still in Velaris, on the outskirts, built into the mountains, surrounded by forest…

Alone. 

Nobody would hear him scream. The wards would take care of that.

He staggered as he hit the ground. 

And then Azriel gave up trying to push it all away from him. 

It didn’t matter anymore. Rhysand was far away enough from him that he wasn’t going to be the witness to Azriel…falling apart. 

Nobody would be the witness. Just the forest and the sky and stars. 

The shadows converged upon him.

Maybe it should scare him, but it never had. They talked to him, told him stories… were always there, even when nobody else was. The shadows were a part of him as true as his right hand was. 

And right now they muffled his screams as he bellowed into the sky. Pain apparent in every single second of it, as he screamed his pain and grief into the void. 

The shadows tried to comfort him. They always did. Many voiced, bundled into one. Master…

They tried. 

But even they couldn’t stop the pain that threatened to rip him apart.  

Azriel thought he knew pain.

Of course, he did. 

He just needed to look down at his hands to get a reminder. Grotesque, half-flayed skin that covered his knuckles. Every winter they hurt. It didn’t matter that it had been 500 years since he first received these scars. 

The pain of having his wing tied up, two emaciated things weakly, uselessly hanging off his back…he remembered the phantom of that every time he stretched them nowadays. 

And then there were dozens and hundreds of other pains…scrapes and bruises, broken bones from practice gone wrong, knife wounds and sword nicks…ash arrows. 

He knew it all. He had experienced it all.

Physical pain and emotional one as well. 

Born a bastard, step-brothers loving to torment him…spending the first years of his life in a dark cell without even a window…seeing his mother one hour a week, used by his father to hurt his mother… He had lived through all of it. 

But somehow a part of him had believed that maybe…maybe that was over now. He had found and fought for his family. Right? 

And still, somehow, losing Elain was…Losing Elain was the pinnacle of half a millennia of torture. 

He screamed. 

He didn’t know how long it lasted. Did it matter?

Not really. Nothing mattered anymore.

Nothing mattered as he cried and sobbed and railed against the forest ground, pounding it with his fists, burying them in the damp ground…

For the first time in his life, Azriel thought…that maybe giving it all up was worth it. 

Why not? What did it matter? 

All life had for him was more pain. The cauldron may have given other faes their perfect mate. Not him. 

Who would even care ? 

His brothers? Sure, for a moment. But they had mates that would take care of them. They had each other.  They wouldn’t be alone. Everybody seemingly had somebody . 

Just Azriel. He was…alone. 

Master isn’t alone!

Right not alone. 

The shadows weren’t amused by that thought at all, poking him in the ribs. He wanted to laugh at how sharply they disagreed. 

Normally, he was disciplined about them. He never let them talk to him like that, berate him into anything…but the last year he had depended on them…more often. Let them shoulder the brute of…everything that had gone on. Let them hiss comforting things to him and complain about Rhys…let him feel like maybe he wasn’t the only one who thought something was unfair. 

Shadowsingers were rare for a reason. They died young because they couldn’t live with the incessant hissing of the shadows surrounding them. And Azriel…he wallowed in them. 

Why not? What did it matter?

He stared unseeing into the night sky. 

He should get in the house. He didn’t want to. 

The shadows slivered up, against his neck, rubbing against his skin. They never felt hot or cold to the touch, just a velvety sensation…not unlike a snake. He couldn’t even remember the last time another person had touched him like that. It must have been decades ago.

Master should go into the house, they whispered. Master needs to rest. 

(Did he mention that they could be surprisingly pushy? But did it matter? Not really.)

He wanted to protest. Why did it matter? 

It didn’t. 

None of it did. 

And his chest still felt like it was caving in.

Master…Master, please.

Even his shadows were worried about him. That was the only reason he could fathom why they would ask him something like that. Soft. Imploring. 

Like…Like a friend? Or a lover? 

He forced himself up from that forest floor. The shadows gently pressed down onto his body, nearly like they wanted to praise him. Good, Master. 

He trudged up into his house. 

Open the door, the shadows whispered. Master, open the door. 

He opened the door

He hadn’t even bothered to furnish it.  He had survived a childhood with nary a bed, so what did it matter now? Neither he nor the house were anything more than empty shells.

He could have used magic to make it inviting, to light the fireplace, to maybe do something that wasn’t just opening the door…but it was all he could do. 

The house was dark. 

That was alright. 

Darkness was what he knew. Darkness protected him. 

Always had, ever since his childhood cell. Why change it now? It didn’t…

The shadows spilled into the house and he stepped in after them. Pulling his jacket off, his shirt…all of it muddy with forest grounds. He never wanted to wear it again. Didn’t want to ever remember this night. Didn’t want…Didn’t want to live through this anymore. 

That was as far as he came. 

He didn’t want to go further into the house. He didn’t. 

So he just collapsed into one corner, wings curled protectively around himself. 

He had sat there that morning, trying to force himself to attend the wedding. 

He had done it. Pure willpower. Or maybe stubbornness. He had been known for his stubbornness for centuries, after all. But now there was no more stubbornness left. There was nothing left anymore. 

The shadows swirled around him, like even they didn’t know what to do anymore. He thought about sending them away, but he couldn’t. They were the one comfort he had. 

What did it matter? 

What did that say about him ? 

He closed his eyes. 

He couldn’t help but see Elain. 

It was all there in front of him, every moment they had shared. Every conversation they had. Every smile she had gifted him with. 

The headache powder she had given him…He had never used it. He had stared at it when he couldn’t sleep, he had kept it on his bedside table in the House of Wind and…It had been comforting. For months it had been comforting. How often had he held it in his hands and tried to smell if maybe there was still a whiff of Jasmine and Honey clinging to it?

The pair of earplugs meant as a joke to help with the noises of Cassian and Nesta’s nightly activities…The Rosequartz necklace he had given her. Or tried to give her. Before it all went to…when she had given it back to him, he had wanted to return it to the shop he had bought it from first but then finally he had hung onto it.

He had held it in his scarred hands so often, thinking about how he didn’t deserve to even look at the beauty before him. 

And then they had announced their wedding and in a fit of rage, he had thrown all three things into the Sedra. 

He shouldn’t have done that. 

But he was already a monster, so what did it matter?

There had been no gifts this year. 

It was better that way. 

The tears fell down his face but he couldn’t even bother the energy to wipe them away anymore. 

Tomorrow he was supposed to do his job. Azriel had no idea how he should do that when it felt like a knife was lodged into his chest. 

He would get used to it. He would. 

He always did. 

It had been a crazy hope anyway. 

Monsters like him didn’t get…what they wanted. They got what they deserved . 

And Azriel knew that he simply wasn’t good enough for a cauldron-blessed mate. 

He closed his eyes, tipping his head against the wall. The shadows seemingly pulled tighter against him, trying to cover him whole…they had done the same back then as well, trying to offset the lack of a blanket with their very presence. 

Master…Master, go to sleep, they whispered to him, the voice, their many voices, an echo. Soft, indulging…trying to be comforting. 

He wouldn’t be able to sleep. He knew that. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, he didn’t want to sleep, not to be greeted with nightmares and memories. 

He didn’t know what was worse: The things he had done or the things he hadn’t. 

He had drenched his hands in blood to protect the Night Court and Prythian. Or at least that’s what Azriel told himself. To pretend that the things he had done were…just. Not right, never right, but maybe he had a good enough reason to do what needed to be done. 

He was an expert at that after all. 

Cloaked in shadows, that whispered the secrets of the land to him, with Truthteller on his thigh…he was the Night Courts spymaster after all. 

He did what needed to be done. Until he felt nothing, was nothing. 

It was all he could do after all. And still, he knew…He was simply not good enough. 

Not good enough. 

The words followed him since he could think. Born as the bastard son of an Illyrian noble who was well known for his cruelty and not much else, used as punishment for his mother and a plaything for his half brothers…not good enough for a stepmother that kept him locked away in a cell without even a window. 

Not good enough once he reached Windhaven camp, without even knowing the one thing that every Illaryan should know…how to fly. 

Not good enough . 

He wished he was like Cassian, had his brash extroverted personality, believing in the good of people…he wished he was like Rhysand, a powerhouse with mythical powers, who had that inbred arrogance….

Not good enough. 

He was neither. 

He just…existed. Surrounded by the shadows that always surrounded him, the one thing that he could count on that would never leave him. 

They pulsed around him like they tried to promise him that they would stay with him. 

That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Back to only his shadows as a company, just like in his cell. There was some humour in it, he was sure. But then, in his cell, he had known that every day would be worse than the day before. Outside of it…outside of it, he had hoped that day one day there would be…more. 

He had been wrong. 

So back into the cell with him. 

Sometimes he wished that he really felt nothing. He was good at pretending. Of course, he was. He was a spy. 

He was good at pushing it all away until he felt nothing, was nothing…

But still, he felt things. 

He didn’t know if it was love, didn’t know if he was capable of love at all. He wondered if his brothers knew that. Maybe that’s why Rhys had warned him off. Elain deserved better than him. Rhys must have known. 

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid…

Master, stop, the shadows whispered, tightening around him. A reminder perhaps? That they were there? Wouldn’t leave him? Would be there even if nobody else was? 

He wanted to thank them. He couldn’t. 

He could just feel the pain deep within him, welling up once again. 

It didn’t matter. 

Not anymore. 

Though now…now with Elain happily married, with his own heart burned out of his chest…maybe finally he would get that.

Nothing . 

An existence bookended by nothing. 

He would do his job. His duty. For the Night Court, for Pyrithian. 

Of course, he would. 

But if…if something happened to him…then that was alright as well. 

It was. 

He felt nothing. 

He was nothing. 

What did it matter?

It didn’t. 

It never would.