#i always thought they were white or like pastel green

[very-small-giant]

completely forgot to post him here but anyway!! bunny wataru (for a trade with @phantasma-timiana)

[princessbrunette]

HOLD ME, KISS ME ♡

♪ the little dippers — forever ♪

WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!

pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡

synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.

cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡

“Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”

Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.

Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.

Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.

The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.

It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.

Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.

Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.

Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.

At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.

You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.

The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.

You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.

He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.

He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.

Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.

So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.

“Jesus.”

This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.

With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.

“Does anyone know I’m in here?”

“No, I—”

“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”

He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.

“…Hi?”

“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?

“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.

You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn’t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.

He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.

“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”

You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.

“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.

“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.

He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.

You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.

He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.

“Do you have a name, mister?”

He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”

You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.

“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”

“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”

You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.

“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.

“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.

As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.

He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.

He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.

“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.

“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”

He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.

“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.

Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.

“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.

“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.

“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”

He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.

The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.

John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.

“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.

“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.

You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.

“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.

“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.

You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.

“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”

A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.

Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.

“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.

“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.

“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.

“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.

You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”

“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.

When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”

The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.

“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.

You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.

You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”

“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.

His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.

You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.

He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”

You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.

John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.

The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.

Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.

“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?”

He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”

You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”

“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.

“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.

He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.

“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.

“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.

“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.

When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.

He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.

“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.

“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.

As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.

He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.

He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.

“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.

“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”

He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.

“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, good.”

His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.

“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.

“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.

“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.

“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.

He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.

This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.

“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.

His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.

He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.

“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”

“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.

Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”

You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.

“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.

“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.

As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.

“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”

You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.

“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”

“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.

“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”

He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.

“Uh-huh.”

When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.

He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.

There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.

“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.

“Feel okay, gorgeous?”

You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.

As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.

You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?

Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.

“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.

There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.

“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.

“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.

“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”

You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.

He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.

“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.

“Mhm!”

“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.

“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.

He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.

Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.

Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.

“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.

His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.

“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.

“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.

[eowynstwin]

Blackbird, Fly - Two

Cowboy Gaz x mail order bride—only, not his. After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to marry him. It becomes clear to you that something is bothering him—perhaps it has something to do with you. previous masterlist ao3 next

Kyle Garrick—who instructs you to call him Gaz, explaining it as a nickname—drives you out of town in a two-horse wagon. The countryside is dyed in pastels by the softening light of a just-setting sun, every bit as beautiful as Hans had written when he told you about it.

Like a painting, he said. Everywhere you look could be framed in gold. I wake up every day in this land and thank God I have the fortune to live in it.

Here now, as the wagon rattles down the wheel-carved trail, you understand his words. You feel that if you brushed your fingers against the sky overhead, towering with lavender-bottomed clouds as thick and soft as cotton on the stem, that they might come away smeared in blue and pink and violet. The surrounding landscape is a cornucopia of vibrant greens, rich browns of trees and soil, and clusters of orange, yellow, and white wildflowers.

You keep looking all around you to take it in, jostling your driver beside you, but Gaz seems not to mind. At least, he doesn’t say anything.

You’ve been trying not to feel so aware of his presence, but the endeavor is impossible. He is a solid weight beside you on the driver’s seat, exuding warmth where your shoulders brush against each other, and the earthy, masculine scent of him is inescapable. Every time his elbow or knee or thigh nudges yours during the natural sway and jostle of the wagon ride, you have to keep yourself from leaping out of your skin. Ever since you stepped foot off the train, you’ve felt like a lightning rod set out in anticipation of a storm.

You ascribe it to displaced longing for your husband-to-be. You’d spent the whole journey west imagining how you’d meet, longing for the moment he took you into his arms for the first time. Gaz is a handsome man—it’s only natural that your unfulfilled anticipation would transfer onto him. Especially considering he said you were perfect.

But then said very little after that. He’d seemed—well, not friendly, but at least amicable on the train platform, so you wonder if your manners have offended somehow. He’s spent most of the drive now with his eyes ahead, partly obscured by the brim of his hat. Occasionally he glances at the letters in your hand, but otherwise does not acknowledge you.

After one such glance, your discomfort with the silence becomes too much to bear.

“I read my favorites every night,” you tell him.

If Gaz is surprised when you break the silence, he doesn’t show it. “That so,” he murmurs.

All you have is his profile, very handsome in the light. The line of his mouth is taut.

“I know it’s silly,” you continue nervously—you have a bad habit of rambling when you’re uncomfortable. Adjusting your carpetbag in your lap, you go on, “but you must understand, this is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. I never expected to marry, you see.”

He grunts.

“Much less to be a mail order bride,” you say. “I always thought I would be an old maid, for lack of available suitors if nothing else. Mama and Daddy thought I ought to learn to read and write, to improve my prospects, but most folks where I’m from don’t care much about all that.”

“I see,” replies Gaz. He still does not look at you.

“Sometimes I think it even made them like me less, like I was putting on airs, being smarter than them.” You realize immediately how arrogant you must sound. “Oh, but I don’t mean any offense! I don’t mean to suggest I have ideas above my station. It’s only just that, I wondered for years and years why no one offered for me, and it was the only thing I could think of. Why would a farmer’s daughter need to read and write? And why would a wife need to, if her duty is to tend to her children and her home? So that must be why no man has ever been very interested in me.”

You realize with horror that words are pouring out of you faster than you can keep up with them. And your driver’s attention has not shifted; his eyes remain on the road.

You look at your lap, face burning. “I’m sorry, I’m just annoying you, Mr. Gaz. I’m sorry.”

Shame grips you, tight and awkward. If you’d wanted to endear yourself to this cowboy at all, you’ve already failed.

But Gaz finally says, “Most men are idiots.” You look at him; he does not look at you. “I’ve only just met you, and I like you fine.”

He says it matter-of-factly, as if no more need saying on the subject. Simple and to the point; an economy of feeling you imagine must be characteristic of men in this part of the country.

Hans was like that too, in his letters. Communicating feeling without dancing around it, with a bluntness that ends up soft in its honesty.

It eases the tension frothing poisonous in your belly. “Thank you,” you say.

You ride in silence for a stretch. A cool breeze catches the free-floating ends of your hair, rustles along in the tall grass by the wayside. The steady thump thump thump of the horse’s hooves, and the creak of tackle and leather, are the only sounds populating the air.

Home was quiet like this, too; the fields stretching endless and green beneath the sky, the silence there so blank and open that birdcall traveled for miles, and the lowing of the family milk cow sounded sometimes like the trumpet of God.

You peek again at Kyle Garrick. There’s a furrow to his brow, the kind a man gets when he’s in a mood and won’t admit it if asked.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, quietly, because he made you feel better about things, and you’ve done little more than whine.

He finally looks at you, the edges of his face lined and glowing in the evening light. Studies you, for a moment. The furrow eases.

“No,” he says, “I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t mean to be short with you. I’m afraid manners are secondary on a ranch, without a good woman nearby to remind about ‘em.”

You give him a small smile. “Have you worked for Hans very long?”

He turns his gaze back to the road. “Six or seven years, now.”

You toy with the clasp of your bag; you’re brimming with questions. “Is he really all that tall?”

“Oh, yes,” Gaz says. “Like a giant.”

“What’s he like?”

Gaz gives a great breath through pursed, full lips. “Fair, I guess. Asks a lot of us—but then most bosses out here will. Worked for his father for a few years before him, too.”

“You must be a good hand then,” you say.

“I work hard,” says Gaz. “That’s all that matters.”

“I’m sure Hans is grateful,” you reply. “He must trust you very much, to send you for me.”

The furrow returns. “He must.”

It becomes clear to you that something is bothering him, and it’s nothing you will resolve between now and when you make it to the ranch. Perhaps it has something to do with you—a new face, an unknown quantity that threatens to knock the balance of his livelihood askew.

You sigh a little. Of course, you should have expected to have to win Hans’ people over. Their loyalty to the late Mrs. König will inevitably be challenged by your arrival.

Neither of you speak again—you decide not to push what little grace Kyle Garrick has given you, and he does not volunteer any more conversation. The rest of the ride is unremarkable, leaving room for anticipation to grow in your stomach; soon the wagon crests the slope of a hill, and your destination comes into view.

Long Mask Ranch sits at the base of a range of mountain foothills, fed and watered emerald green by spring runoff. You’ve been on Hans’ land for a while now; opening up before you is the ranch proper. A collection of buildings form a semicircle around a large corral in the valley: stables, a barn, some cabins, and a large two-story gabled manor, painted white.

The sun sinks further toward the horizon as you approach, painting the world in liquid orange. Figures resolve themselves, people moving tables and chairs around, and on the manor’s front porch, observing the proceedings, stands a tall man in a rancher’s coat and hat.

Lightning suddenly bolts through you. You sit very, very still as Gaz pulls the wagon through a cast iron archway adorned with LMR at the apogee. Your heart thrums in your throat like a picked guitar string. When you finally come to a stop, the man’s head turns to toward you.

At the worst possible moment, shyness grips you. You look around, at anywhere but him, at the house, the corral, the cowboy beside you.

You startle to meet Gaz’s eyes. The expression he wears is a mask of seriousness.

“This is it,” he says.

Your voice leaves your chest trembling. “Thank you, Mr. Gaz.”

“Just Gaz is fine, Miss.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” you reply. Propriety feels like the only solid thing to cling to just now.

He looks away. The line of his mouth tightens. “Of course,” he says.

He dismounts the wagon in one smooth motion, boots hitting the packed earth hard. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the tall man start his way over to you. Gaz rounds the back of the wagon, and you give your bag to him once he’s at your side. He offers his hand to help you down.

You’re dazed as you take it, lightheaded as suddenly the present moment becomes very, very real. It’s warm, his hand; rough in all the places you expect a cowboy’s hand to be. Yet there’s something soft in the way your palms meet, how the dips and contours align with each other and fit together. You’re shaking very hard as you ease your way from the seat, gripping him tightly until your feet meet the ground, and his grip circles yours with a solidness to it in a way unlike any man has ever held you.

You meet his eyes again when he hands you your bag. Gaz gives your hand a squeeze, averts his gaze, and lets you go.

“There she is!” an accented voice announces.

You pull your gaze from Kyle Garrick and the mystery of his tension with you, and turn to face your intended husband.

Hans König has loomed large in your imagination for half a year. He’d described to you what he looked like, of course, as best he could, but you find as you look upon his face that no written word can convey what it means to meet for the first time the man you will marry. You’d fallen in love with someone formless, absent, but inscribed in other ways with enough distinction to nurture your tender feelings.

Looking upon him now, though…his appearance offers nothing to that distinction. He’s neither ugly nor handsome. As he comes to stand before you, you think he rather looks like every other middle-aged man you’ve met in your short life, although certainly much taller. You meet his eyes—pale blue, as he’d related—and the rush of love you’d expected to feel, once you knew who he was, simply does not come.

This man is a stranger to you.

You reprimand yourself immediately. He isn’t a stranger. You’ve known him for six months. His face is simply not one you have attached any love to yet; the measure of his character is contained in the stack of paper in your hands. In the promises he made to you to make your quietest dreams come true.

So you smile the way you’d dreamed you would—like watching the sun crest the horizon after a long night of darkness, seeing the bounty of the near future coming toward you. Summoning joy by making room for it to exist.

“Hello, Hans,” you say, “it’s me.”

Hans König steps forward. He looms over you truly, now, eclipsing your vision. “It is you, indeed.”

Without another word, right there in front of Gaz, Hans grips your shoulders, bends down, and kisses you on the mouth.

Your brows shoot upward. It’s the first time anyone has ever kissed you. His lips are…hard, and motionless against yours. Almost perfunctory. You are so shocked he’s done it that you don’t think to respond, and then as suddenly as it happened, it’s over. He pulls away, pats your shoulders with a little smile, and then looks at Gaz.

“Get that wagon put away and then go help the others,” says Hans to the cowboy, slinging one arm around your shoulder.

Your brows lift further. Is that all he has to say to him, for delivering you safe and sound?

Gaz doesn’t seem to share your feelings. “Yes, sir,” is all he says, even and toneless.

But he looks between you and his employer for more than just the span of a heartbeat. Eyes going from him, to you, to the arm around your shoulders. Then he meets your gaze, expression stony.

If Gaz is wary of your presence here—if you’re going to win him over—the best time to start is now. “Thank you very much for seeing me here safely,” you say. “I was so glad of your company, Mr. Gaz.”

To your dismay, his expression only tightens. Gaz looks at Hans again, then back at you.

“You’re welcome, Miss,” he says.

Then he climbs back into the wagon, gives the reins a snap, and drives away.

-

a/n: fun fact, the ranch and neighboring town are based off Valentine and Emerald Ranch from rdr2 :) the ranch layout is more like Pronghorn Ranch however.

[hanniebaeee]

This man

Best friend Jeonghan x fem!reader

Warnings: maybe a little swearing, kissing

Genre: idiots to lovers, fluff/suggestive MDNI

Summary: You've loved your best friend, Jeonghan, since forever. You're so obvious, but he's an idiot. The question is, are you an idiot too?

You spot Jeonghan as soon as you step into the cafe. This was one of your most favorite cafes, so many good memories here. He was with Joshua (as usual). You and Jeonghan were best friends since primary school, and he found Joshua during his University years. Two best friends from two different times.

You wave hi and take off your coat, hanging it on the back of your chair before sitting down. Jeonghan looked at what you were wearing and smiled. Somehow you two had managed to dress similarly on one too many occasions. Today he wore a pastel green and white chequered shirt with light blue jeans, while you were dressed in a pastel green dress with little white daisies sprinkled on it.

'So, what was so important that I had to get here asap?' You ask.

'Were you busy?' Joshua asked. 'We could have met later.'

'I was working on something with Ver-' You were cut off by Jeonghan who was placing your order all of a sudden, very loudly.

He knew your regular order from here, so he ordered without even asking you. And you just stare at him (a little starstruck every time, but also with a stab of annoyance this time). Communication wasn't one of Jeonghan's strongest points and miscommunication, on the other hand, his natural self. You knew he was mad about something.

'So you were saying?' Joshua said, taking a sip of his coffee.

'Right. I was with VERNON.' You said, emphasising on your friend's name because you knew this made Jeonghan very jealous.

You didn't even know what it was about Vernon that got to Jeonghan so much. Vernon was one of the coolest people you've ever met. You felt lucky to be working with him since he always had the most creative ideas (and best snacks and the bestest cats!).

'Oh right, how's that new project going?' Joshua asked, ignoring Jeonghan's annoyed sighs.

'Really well!' You reply with a smile and you could sense Jeonghan's eyes bore holes into your head.

'What's the matter Jeonghan?' You ask, giving him an irritated look. 'What are you looking at me like that for?!'

'I'm waiting for you to stop gushing over Vernon for a minute' Jeonghan retorted.

'Yah! I wasn't gushing!' You snap, kicking him under the table.

'Oh real mature, Y/N' he grumbled kicking you back. But his shoe landed on your bare calf, making you gasp.

'That's my leg you idiot!' You say, glaring at him.

He looked to the side as you lift your leg from under the table. His expression changed immediately.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he cooed suddenly, bending down to run his hand over the skin. You feel butterflies in your tummy as his fingers touch your skin.

'It's alright.' You said, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

You sit up straight, only to see Joshua giving you a look.

'What?!' I mouthed to him and he just shook his head with a grin.

Jeonghan straightened as well and said 'You obviously enjoy spending time with him more than with me now.'

'Like you enjoy spending time with Joshua more than with me?' You tease back.

'I don't!' Jeonghan whined.

'Yah!' Joshua had a funny frown on his face.

'Stop bullying me now!' Jeonghan said, taking a bite of his cake.

'Ok ok, so what's the 'thing' you had to tell me?' You ask, digging your fork into Jeonghan's cake.

'So we're having a party at ours this weekend to celebrate the release of my first single album!' Joshua said with a big grin. 'It's doing really well, so we thought we should celebrate. Just some close friends.'

'Oh great!' You said with a smile. 'It's all I see every time I open social media!'

Joshua blushed and said, 'You should bring Vernon too.'

'Of course I will.' You said and you could see Jeonghan rolling his eyes at that.

Jeonghan was mad at you all day. He ignored you and backed out of any conversation you were part of. It made you so mad!.

'Whats the matter babe?' Vernon asked.

'Hannie's being a bitch and I don't even know why!' You muttered, taking his cup from him and sipping his drink.

'Go talk to him' Vernon said with a shrug.

'Right, he runs away every time I try.' You said sadly, sitting next to him, and placing you head on his shoulder. He rested his head on yours and said, 'You two are the biggest idiots I know.'

'What? Why?!' You asked sitting up and looking at him.

'Because, Jeonghan is whipped for you. And you are for him. Two idiots.'

'He's my best friend.' You said with a pout.

'So? Can't best friends love each other? Can't they be a couple?' Vernon asked.

'Yah, don't be loud!' You whispered, touching his hand.

'Well?' He asked. 'I know you love him. Not as a best friend, but as something more.'

'I can't risk it, Vernon. He's not just my friend, he's literally my whole life.' You said sadly. 'I would rather be his friend than going and ruining it all for more.'

'Darling, he feels the same way' he said. 'You should see the way he looks at you and the way he's glaring at me right now' Vernon laughed.

'Stop it!' You said, slapping his hand. 'Oh God, help me!'

'Go for it!' Vernon hyped you up. 'Please, so that he would stop giving me those death stares'.

'He does not!' You said, not believing your own words since you knew how he felt about your friendship with Vernon.

'Please turn around' Vernon said, and you did slowly.

Jeonghan had a drink in hand and he leaned against the door to the kitchen. He WAS actually glaring at you both. You have never seen such a look on Jeonghan. He wasn't a hot head. He actually never got that mad - he was more into solving his problems strategically than with his fists.

'You should go.' Vernon said again, nudging you with his elbow.

'I think I should' You agree and stand up. Taking a deep breath, you walk towards Jeonghan. Seeing you, he pushed himself off the door and started walking away. You run, blocking his way.

'Hey!' You said, 'I want to talk.'

'I don't' he said, trying to step away. He was way taller than you, so it wasn't that hard for him to escape.

'Hannie please!', You said in a small voice, head hung. The only voice you knew would get him. You were right because he froze and turned to look at you. Taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, he raised your face up.

'What's wrong?' He asked, his voice laced with worry.

'We have to talk' You said, and he nodded, taking your hand and leading you to his bedroom. He shut the door behind you. Folding his hands against his chest, he said 'Go on'

You squirmed under his gaze. He was just looking and you were falling apart.

'Um' Your voice and vocabulary decided to say goodbye at the very moment and you stood gaping at the gorgeous man in front of you. His beautiful brown eyes set on you and his dark hair falling over his forehead, almost over his eyes. His black round neck T-shirt and light blue jeans looked perfect on him. You thought he was way too beautiful for someone like you.

You felt the soft material of your navy blue dress crumble under your tight grip.

'What's it sweetheart?' He asked softly. 'Since when do you need all this time and formality to tell me anything, hm?

'Since I'm an idiot and a little bit greedy at this point.' You said, blushing.

'What do you mean?' He asked.

You couldn't look at him. You were embarrassed of yourself, and your pathetic attempt to tell this gorgeous human being that you have been in love with him for a good 10 years. You wanted to cry and you wanted him to just understand already. But Hannie's a tease. Even if he knew he wouldn't say anything.

You sigh and said, 'Sorry I wasted your time, Hannie. You should get back to your party.'

He looked way too shocked to even move. And the look on his face scared you to death.

'You've gotta be kidding me!' He said, his eyes wide.

'Whaat?!' You whine.

'You should try not to tease a man like that!' He growled. 'I just want to spank you for all the times you bring it this far and brush me off!'

'Oh woah woah woah!' You say, holding your hands up. 'Me?! I AM THE TEASE NOW?!'

'Of course you are!! Every single time I think that it's about to happen you pull away! You FUCKING pull away and leave me hanging!'

'I've NEVER brushed you off!' You said, your body shaking. 'Why would I ?!'

'Why don't you tell me that?' Jeonghan snapped.

'Why don't you?'

'You first'

'Jeonghan!' You let out a frustrated sigh.

'I won't let you out of this room until you give me an honest answer.' Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

'Oh right, we'll see about that!' You snap and walk towards the door.

He was there first with his bloody long legs. He blocked your way, locked the door and pressed his back to it.

'Move.' You said as seriously as youbcould. 'Now.'

'I'm sorry, can't do that'

'Why Jeonghan, pray tell!' You said, trying to pry him off the door.

'You know why sweetheart' he said, his voice low and menacing.

'I don't! I can't think why, ok?' You lied, even though could see it now. Vernon was right. THIS MAN!

'Oh you know.' jeonghan teased. 'I can see it on your face.'

'I could just kill you right now!' You mutter, taking your hands off him.

'You naughty girl. Brining Vernon here even though you know that it makes me so mad.' He said, taking a step towards you.

'Hannie. Stop.' You said, putting your hands against his chest to hold him back. 'Vernon is my friend. You know that.'

'Really? Just a friend?' Jeonghan asked, his voice anything but innocent.

'Yes' You said.

'Doesn't feel like it'

'Wow, sounds like a you problem!'

He took another step forward, you took one back. The back of your legs hit his bed and you lost balance. You plopped down at the edge of the bed, looking up at him. Your heart raced and the butterflies in your tummy did you no good. He just looked at you and he looked absolutely ravishing.

'Jeonghan, stop looking at me like that!' You whine, covering your warm face with your cold hands.

You hear a chuckle before he kneels down in front of you.

'What's wrong baby?' He teased, his hands on your wrists, pulling your hands off your face. 'Don't hide from me.'

'Oh my God!' You were absolutely melting under his gaze.

He laughed, not his usual gremlin laugh, but a more sweeter one.

'Are you shy?' He asked. 'Really? For me?'

'I won't shy away from slapping you if you don't stop teasing me!' You warn him.

'Go on then.' He said, turning his face a bit, showing you his right cheek. 'I don't think I can ever stop.'

And you shocked yourself by pressing a kiss on his soft cheek. And before you could pull back, you felt his hand at the nape of your neck. And his lips against yours. You think you died for a moment there, before he pulled you back to life.

Biting his lip, he watched you. Then he kissed you again. And again. And again.

'Baby why are you crying?' He asked, his forehead pressed to yours.

You didn't even realize that you were crying until he asked that question. Wiping your face quickly with the back of your hands, you said 'I've wanted to do that for so long, Hannie'

'How long?' He asked, tilting his head.

'Um... 10 years?' You said, shy and embarrassed.

'What?!' That incredulous look came back to his face. 'You kept this from me for 10 years?!'

'I was scared!' You said. 'I didn't want to lose you!'

'Did you ever stop to think that maybe I felt it too? Why do you think I never had a girlfriend? Why did I put you first all the time?'

'I thought you had a secret girlfriend because you used to giggle into your phone all the time after you started uni!' You said with a shrug.

'What?! I don't giggle!' He said, squeezing your thigh.

'That's not the point. The point is that I thought you met someone at uni. Until I knew that it was just Joshua. Then I thought you were with Joshua!'

'You DID NOT!' he said, turning beet red.

'I'm sorry, Hannie. I knew that when you brought him home' I said giving him a sheepish smile. 'He wouldn't stop flirting with me, haha'

'Mhm' he said with a smile. 'And?'

'And?'

'You wanted to say something?' He asked, his hand still on your thigh.

'Maybe' you muttered. 'Since you're being a big baby and you won't say it first.'

He didn't say anything, just grinned.

'I love you, Hannie. I'm so in love with you.' You said, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy. 'So so much.'

'Yeah?' He asked, cupping your face with his hands. 'That's good, because I'm in love with you too.'

You squeal like a little girl and throw your arms around him, giggling and kissing his cheek.

'Say it again' you say, holding him close.

'I love you. I love you. I love you.' He said, hugging you tight. He kissed you again, long and deep. His lips are wet and warm on yours. This is simply the bestest kiss ever. Then with one arm around you, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

'Shua's looking for us' he said, putting it back.

'Come on, let's get back to the party. Poor Shua.' You said, standing up.

On your way to the door, you stopped still as you felt his hand land a slap on your butt. Face red and voice shaky, you asked, 'What was that for?!'

'For cuddling up to Vernon before' Jeonghan replied simply.

'I thought we were over that'

'You deserve it for teasing me all day!'

'Says the tease!' You retort and move back quickly as he took big steps towards you, caging you between his body and the door, his arms on either side of you. You grin even though this made your legs go all wobbly.

'You are so hot, oh my god!' You said, hands covering your face again.

He laughed and said 'I'm trying to look intimidating here!'

'Ok, hot and intimidating' You said, as he pulled your hands off your face. Again.

He just leaned forward and delivered another mind blowing kiss. 'And, just so you know, you're hot as fuck too'

You laughed and said, 'I love you Hannie'

'I love more, baby.' he said with a wink.

Joshua and Vernon grinned like idiots as they saw you, but were kind enough to keep the teasing for later. But you knew that you wouldn't hear the end of it for a very long time.

When Jeonghan drove you back home, you asked him if he wanted to go up to your apartment with you.

'And do what?' He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

'Shut up!' You said, turning away to hide your burning cheeks.

He laughed, parking the car and coming up with you. Your roommate was spending the weekend with her boyfriend so you had the house to yourself. Keeping your shoes on the rack near the door, you walked in, for the first time as a couple.

Jeonghan followed you into your bedroom and climbed into your bed. He patted the spot next to him and held out his hand for you. Heart fluttering and legs shaking, you were way too nervous.

Though you have had way too many naughty dreams and fantasies about Jeonghan, seeing him on your bed was a bit scary. You've slept on the same bed so many times over the years, but things are so different and easy when you're just friends.

You put your hand in his, letting him pull you into his arms. Placing your head in his chest and listening to his heartbeats felt surreal. He may have noticed how tense your body was because he kissed your forehead and said 'We don't have to do anything today, ok? I just want to cuddle with you and kiss you for now. We can take it slow.'

'Thank you Hannie' You said, feeling relieved.

You place a soft kiss on his chest. Jeonghan smiled and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. Flush against his toned body, you were trembling a bit.

'Hannie?'

'Yeah?'

'I've only ever dreamed of this...I can't believe you're really here, like this-' You didn't even know what you were saying.

'Yeah? What other dreams do you have? We'll make them all true!' Jeonghan whispered, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

'Don't be so cute!' You said, burying your face in his chest again.

His breathy laughs were the best. Everything about him was just more beautiful now. He's your boyfriend after all.

a/n: I'm in love with these cute dividers by @saradika ❤

[the-monkeies-girl]

Having snow ball fights with the apes playfully>>

*Laying all this fluff out for you guys in hopes that you forgive me for demolishing, and proceeding to demolish, your emotions with the customary series*

Noa.

Snow was rare for the area, Noa thought and watched as the delicate flakes fell from the gray sky above. Maybe… Once or twice in his entire life had it been cold enough for it to actually stick. It was nice, he was not denying that as a shiver ran down his spine, a few flakes clinging happily to the prickly fur that was standing up . The way it clung to the ground like it was the very breath it needed to survive, first only a dusting and getting piled on by the minute. As much as he wanted to pay attention to each flake to see if the tale was true - that they were all different shapes - his sharp green eyes caught the movement of you as were trotting through the open meadow, usually alight with greens and pastels of the wildflowers, now washen in white and almost blinding. 

But there you were, tightly bundled in a puff. Well, Noa knew it to be a winter jacket after he gave you a quizzical look when you slid it on in preparation of going outside, but the appearance and given the fact that it was a few sizes too big for you, make you look like you were walking around on stick legs, nothing more than one of those bugs that rolled in on itself out of defense on the top. He had always wondered what Echo’s did in the winter, when the cold was at its peak, and he finally got his answers. As funny at a distance as it looked, he found it endearing as you lifted your hand to play against the snowflakes in a bid to get some to melt against your open palm.

Like his thickened fur that set in right around mid-fall, you were also able to shuffle into layers, albeit, the idea of being able to shed it rather than it being a permanent fixture against your body was not favorable to him. How did you sleep with that thing on? He tilted his eyes, realizing that he had lost sight of you. Green gaze stuck around the area you had just been, Anaya and Soona coming into his periphery as they were coming to join the usual afternoon shenanigans before the evening meal. He lifted his head to greet them.

“Echo?” Anaya inquired, watching as your head finally popped up from the snow. You had been laying on your back, Noa realized, that’s how he lost sight of you. Curiously, he nodded at Anaya and the three of them walked towards you. “They’re called snow angels,” You smiled at your artwork as you straggled to your feet, trying to keep enough traction that you didn't sleep upon the sleek nature. “I--- Used to dream about making them as a kid, it never really snowed enough though.” The imprint of your body with what looked like wings imprinted on the ground looked like nothing other than a blob to all three of the Apes, but none of them had it in their hearts to really say anything about it as Noa soaked in your words a bit more than the others, “Snow… Angel?” Nodding, you crouched down and rolled some snow into your hands and began compacting it delicately at first but with gained momentum, it rolled into a semi-hardened ball and you found it hard not to laugh as you held the melting item in the palm of your hand, “This is a snowball.” Pretty on the nose as far as descriptive words went, Noa thought sarcastically and looked at it. He raised an eyebrow at you before you stood up quickly, arching your arm back and throwing the item with intense strength, so much so that Noa found the grunt you made when releasing to barrel through the air quite inviting.

Anaya was hit moments later.

Right on the back of the head, near the base of his neck. He growled at that, lifting a hand up and rubbing there before looking back towards you and Noa and you were fast to duck downwards, buffering yourself with your arms as you dropped to lay flat on your stomach. “Did he see me?” Noa, amused at his friend's reaction to being hit, laughed out a bit and looked down at you, “Yes, he’s coming this way.” Noa squinted, allowing himself the pleasure of Anaya dropping a large armful of snow right onto you. The screech you released followed by bouts of laughter were more than enough to convince Noa that these… Snowballs, you had called them, were a game and more fun than he initially thought.

Caesar.

Caesar did not like the snow. He did not mind the rain, but the snow was beyond his liking and it was a disgusting addition to the Colony that led to the ground being nothing more than a slurry of browns mixing into the whites, turning gray and gross with each step an Ape took against it. It was rather tolerable when he was able to stay in the confines of a fire, enjoying the heat more as his dense fur really seeped into his pores and he was able to be self-sufficient with heat for hours from sitting in front of a fire for only a few minutes. He had done just that earlier in the morning before you adamantly dragged him out of the toasted nature of the enclosure he shared with you. 

There was no way you were enjoying it either, given the fact that you had nothing against the cold other than a few layered sweaters and a larger one on top of the rest of the layers that you were able to cover your hands with and a hat. He made a mental note to himself, watching as you trailed a few feet in front of him, your boots leaving indentations in the pure snow below, that he’d look for a winter jacket for you and maybe some gloves the next time he stumbled upon an abandoned human camp if you weren’t with him. And if you were, he would remind you to look for the items yourself.

So caught up in the chill that rested in his bare feet, Caesar’s gaze had been watching the way your steps looked in the snow below, when he looked up to see if you were still near, you were… Gone. He came to a slow stop at that. You couldn’t have gotten far, otherwise your movements would have been more detectable. Narrowing his gaze, his right ear picked up on a few sounds behind a large tree, frosted over the bark and up to Caesar’s shoulder. There you were, he thought to himself and with a small grumble in his chest to keep himself motivated to move rather than going back to the Colony in hopes that you would simply follow, he gravitated towards the tree, but once he looked behind it completely, you were nowhere to be seen. Obviously, from the stances of your feet in the snow below, you had been but the rapid nature of your steps, you had moved away just as quickly. Caesar drew a deep breath in. He had no time or willpower for games this late morning.

He understood the premise, you wanted to enjoy the cold and didn't want to be trapped inside the Colony the entire day, and snow was always a good time, he recalled at times reading children books when he was younger with Will detailing days spent in the snow. Snowmen, snow angels, snowballs, igloos… His favorite, admittedly, was Curious George in the Snow. He was still able to see the pictures vividly, to read the words to the best of his ability. A very happy monkey in the snow, versus a very grumpy Chimpanzee baring through it for the sake of his mate. How twisted life was sometimes, Caesar laughed at that and stayed near the tree you had been.

He could have sworn he heard your voice saying his name to the left and without hesitation at the beckon, never something that was a threat when it came from you and you only, he turned his head in the direction he thought it was coming from. You were playing hide and seek, Caesar dabbled on that with a brief smile. First, you drag him out into the snow and then you dare play a game with him that he, inherently as an Ape, was really good at and he was going to---

A flurry of white hit his peripheral before an explosion of snow hit his vision, blinding him for just a second before his eyes focused. Mouth ajar, he looked in the direction the projectile came from and he came to face his attacker. You. Another snowball in your hands and you had just nailed him with another. The smile on your face was beyond smug, something Caesar wanted to drag you home with in hopes that maybe he’d be able to wipe it straight off with a good session in the nest, the justification being that he was staving off your hypothermia. 

He considered the same retaliation, but you would see that coming. Seeing him bend down, forming a ball and by the time the Ape King stood, you were more than likely running off afraid of being pelted. Instead, you laughed at him, the smile so familiar and drawing Caesar in closer, close… He dropped. On all fours and galloped right at you, your reaction being too slow and without reserve, Caesar had you tackled down into the snow, careful enough in his movements that he wasn’t going to hurt you, but you did groan upon impact, your entire body suddenly being wrapped in warm as he laid himself flat on top of you. “Let me go.” You straggled, unable to hide the amusement in your face as you chuckled, weezing out a few cackles. “Caesar!” “No.” You felt like you couldn’t catch your breath as you threw your head back, his hands coming to grasp at your hips to keep you pinned down. “I can’t breathe!” “Yes you can.” He made sure of his words by not pressing his full body weight. “Apologize.” “Never.” “Apologize.” “You deserved it, I’m sorry I hit your face, I-I swear I was aiming for your chest.” Your laughter soon became nervous as Caesar’s hands left your body, and he was reaching above your head to cup some snow. “No, you wouldn’t.”

He wasn’t stopping, your laughter boisterous as you began struggling against him. Not out of primal, animalistic fear, out of fear of the snow hitting your face. He dangled it right above your face, your eyes focusing on the flurries. 

“Apologize.”

Cackling like a maniac, you shook your head, reaching above your head in a mirror of Caesar's previous actions, slamming some more snow against the side of his face. He was shocked enough by that, the snow in his grasp falling as you finally managed to get yourself free and without worry or care, you began running off. Caesar blinked. And then again, not willing to admit that he was having fun, before he rose carefully, darting right after you in a bid of revenge.

Blue Eyes / Ash.

You looked at Ash with intent focus. Lifting your hands to your eyes, your pointer and middle finger adjacent to your eyes, you followed the movement outwards to the landscape that had been deliciously drenched in virgin snow. You were telling your friend to watch your back, you were about to go into the battlefield. You had a severe disadvantage. Blue Eyes was able to swing through the trees and drop down an attack.

You… You had your legs, the ground below and a dream as you looked down at the pre-made snowballs in your satchel that rested against the side of your body. Ash understood his assignment and nodded at you, watching as you hyped yourself up with rapid breathing, rising yourself onto your forearms before your feet planted your weight into the snow below and you began running. Harder and faster than you had in a while, your heart was racing in your chest. 

“I’m gonna make it!!” You yelled at Ash, seeing the embankment of the river only a few meters in front of you. The end of the line, the decided point that you had given in this very intense game that you were playing with Ash and Blue Eyes. Forming an alliance only with Ash as you both came to reckon that Blue Eyes was competitive, leaving you to wonder if that was a trait he got from Caesar or Cornelia, was a good move. You were fast at making the snowballs themselves, and Ash was good at spotting the Ape Prince and throwing them before Blue Eyes had the chance to nail you.

The laughter you let out was ripping, Blue Eyes watching intently from the second branch of a conifer as you drew closer to the river. Closer… Closer. He looked over at Ash who looked up at him. They were subsequently in cahoots. Ash faking an alliance with you, but his diligence towards Blue Eyes was evident as you were hit between the shoulder blades by a flying snow projectile. Not hard enough to cause any pain, but it was alarming as you screamed in response. 

“Who did that?!” It looked like you were running in circles at this point, another snowball flying your way from Ash himself, another following that was tossed by Blue Eyes. “A-Ash!!” Crying that out, you looked towards the area you had just darted from at your alleged alliance. “You---” Blue Eyes was suddenly in front of you, your eyes widening in surprise. “No.”

‘Think we won.’ He signed at you, your hand at your side tucking into your bag to grab a ball. It was cold and melting, but the more compressed and melted it was, the harder of a hit it was going to be. Given his heightened senses, he was able to grab your arm before you tossed the ball at him in defense, your wrist suddenly encased by Blue Eyes’ large hand. ‘Time to admit you lost.’

“I’m taking this ship down with me.” You smiled at Blue Eyes, knowing exactly how it must have appeared for him as you drew your face that much closer to him. In the midst of surprise to your sudden closeness, his chest swelling at the prospect that you were going to touch him, you took advantage of his reaction, snapping your arm away from him and tossing a gait towards Ash, whom you successfully hit with a few snowballs before rounding a tree and making your way to the river. “I’m gonna win! I’m gonna tell Caesar all about how much his son--- OOF---” You… Disappeared. Ash looked at Blue Eyes, and Blue Eyes looked at the skid on the ground where you had vanished, bringing himself towards it cautiously in case you were playing another rouse to get him hit with another snowball. Once he came up the small embankment of raised ground, his azure glance, more blue now in the cold and bleak weather, noticed you. Slipped, you must have slipped and didn't realize that there was a small hill behind you and you ultimately lost your balance and went tumbling down.

Concern hit him at once as he got a bit closer, letting his curled hand place against your back. Movement caught him off guard, your shoulders moving. Were you… Laughing…? Blue Eyes looked over at Ash as his friend joined him to make sure you were okay, but it was more than obvious that you were, face down in the snow by all means, but your giggles were entrancing as usual for him. 

Out-stretched to the right, your hand. Blue Eyes looked at it as you turned your head to look at him. You were barely skidding the iced water of the river. Smiling at him, he narrowed his eyes playfully at you as you were given the power to gloat, “I knew I’d win. No one beats the champion.” 

“Wait,” You screeched, arms being held up by Blue Eyes whose movement towards your appendages you didn't see, your legs to follow by Ash and the two of them held your weight up as they trailed a bit closer to the river, “WAIT!! DON’T THROW ME IN THERE!! I’m the winner! I won fair and square!"

With one hand still holding you, Blue Eyes signed at Ash, ‘Did she win fairly?’ You watched the signing with baited breath and looked down at Ash who had your feet. 

‘She tried to rally me against you,’ Was his response, ‘Not fair. Each Ape to themself.’ “But I’m Human!” You bargained again with a nervous chuckle, “That rule doesn’t apply to me, right?”

The pair shared a glance. Blue Eyes nodded. Ash nodded. Your body swung back and without reserve, you were tossed like a leaf towards the water, “NOOOOO!!!!!”

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 4

A/n: So I’m pivoting a little bit with this series. In the last chapter, I had reader with Rhys a lot and I’m fighting the urge to rewrite it, but from here on out it’s going to be a lot more of the inner circle stuff while Rhys and Feyre are doing their own thing. I didn’t like how much  I relied on the dialogue straight from the book for chapter 3 so hopefully this makes it a little better to write and more interesting to read! 

Strap in because a lot happens in this chapter. Also this is mostly unedited because my brain in soup at this point.

Warnings: Cannon level description of violence, blood, brief mention of trauma (Rhys and Readers history with Tamlin), suggestive thoughts/language (as always let me know if I missed anything)

WC:19k

Previous chapters: [prologue] [chapter 1][chapter 2][chapter 3]

NExt chapter [Here]

“I don’t get why I wasn’t invited.” Cassian whined, leaning back in the wide backed chair. I knocked his feet from their place on the coffee table and he stumbled as the legs of the chair touched the ground.

“Because last time you were there you fucked someone’s wife and destroyed their house in your attempt to get away.” 

“In my defense, she didn’t tell me she was married.” He grumbled out, crossing his arms like the petulant child he was. 

“Try telling that to her husband.” I continued to tease him. 

“I did.” 

“Children, children.” Mor chided Cassian and I. A bored wave of her hand causing Cassian to turn his attention to her instead. I smiled widely as the two of them started going back and forth. 

Eventually Rhys and Azriel came to collect Cassian. 

“Sorry, boys night.” My brother said, shooting me a wink when I tried to argue. “Don’t pout at me.”

“They’re just afraid they’d lose their ass if they let us play.” Mor returned, all of the males sputtering out a chorus of protests. 

True to their word, they didn’t let Mor or myself join them. Going as far as to lock the door to Rhys’ study. Their loud shouts could be heard from where Mor and I sat together down the hall. 

Mor was swiping the second layer of a silver and black sparkle nail polish on my hand. 

“Are you nervous about going to summer?” She asked casually. 

“Hardly.” Even I wasn’t convinced by my words. Mor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. “Fine. I’m just worried we won’t get the book. We’ve only tested this theory of Feyre’s powers once and that was Rhys’ magic.”

“You think the bond could let her sense it.” I nodded.

“It’s not impossible. Even if she hasn’t accepted it. She could be inherently drawn to things that have ties to him. I just have to hope my brother is right.” I stopped talking to start blowing my nails dry. Shaking them slightly while I did so. Mor turned to her own nails, brushing a blood red polish over them. 

The summer court was just as beautiful as I remember it. I was immediately greeted by the smell of sea salt, even the sunshine smelt different. The humidity in the air laced it with something I could not put my finger on but warmed every part of my body. My skin felt instantly sticky, suddenly very grateful for the flowing white halter dress I had picked for myself that morning. 

Even though it was early in the morning, the city below the palace was already teeming with life. Merchant carrying various baskets full of goods, ships sailing in and out of the docks. The rope bridges swayed slightly in the breeze as people flurried about. 

We had winnowed right in front of the palace. The purple and green sea glass doors opened at our arrival. It had been at least a century since the last time I visited this place, enough time that I was in awe of the scene in front of me. As much as I loved my home Velaris, there was something about the lightness of this palace that called to me. The full walls of sea glass and shells embedded into the floor, covered with some shiny surface that didn’t make it painful to walk on.Light chiffon fabric  in pastel purples, seafoam green, baby pinks, and, buttery yellows adorned the chairs and curtains. The sun that shone through the glass walls tinted with all the colors around us. I was still gawking when Tarquin approached us. The time since he came back had been kind to him. His dark skin more bronzed and his long white hair was  braided and adorned with various shells, he was heart stoppingly handsome.The power of a high lord circled him, but unlike Rhys, it carried a certain warmth to it. An aura of safety and security. I swore the water flowing from the fountains around us bubbled harder at his arrival. 

“Welcome. I see you like the changes I’ve made” He winked at me, eyes still flickering about. 

“I believe you’ve met before, although not since your…promotion.” Tarquin eyed Amren before he gave her a polite bow. Amren bit back a greeting that reminded me of what others saw us as. Cold and calculating. 

“And you two were never formally introduced under the mountain. Feyre, Tarquin.” Tarquin’s face set into a tight line as his eyes swept over the revealing dress Feyre was wearing. Even more see-through with the sunlight in the room. Rhys let out a lewd comment and Feyre returned her own before I  could even think to grimace. 

Another's presence in the room had me looking over Tarquins shoulder. I tried to keep my face even as I spotted Cresseida. The female and I had grown closer than anyone else in the court during my last visit. She shot me a wicked smile before Tarquin introduced her, a claiming hand resting on her shoulder. My eyebrow raised to her and she shrugged her shoulders. A promise of explaining later in her dark brown eyes. Varian was next to be introduced. As captain of Tarquins guard, I did not fault him for the way he sized all of us up, especially Amren. 

Our group followed Tarquin through the hallways of the palace. Rhys and the High Lord making polite small talk. Cressida and I walked in step together. 

The room Tarquin led us to was just as beautiful as the rest of the palace. High ceilings speckled with those same pastel colors, a wide open window showcasing the vibrant water of the sea, so rich in color it appeared almost teal. Feyre gravitated towards the window, like her feet were working on their own. The Summer High Lord approached her side and I tried to keep up with their hushed conversation. Rhys took a seat at the table in the middle of the room and motioned for me to do the same. Rolling my eyes as the others approached, I grabbed Cressida’s arm and led her to a set of couches a bit away from the others. “We’ll leave all the important talk to the high lords and generals.” I said, sinking into that vapid facade I carried when I wasn’t expected to be Rhys’ terrifying counterpart. He gave me a bored look of dismissal. 

“You must tell me everything.” I nearly squealed at Cressida, loud enough for the others to hear. 

“There isn’t much to tell, Tarquin is adjusting to being High Lord quite well. However, suddenly it was…He’s a good change from before.” So not interested in her advances then. Her eyes flickered over to the table where the rest sat. 

“Are you not in contact with Tamlin then, Feyre?” The question was laced with challenge and accusations. The idea that she was in not one but two high lords beds a grave insult. 

“My relationship with the High Lord of spring is none of your concern.” She bit back, the perfect edge of regal and warning in her voice. 

“Good, I’d hate to have to return you to your master.” Even from across the room I saw Amren go deathly still. I gave Cressida a small tap on her shoulder, a playful move that warned her to hold her tongue. She gave me a withering glare as Tarquin reprimanded her for her words. 

She turned back to me, mouth opening to continue our conversation as Rhys spoke. If I hear word that she or anyone else sends news of our being here to Tamlin, your lives will be forfeit. I heard the tone of promise. The air growing deathly still as his words registered to the High Lord.I took a deep sip of my wine as feyre whispered out something that had Tarquin laughing. The room seemed to take a collective sigh at the sound. Tarquin was a good change indeed. Cressida sank back into her chair as she looked me over. 

“You look well.” She said once the conversation in the room resumed. I nodded, setting down my glass on the table beside me.

“Fresh air will do that to a person.” My not so subtle reminder to her that she had not been under the mountain. She gave a small hum. “It seems the court has recovered nicely.”  

It was her turn to grow tense. “It was not without hard work, as I’m sure you can relate to. Having a sudden change in high lord and losing half our population has not made it easy to rebuild, but we’ve managed this far.” She sighed, looking at Tarquin who was now laughing with Rhys. “He has made things easier. Gave my brother and I much more control over the efforts than the previous High lord would have.” I took in her words, the tension in her shoulders and heard the tone of someone who had sacrificed a great deal for her court. Something I very much understood. I felt shame rise in my throat at my earlier comments. She might not have been under the mountain but she, and many others in Prythian, had suffered just as much because of it. I’d imagine it would be impossible to find someone who was not affected. 

“Enough about me though, tell me how’ve you been?” Her tone switched back to one of light gossip. I took a deep sip of my wine as I gave her a half-true recounting of the last few months. 

Cressida walked me back to my room, pointing out things around the palace while doing so. Explaining the bits of work that were still in planning. She gestured to my room and said her goodbyes, promising to find me at the party tonight. 

I let out a heavy sigh as the door closed behind me. I had forgotten how exhausting court politics was. How heavy the role Rhys and I played was. Instead of lingering on that, I quickly changed into my clothes for tonight. A flowy dress that mimicked the fashion of the court but with Night Court colors. Silvers and midnight blues, silver chains fastening the dress around my neck. I left the tiara I would pin in my hair on the edge of my bed as I walked out onto the balcony attached to my room. I stared out at the crashing waves, sitting in the sound that they brought with them. The tide was coming in stronger now that it was mid-afternoon. On the horizon I saw the colorful sails of merchant and travel ships bobbing on the water. I leaned against the railing, letting myself become almost hypnotized by the motion of the water around me. I don’t know how long I stayed staring out at the water but Rhys knocking at my door told me it had been at least a few hours. Rhys walked up to my side, leaning against the railing. 

“It's definitely a nice view.” He says, snapping me out of my trance. I only nod. 

“I wish we didn't have to do this.” 

“Which part?”

“I don’t know all of it. The sneaking and the games. I just wish it could change.” I said, voice barely above a whisper. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. 

“It will be. Once this war is over. That’s what we're fighting for.” He gave a little squeeze before I sighed heavily. 

“I hope that’s how the others see it.” He nodded and I pulled away from his side. Walking back into the room. I picked up my tiara and slid it into my hair. I adjusted my makeup in the mirror on the vanity.  Looking at Rhys I gave a dramatic twirl. 

“How do I look?” He rolled his eyes at the question.

“Every bit the Night Court princess. Now will you please hurry up, we’re already late enough.” I stuck my tongue out at him as we walked out of the room. 

The ship was beautiful. It could fit double the amount of Fae than it was currently holding. Feyre, Rhys and Amren stayed close together while I mingled amongst those who would actually talk to me. Cressida found me at some point in the night, pushing a glass of wine into my hand. I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between her and Mor. Making me wonder just what sat behind her own mask. We got along fine but years of not speaking had made our friendship dissolve. Rhys made his way over to Cressida and I, giving Feyre space to talk to Tarquin. He tried to play the aloof High Lord but I saw the way his eyes kept floating over to Feyre, the way his shoulders stiffened at every smile Tarquin gave her. Cressida must have sensed the tension too because she leaned across the table to reach for my brother's hand, purposefully leaning over to expose her cleavage to him. I tried not to roll my eyes at her attempt to get his attention. 

He gave her a sleepy smile and pointed to the seat next to him. She gave Feyre a lingering glance before she stood up and all but climbed into his lap. I didn’t hold back my eyeroll this time. She shot me a wide grin. “You don’t mind do you?” She asked in a coy voice. 

“By all means, don’t let me stop you. But you should be asking him.” She pouted at my brother who nodded his head, his hand drifting to the small of her back. I downed the rest of my wine before standing up to get more. I had no interest in seeing him lean down to whisper in his ear. I noticed Feyre spared a glance our way, quickly looking back to Tarquin when she spotted Cressida’s new seat. Before I knew it, Feyre was on her feet. Walking away to a less crowded spot on the ship, leaving a very confused looking Tarquin behind her. Taking the opportunity, I joined him at the table. 

“I hope I didn’t upset her.” He joked when I sat down beside him.

“She can be a little…touchy where my brother is concerned. Pay no mind.” I waved my hand to punctuate my words. Tarquin just took a deep sip of his wine. 

We made light conversation, asking each other about our courts and each only giving as much information as was polite. My eyes tracked Rhys movements as Cressida pulled him from his seat and across the deck of the ship. A deep laugh came from the High Lord’s chest. 

“You’re not interested then?” I pointed my hand at the retreating couple, still holding my wine glass,  Another laugh from Tarquin.

“Mother no, did no one tell you she’s my cousin.” 

“Oh…” He gave me a smirk. 

“And besides,  princess. I am still young and rebuilding my court. All of that,” he waved towards the direction Cressida had pulled my brother, “can wait until after. That doesn’t mean that anyone in my court isn’t free fuck whoever they decide.” I almost shot wine from my nose at how hard I laughed, choosing an inopportune time to take a deep sip from my cup. I sputtered out an  “I’m sorry.” between coughs. He handed me a handkerchief to wipe my mouth. “I truly wasn’t not expecting you to say that. Please don’t think I was laughing at you.” 

“Never.” His voice suddenly became more serious than before. 

“Now what about you? No one has caught your eye?”

“I dare you to try with a brother like mine.” It felt wrong to so crassly talk about Rhys. LIke he was the one stopping me from what I wanted. 

“But there’s someone?” He pried. I shook my head. 

“No one that would see me that way.” It wasn’t a lie by any means. He didn’t have to know exactly why. 

“Do they happen to be blind?” I raised an eyebrow in question. “That would be the only reason I think of for someone not seeing you that way.” I didn’t fake the blush that rose on my cheeks. 

“You flatter me. But no, just… I don’t know.” I said in a tone almost boarding on a whine. He laughed again, a sound I realized I liked. We sat and talked until the sun colored the water a deep purple. I looked out at the view, once again falling into a trance as I stared out at the waves. 

“Shall I walk you back to your room?” Tarquin asked, pulling my eyes back to him. I wanted to say no. But the role I played required I saw yes. So I nodded, letting him guide me by my hand back around the palace. I was nervous as we approached my door, not knowing fully what he expected out of me. Especially not knowing exactly where Cressida had pulled Rhys to. I felt panic starting to rise in my throat until he cleared his throat. 

We were outside my door and the panic I felt must have been written across my face. 

“Don’t look so disappointed. But I was not walking you back for that.” I felt my shoulders relax and a blush settle on the tips of my ears. 

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t be. I like my partners more than willing.Enthusiastic if you will.” I laughed, which made him laugh in return.

“Good night.” I whispered to him

“Good night.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned and walked off down the hallway. 

I had nothing to do until Feyre went to look for the book. And I truly had no desire to sit and gossip with Cressida after the heated looks she had been giving my brother. So I simply stayed in my room, listening to the sounds of the ocean. I tried to think of how much the rest of my family would love it here. How much they had loved it here. I lightly chuckled to myself as I remember Cassian's face as Mor winnowed him out of the court last time we had visited. It took days of debate and many apologies before the previous High Lord rescinded the blood ruby he threatened to send after Cassian.  Mor looked absolutely gorgeous with some sun on her skin, although Azriel held onto it longer much to her chagrin. I curled my knees up to my chest at the thought of Azriel. It felt almost selfish for how little I had thought about him since I’d been here. Regardless of the fact that I had no reason to feel bad, a small twinge of shame pushed its way through me. A hand rising to the center of my chest to massage the discomfort away. 

Rhys didn't come to collect me until dinner. He was curt as he announced that the rest were waiting for me, not waiting for my reply before he was leaving the room again. I rushed after to catch up with him. Feyre must have done her job well if my brother was wound this tight. 

“Anything on your mind, brother?” I asked in a sweet voice, purposefully teasing him.

“Don’t you start with me too.” So Feyre must have already talked to him. Good. Maybe he’ll finally use this to tell the poor girl. “Stop trying to meddle.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I just want to get this damned book and go back home.”

“I’m sure that’s all there is to it, Rhys.” I patted him on the back and nearly started running down the hall, suddenly very hungry. 

The days passed by slowly. As Rhys’ advisor, I was now expected to attend the various meetings Rhys had with the summer courts own advisors. I wished we could have left Amren out of these meetings, but as his second, she attended every one of them. Her presence set the others on edge, making any and all discussions freeze at random moments because she so much as shifted her body weight. 

It wasn’t until dinner the night after that Feyre almost gave herself away. One too many questions asked about the little temple in the middle of the tide. Tarquin brushed off her questions with ease but I saw the way his eyes lingered on her longer than normal, like he was sizing her up for the first time. If I blinked I would have missed it, that slight fog in his eyes. A fog that only appeared for a moment before sea green eyes were revealed once again. I shot my eyes to Rhys who shook his head. Not him then. Meaning Feyre must have been able to do that. I was both very impressed and oh so horrified. 

“I can carry you both and then keep watch” Rhys layed out the plan. Amren looked over to me. 

“And her?”

“Someone has to keep the High Lord distracted.” I grinned at her

“What a hard job to do.” She bit back at me, baring her teeth at me. I fought back the urge to do the same. 

“It’s a necessary job. Unless you want to risk Tarquin sniffing us out.” She didn’t have a response for him. “Good. Do you think you can do it?” He turned to face me and I nodded. From there we planned the rest of the details. 

The day dragged by. Tarquin, by Feyre’s suggestion, had taken her to the mainland to show her the rest of the court. That left Amren, Rhys and myself free to make some final conversation with the court advisors. Simple things like trade and training of soldiers felt wrong to discuss with a greater war on the horizon, felt too mundane. 

Evening came around eventually. Tarquin all but deposited Feyre into Rhys’ outstretched arms. He gave her a salacious smile that I wasn’t sure was entirely fake. But gave the right impression of just exactly why I was so eager to leave the palace. 

Tarquin and I walked through the city where he took me to a small bistro. The staff all smiled at him as we approached the open air restaurant. It was quaint, reminding me of something you would find in Velaris. The casual exchange between the owner and Tarquin felt very familiar. I smiled at the couple as they personally sat Tarquin and I. The restaurant had no menu, instead the meal was based on whatever the ships brought in that day and the catch of the day seemed to be crab. They brought out steaming plates and I could only stare at it. 

“I must admit, I’ve never tried crab before.” I picked up one of the legs in front of me, taking note of the hard shell. Tarquin smiled at me. 

“Apologies, I didn’t consider that.” He gestured for the piece I was holding and I handed it over to him. “You have to crack this open” A simple twist of his hands and the shell popped loudly. “And then you can pull out the meat.” Picking up a tiny fork, he pulled the entirety of the meat out in a clean piece. I gave him a small clap. He laughed and handed me another piece. 

“You try.” I earned my own clap from him as I copied his motions. It took me a few tries to scoop everything out but I got there in the end. 

“I’lll just have to practice more.” I winked at him and he gave me a soft smile. 

“If it gives you an excuse to come back here, be my guest.” I let the comment float between us. We ate until he had to wave off the shop owners. A small argument between the three of them as they tried to insist he didn’t need to pay. Tarquin dropped a bag of gold on the table when their backs were turned and all but pushed me out of the restaurant before they could notice. The action was so unlike any other high lord I had seen that I couldn’t help the giggle that left me. 

He had grabbed my hand in his sometime during our walk back through the city. Not paying attention to the way I led him to the stretch of beach on the other side of the palace, on the opposite side of where Feyre and Amren were currently trying to grab the book from. The only sound between us was the crashing waves. 

“Sunlight looks good on you.” Tarquin winked at me as we walked down the beach. Breaking the comfortable silence.  The red that tinted my cheeks had nothing to do with the fleeting sunlight. 

“I’m afraid I might become the same color of that crab if I stayed too long,” I joked back.

“You’d adjust… If you ever wanted to, that is.” His tone was light but I could sense the truth behind those words. 

“You’d do well to remember not to be fooled by a pretty face.” I returned with that same tone. He shook his head. 

“I was under the mountain too. Everyone heard the way you would stand up to her. The way you suffered so others wouldn’t.” His words startled me. I never acted that way to get attention. I told him as much. “And that’s why I know you’re more than a pretty face. You did all of it without thinking. Regardless of what you might show others, I know you and your brother are good people. The people that refuse to see that are fools” 

I didn’t respond. Unable to find the right words. I kept walking, slower than before. The sound of waves crashed over my ears. The white noise comforting. Tarquin was not a bad looking male by a long shot. Even under the mountain he was gorgeous. But even thinking of it, however fleetingly, felt wrong. Some deep part in my chest hurt as I thought of how easy it would be to fall in love with him. My hand drifted subconsciously to rub that sharp sting away. 

“You’re kind too. I see it in the way you interact with your people. Very few high lords care about lesser fae, let alone enough to remember their names.” It was his turn to blush, the skin on his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. 

“I want to be better than those before me. I see no reason to make my people suffer because they weren't lucky enough to be high born.”

“I wouldn’t call it lucky.” I muttered mostly to myself. 

“Neither would I. But to them, to the people that only get to watch…”

“It all does seem rather glamorous. Just another mask to put on.” I bit my tongue, cursing myself for saying too much. To my surprise, Tarquin only nodded along. 

“Better to let them think it’s all parties and banquets. It means we’re doing our jobs well enough.” Once again, silence blanketed itself over us. Both of us were aware that our conversation had drifted to something too real. As I looked out at the ocean and saw the tide starting to swell again, I felt disgust ebb through me. I hoped Feyre had made it out by now. That she had gotten the book. We would be leaving tomorrow regardless. Tarquin must have noticed the look on my face, the pensive far-off look. 

“Are you sad to be leaving?” Luckily he had misread my emotions. I nodded, not entirely lying to him.

“Your home is beautiful and it’s nice to be given a break from Hewn city. Sometimes when I wake it, it’s hard not to think I’m still…with her.” He grabbed my hand in his as I spoke. As I looked into his sea green eyes, I had never felt more disgusted with myself. He was kind and trusting and so naive. It felt too easy. Any other high lord, one that had been around longer, would have never let my brother or Feyre out of their sight. Pretty face or not. But the High Lord in front of me didn’t hold an ounce of suspicion for my court. Had told Feyre that much during their trip earlier in the week. It made my stomach twist. 

“She left our mark on all of us, it’s our job to make sure someone like her can never have that chance again.” My throat felt tight and I couldn't speak. He was a good male without a doubt. I only hoped he would forgive us for what we had to do, and would be willing to hear us out after all is said and done.  

AS if the mother herself sensed my words, an alarm rang from within the castle. Tarquin jumped, pulling his hand from mine as a  figure appeared next to us. I hoped the sigh of relief wasn’t too loud as I saw Rhys. It’s done. We need to go now. Tarquin’s head was whipping back and forth between his palace and my brother. I knew I would never be able to forget the look of pure disbelief in his eyes as the pieces clicked into place. 

“I’m so sorry.” I took a step towards him as Rhys wrapped an arm around my waist and the moonlit water of the summer court disappeared around me. 

My knees gave out as soon as I felt the ground return underneath me. Azriel was at my side instantly, hands quick to wipe the silent tears off of my face. I pushed myself away from him. So disgusted with myself I could hardly breathe. My brother paid no attention to me, instead turning his focus to Feyre. I let out a mix between a sob and a laugh as I saw her pull out the book. Azriel just pulled me back against his chest. And my treacherous body relaxed in his hold. That familiar smell of nighttime and pine and something so Azriel that I couldn’t help but calm down. I clung to him tighter as Feyre struggled to open the book. Scared that this had all been for nothing. Then the sick voice echoed through the room. A language I couldn’t quite make out but chilled me to my very core. Like the book had been made of nightmares themselves. Even Azriel tensed beside me, wings flaring before I felt them wrap around me. The voice burrowed into my brain sending a fresh wave of tears down my face. Then, just as sudden as it had started it stopped. Feyre held the now opened box in her lap, refusing to look into it. 

Amren finally looked and pulled away, swearing. She looked…scared. It was a look so out of place on her face that I almost couldn’t clock it. But as she looked back at the book I recognized the pure terror flickering behind those quick silver eyes and I wondered out loud what exactly we had gotten ourselves into. 

I didn’t stay to discuss the events at the summer court with the rest of my family. As it was, Azriel had to all but carry me to my room. Maybe I was being dramatic but the last few days mixed with that look from Tarquin had worn heavily on me. Waves of guilt kept roaring through me. Enough so that I simply let Azriel place me onto my bed, feeling too disgusted with myself to be in his presence any longer. He only pressed a light kiss to my forehead before he pulled the curtains shut and left my room. 

Azriel didn’t return until later the next day. When I finally was able to look him in the eyes I saw nothing but concern in those hazel eyes. Concern I didn’t deserve or want. 

“Talk to me.” He pleaded. I shook my head, a small sniffle the only sound I made. Willing the tears away. I didn’t even deserve to be crying for myself. He sighed heavily and pulled me into his lap. I was so upset that I didn’t even consider the intimate hold. I just curled up tighter into myself and let him rock me back and forth. 

“I’m a horrible person.” I sobbed into his chest, unable to hold back the tears. 

“Rhys told me everything. You’re not. They don’t know it yet but this could save us all.” I didn’t let his words comfort me. 

“He’s so kind. It sickens me to think that I might be the reason he stops being kind.” My voice broke. The admission was unbearable. 

“He’ll deal with it.” I sniffled one more time before I started to calm down. 

Tarquin did in fact deal with it. In the form of four blood red rubies delivered to Hewn City that morning. I swore when Rhys placed it on my bed. “Azriel’s already sweeping the border, so if you decided to have a melt down on me again, you’ll be waiting for a while for someone to comfort you.” Half a tease and half a plea for me to keep it together. I tossed the ruby to the floor, letting it roll under my bed. 

“You really know how to comfort a female, Rhys. It’s a miracle we aren’t having to peel Feyre off of you, truly.” I spit at him. 

“Be angry at me all you want, but get your shit together. You’ve, we’ve, done far worse things.”

“To people that deserved it.” I whispered back. And that was the root of it all. The way we had done unspeakable things to people in the past had never bothered me, because they would have done the same if they got the chance. But sweet, naive Tarquin…

“He’ll understand in time.” Was all he offered, and I saw red tinge the edge of my vision. 

“But at what cost? He’s a good ally to have if we come down to war and we very well might have pushed him into Hyberns hands.”

“If it takes a simple theft for him to go to Hybern then he was never truly an ally.” I wanted to slap the cock-sure look off of my brother's face. 

“Send in Azriel when he gets back.” Dismissal clear in my tone. Rhys looked at me, but I turned away from him. He said my name softly. 

“Get.Out.” I gritted out, picking up a pillow to throw at him but when I turned around he was already gone. 

Azriel did come to my room later in the day, but only long enough to bring me food and say goodbye. He was doing more patrols, checking  his network of spies for any word that Summer might be preparing to send soldiers to our doors. He left before I could say anything to him, only leaving a single shadow behind. It stayed near my bed until I ate the food Azriel had brought for me. Then, and only then, did the shadow retreat to the corner of my room, making me feel a little less alone as I drifted off to sleep. 

It took days for me to finally come out of my room. Nothing compared to the weeks of waiting for the queens to reply to our request. Rhys didn’t have to inform me I would not be coming to the meeting and I didn't have it in me to argue with his decision. He would keep an open line to me from the human lands and I would be able to add my two cents if it was needed. But after my reaction to Tarquin, wwe couldn’t risk another break down on my end. As much as everyone understood where I was coming from, they knew the role I played weighed heavily on me and if I was to attend the meeting I would need to play my part perfectly. A part I didn’t want to play at the moment. That would leave me with Amren, the ancient fae had not let the book out of her sight since it had been given to her. Rhys and I were the only others who had an inkling of how to translate the equally as ancient language, but it took me far more concentration than it took her. 

She didn’t seem to care because no sooner had my family left before she was hauling the book onto the table in my office. The map had been moved to a larger table so she sprawled out sheets of paper with random sentences scribbled onto them, like she was translating faster than she could write them down. I stared at the pages until my eyes began to blur over. Amren shot me a dirty look when I pushed away from the table rubbing my eyes. 

“Weak.” She muttered to herself and I didn’t dignify her taunt with a reply. I had nothing to prove to her, and she very well might be right. I didn’t have the same pull to war like she did, planning it was hard enough. Despite how naturally it came to me, I despised the scheming and backstabbing that usually accompanied it. I didn’t spare her a glance as I walked out of the room, leaving her to her own devices to try to make sense of the pages of the book. 

It was around dinner time when everyone appeared in the front room of the house. I could feel the tension radiating off of Rhys and I wondered why he hadn’t tried to contact me. Until I followed him into his office and he spun around, looking like he was ready to attack me. 

“They want proof that we’re not the court the rumors suggest. They want to see behind the mask.” He spit out, hands lacing into his hair looking like he might pull it from his roots. 

“What are you going to do?” I asked him softly. Taking very slow steps towards him. He growled before he pushed the contents of his desk to the ground. He stood, chest heaving rapidly as he just stared at the floor. 

“I’m going  to show it to them. For the first time since its creation, I’m going to show someone Velaris.” He sunk into his chair, like his legs would no longer support him. I sensed Cassian and Azriel behind me then. I shot them a look that told them to get out and they left as quickly as they had entered. I walked over to my brother and wrapped my arms around him. The sob he let out shook me to my very core and I could only hold him tighter. NO words of encouragement found their way from my throat. 

“I’m sorry for judging you so much over the last weeks.” He said once the sobs had stopped echoing around the room. 

“You were only trying to-”

“I was only being selfish. You made a hard choice and look at me the moment I’m presented with one.” 

“You’re allowed to feel things, Rhys.” A conversation we had had far too many times. He shook his head against my shoulder.

“Not if this is what it does to me. Not if it puts my family in danger.” He sounded so broken and exhausted. 

“You don’t have to do this alone.” My words only made him start sobbing again. And I just held him, not trusting myself to speak as he cried himself out. 

We didn’t speak of the events in his office, that singular moment of weakness from my brother and the others knew better than to ask. The withering glare I had shot Amren when she even attempted to pry served as warning to leave it be. They let it be as the focus quickly turned to the trip to Hewn city. The Veritas orb would be the only way the queens would ever truly believe us. 

So we all prepared. Dressing in finery like it was no different than our fighting leathers. Because in that wretched court they were synonymous. Lipstick akin to war paint and a lethal smile more than just an expression.

I dug in the back of my closet for the ballgowns I reserved only for these occasions. The one I chose for tonight was made of a fabric so black it looked purple. Cut outs at my waist and a neckline that nearly dipped to my navel. Twin slits up the legs that closed right under my hip bone. I left my hair down as I usually did, pinning it to one side of my head. Slipping in my crown I didn’t give myself another glance in the mirror. 

The dress left no room for weapons anywhere on my body but Azriel would be by my side as we searched for the orb. And hopefully he wouldn’t have to even think of using the polished blade that sat on his hip. 

Mor and I arrived first. Winnowing ahead of the others to announce our arrival. There weren't many preparations to be made, the court never one to stop partying. Only stopping enough to sleep or the occasional formal dinner. So Mor and I waited. And waited. Kier grew ever impatient at the lack of my brother's appearance. 

“He’s your high lord, he can come and go whenever he pleases.” My voice the perfect picture of an ice cold princess. Stuck up and full of mirth. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes of course, I just wish to go back to my own festivities instead of waiting for him to grace us with his presence.” 

“You will wait as long as he sees fit.” I bared my teeth at him and all he did was give me a wicked smile. I fought to keep my face even, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling me. 

Mor was shifting from foot to foot. Looking at her, you would think she was bored, but her tight grip on her arms was the only indication about how uncomfortable she was. Standing in the same room as her father. Neither of them so much as looked at the other. 

“Why don’t you go check on the others. Make sure they remembered we were coming.” I said to Mor, giving her an excuse to leave if only for a few minutes. She didn’t say anything, just gave me a tight nod in appreciation. When she arrived, her face was grim before that mask of indifference snapped back into place. I would have to ask her about it later. 

I almost sighed in relief when I saw my brother, Feyre in tow behind him, walk through the heavy obsidian doors. Kier had already gone back to the main room, my threatening promise of collecting him when my brother appeared. 

“Wait for the others.” Rhys said to me as he brushed by me, steps not faltering as he walked into the throne room. So I waited for Cassian and Azriel. They arrived a few minutes after Rhys had left the room. 

“What happened?” I hissed at them, seeing their glowing siphons. 

“Ambush. We’ll tell you more later.” Azriel said in a clipped voice, shadows whipping around his feet. Clearly agitated. I nodded. 

“You better.” I answered before we all fell into our positions. Azriel on my right and Cassian on my left, me a few paces in front of them. The three of us walked into the throne room. If it wasn’t already silent, the sheer presence of the three of us would have quieted it. As it was, eyes tracked our every move, people all but jumping out of the way of the three of us. Gone were the playful smiles and casual words. Here I was more than just darkness, if Rhys night incarnate and I was something different entirely. The absence of anything, a void. Everyone here had witnessed first hand my powers. The smoke that could incapacitate everyone standing before me, when I had my full powers. Then there was Azriel and Cassian, the wicked spymaster and the bloodthirsty general. 

A path was cleared for us up to the dias where Rhys was standing. Azriel and Cassian knelt at the foot of the marble steps. I joined my brother on the opposite side as Feyre. A feline smile gracing my features as I looked at the kneeling figures of the court. 

“How lovely of you to finally join us.” 

“Call it fashionably late.” Rhys chuckled darkly at my response. With that he walked over to his throne. Pulling Feyre onto his lap. I walked a few paces to stand beside him, my usual position as his sister. I was not expected to kneel for him, instead presenting a unified front. The terrifying high lord and his equally powerful sister. 

I tried to ignore the way Rhys ran his hands all over Feyre. She had already been warned of the role she would have to play while visiting this court. A role she accepted. I admired how bravely she was taking it all. He leaned in to whisper something I tried to tune out. The court is still kneeling, bodies shifting with the strain of the position. As if remembering that they were even there. “Go play.” Was the only acknowledgement he gave them. Dismissing them like they weren’t worth his time anymore. The music began after a few moments. People scramble to do something to distract themselves. 

I walked over to the two warriors as Rhys summoned Kier from his spot near the dias. I fought the urge to hiss at him as he walked by me. I let a small flicker of smoke leak from my hands instead, a threat. He snarled at me and I only let out a low laugh. 

Azriel was already waiting for me. Ready to surround us in darkness to retrieve the orb. We hung by the edge of the room for a little longer, slipping out seamlessly. 

I led the way down the twisting hallways to the vaults that lay hidden underneath Kier’s bedchambers. Azriel needed someone from our bloodline to get in that room, the wards being keyed to our family. We didn’t run into any guards on the way, the wards making it unnecessary.

We entered the cavernous room and began searching. Azriel sent his shadows off through the various tunnels to search ahead of us. We searched through room after room. Silently cursing my extended family for the sheer amount of things they held onto. Jewels and ancient tomes. Records of every dealing of the court of nightmares. I rolled my eyes at the absurd opulence of it all. Azriel’s shadows whipped back to him, wrapping around his shoulders. No doubt whispering of the orbs wearabouts. He grabbed my hand in his as the shadows slunk back to their previous location. The orb was sitting high on a shelf. Out or reach if it wasn’t for Azriel’s wings. He quickly scooped it up and placed it in a bag hidden underneath his leathers. 

We started the walk back to the throne room. The sound of footsteps alerting us of someone else's, several someones, presence. Without thinking, I pulled Azriel’s face close to mine. Bringing a hand up to his face. His hand went to wrap around my waist at the quick movement. 

“Play along.” I whispered to him. I gave a quiet sultry laugh and the footsteps stopped mere feet from us. I jumped back like they had surprised me. Peeling myself off of Azriel. I stepped away, forcing an embarrassed look onto my face. 

The two males only stared at Azriel and I. Taking note of the secluded spot, the space I had abruptly put between us. Predatory smiles graced their faces. 

“Don’t let us ruin your fun.” One said.

“Unless you would rather us join.” The other added. From the lilt of their voices, I could tell they were drunk. Too drunk to realize exactly who they were speaking to like that. I only made a disgusted sound, pulling Azriel behind me as the sound of their laughter echoed through the hallway behind us. 

Azriel and I blended seamlessly into the dancing crowd. The music was slightly more refined than earlier. He didn’t say anything to me as I pulled his hand into mine and put his other hand on my waist. He slowly let his shoulders relax, leaning into me and his footing became more sure. 

It didn’t take long for me to forget why we were doing this, that we had nearly been caught despite his shadows. As I danced with him, I forgot anything but us existed.

The music flowed through me making me feel light as he spun me around the dance floor. I didn’t care about the eyes tracking us across the room. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on my exposed waist. He whispered a joke at something his shadows must have picked up and I threw my head back with laughter. Truthfully I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good. My mind fully focused on Azriel. 

I prayed to the mother he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that had risen along my skin against his touch. 

He dipped me low and I felt my breath stop. His face an inch from mine. It would be so easy to close that distance and feel his lips against mine. Every part of my brain was screaming at me to do it. His shadows raced around us like they could hear my thoughts. My traitorous body locked up when all I wanted to do was pull him to me. He took in the tension in my body and started to pull away. Panicking at the thought of losing his body heat against mine, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him back down to me, right as he started to stand me up. I bit back a moan as I felt the plush of his lips collide with mine. 

It was clumsy and rushed but I sucked down breaths full of him, hand still locked on his neck. His hands tightened their hold against me and he groaned my name before he pushed me away. 

“I’m sorry. I…” all the joy had leached out of me as I took in his face. He looked disgusted and before I could say anything else he was weaving through the crowd, leaving me alone on the dance floor. 

My mind was reeling. Lips still tingling in the aftermath. I had dreamed of that kiss for centuries but never could have predicted his reaction. The tears were streaking down my face before I quickly wiped them away, pushing my way through moving bodies. I needed to get out of this room, get out of this stupid dress that had suddenly become too tight to breathe. 

Before I could rip it off in the middle of the throne room, Rhys caught my elbow and was pulling me down to a quiet hallway. I haven't even realized he had left his throne. 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” I couldn’t answer with anything other than a sob. He took me into his arms and my skin crawled at the contact. I shrugged out of his hold and could only get out one word. “Mor.” I said her name like the lifeline it was. I saw the conflict in Rhys’ eyes. The need to make me feel better and not leave me alone. But as another sob passed my lips he was all but running away to grab the female I had requested. 

I was hiccuping between sobs by the time Mor arrived. Rhys nowhere in sight, probably returning back to that cruel High Lord facade. I don’t think I could have gotten the words out of what had happened if he was still standing beside me. I choked out the words to her. Recounting what happened and Azriel’s less than enthusiastic reaction. Mor was well aware of my feelings and her eyes shone with sympathy. She held me as I cried it out, tears soaking the fabric on her shoulder. Her hold on me helped to ground me and eventually my tears calmed. I gave her the tightest squeeze I could manage and she held me at arms length, examining my face. Her thumbs came up to wipe under my eyes, coming away with streaks of my makeup sticking to them. My own hands brushed along my face and a sigh of relief followed as I noticed my makeup hadn't smudged too much. No one would be able to know the mess a single kiss had just reduced me to. 

Taking Mors outstretched hand, she pulled me back into the main ballroom, music filling my ears again. The tempo had picked up more turning into something I might hear at Rita’s and definitely something you couldn’t waltz to. Couples had retreated to the sides as the dance floor became a breathing pulse instead of the graceful swell of movement it had been earlier. The pairs that had remained grinding against each other. Mor snagged two flukes of champagne as she pulled us deeper into the dance floor. I knocked mine back as quickly as I could and resolved to block out all the thoughts that were racing around in my head. So I danced with Mor until my brow was covered in sweat, my skin glistening at the rising temperature of the entire room. We ignored all the disgruntled looks aimed our way. Not caring if they heard our laughter for once. 

We both laughed as we found our way to the edge of the crowd again, grabbing more champagne. We both hung back catching our breath together and I let out a heavy sigh as I emptied the glass. I spotted the shadows from across the room and all but slammed the glass onto the table behind me. 

“I’m leaving.” Was all I said to Mor as I stalked away. She didn’t try to stop me, only grabbed my arm to winnow me back to Velaris. She didn’t linger. Returning just as swiftly as we had arrived. 

I just made it back to my room before the tears started anew. Ripping the pins out of my hair and peeling the beautiful dress off my shaking frame, I didn’t make it to my bed before I sunk down to my feet. Pulling my knees close to my chest I let the tears come. 

He was allowed to not return my feelings but in those moments on the dance floor that kiss had felt so real. The way I effortlessly fit against him or the laughter that flowed freely from me. It all felt so right and to see that look on his face. It broke some part of me I had been holding onto for so long now. That small dream that he could for some reason ever return my sentiments. That he would ever see me as anything as Rhys’ sister. 

I eventually was able to pull myself into bed and curl myself into a ball. Tears lulling me off to sleep. I must have dreamt that night because I swore I felt those familiar shadows glide over my skin but by the time I opened my eyes they were gone. 

I managed to pull myself out of bed the next morning. Pushing the stinging rejection to some deep part of me. There’s a war at our doorsteps and you’re crying over a kiss. I reminded myself to stop being so pathetic as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. I was the last to arrive apparently. 

“You disappeared rather quickly last night.” Cassian said to me, tone teasing but laced with questions. 

“We got the orb, and I no longer wanted to be there.” I shrugged. Pointedly ignoring the gaze of the shadowslinger I could feel burning a hole in the side of my head. I didn’t talk to him all morning, suddenly finding someone calling my name when he tried to speak to me. It was childish, sure, but I didn’t have it in me to discuss it without breaking down in front of him. As it was, I could barely make eye contact with him. My lips tingled every time I look at him. A feeling that I imagine must be similar to being struck by lighting erupted over my skin. I couldn’t be in the same room as him. Lucky for me, Rhys had called me into his study to go over the events of last night. What that would mean for our upcoming trip to the queens.

I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice that Rhys had stopped talking. 

“What happened to you last night?” Rhys asked in a soft voice. I shook my head. If I started talking about it I wouldn’t be able to stop. Rhys would know everything.

“Weren’t you just the one telling me you don’t have to do this by yourself. Gods just let me help you.” 

“You can’t fix this, Rhys.”

“Why not?”

“Azriel kissed me.” He tensed at my rushed words. 

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was cold as death. I shook my head.

“Not the way you mean.” He tapped his hand impatiently against his desk, waiting for more of an explanation. So I sighed and told him everything. 

“How long have you been in love with him?” He asked when I finally finished my story. 

“I’m not-” His pointed stare made me wither. “Only a few years after you became high lord.” I admitted. He had the audacity to laugh. 

“Cassian and I called it.” I gaped at him.

“Not out loud or anything but we always assumed.” 

“That’s all you have to say about this?”

“You’re an adult. He’s an adult.” 

“So you have no idea why he reacted that way.” He looked sheepish at my question. Hands going to pick at an invisible piece of lint. “Rhysand.” He flinched as I said his full name. 

“No. I have no idea.” He threw his hands up in the air before he said “Have you tried, I don’t know, talking to him yourself?”

It was my turn to look sheepish. 

“That explains why you’ve been avoiding him all morning then.” A smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“And I’m sure you were whispering all about the mating bond in Feyre’s ear last night?” I returned. 

“Touche.” 

“Who would have guessed, the two scariest fae in all of Pyrthian and we run with our tails between our legs at the thought of a romantic relationship.” 

“Pathetic truly.”

“If only they could see us now.” I joked back. 

I felt better after my talk with Rhys, lighter even. It was nice to have him know even if it meant I would have to endure his teasing at times. Azriel said nothing about my change in mood as I finally acknowledged him, Rhys making a lewd gesture behind the spymaster. I fought to keep my laugh down. Azriel looked behind his shoulder to find a perfectly still Rhys, his head turned back to me and then to Rhys again, like he might catch him if he moved fast enough. 

“We should-” He started before I held up a hand.

“Not necessary. I got the message loud and clear.” He deflated ever so slightly at my words and didn’t say anything else. So I carried on about my day as usual, until it was time to get dressed for tonight.

The gown I wore tonight was vastly different from the one I wore to Hewn city. This was a silver, tiered dress. Ruffles formed to look like butterfly wings and encrusted with gems on the edges. The neckline was far more modest than my other dress, swooping gently right under my collar bone. I couldn’t help but twirl in the mirror. Giggling at the rainbows the clear gems threw across the ceiling. It truly was a gorgeous dress. One I had custom made from one of the shops in Velaris. 

I didn’t wait for any of the others to join me. I had gotten ready at the house of wind so I could join the festivities the moment I was ready. Too excited to waste one minute with Mor fussing about her hair. I stood on the balcony, eyes already searching for those little flickers of starlight. 

“You look beautiful.” A voice behind me said, making me jump. I haven't heard Azriel approaching behind me. He stood beside me by the railing, leaning on his elbows. It was peaceful, standing next to him with the wind brushing against my skin. The events from last night eddying out of my mind with him so close to me. 

“I missed this.” I nearly whispered to him. Looking out at the lights of the city I loved. Hearing the laughs and joyous shouts of everyone above us. It was all too much and not enough, the thought of it bringing happy tears to my eyes. Tears that I felt scared hands wipe away before I could. “I’m sorry. I just… I never thought I would see this again.” His eyes filled with a deep sadness. Before he could open his mouth to speak again, Mor called my name. Rushing over she put a glass of champagne in my hand, pulling me upstairs with the other. Azriel trailed behind us. 

I looked over my shoulder and gave him a soft smile that he returned. Cassian was waiting for all of us, talking to some pretty female that was batting her eyelashes at him. He didn’t give her a second glance when he spotted us approaching, the female calling his name as he retreated from her side. I could have laughed at the look she gave all of us but I didn’t have time to think about it as Cassian swept me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Look at you all dolled up, princess.” Cassian said as he held me at arms length. 

“Couldn’t have you upstage me” I winked at him which only made him throw his head back with laughter. I joined in and felt a weight uncurl from my shoulders. 

“Come on.” Mor said as the music started to pick up. The telltale sign that the best part was just ahead. My eyes searched the crowd for my brother. I wanted to share this moment with him. I caught the outline of wings on the balcony above us. Tucked away enough that I really had to search for him. I saw the sparkle of Feyre’s dress and a warm smile plastered itself to my face. His arm was wrapped around her waist. I looked away, giving them their privacy. 

No sooner had I looked back to the sky did I see the faint trails of light beginning to fill it. First one, then a few more, then the sky was full of the brightly colored trails. Bits of stardust landed in the river below us, covering the surface with their glittering color. Mor grabbed my hand, pulling me into a uneleagant dance. Cassian and Azriel joined in a few moments later. The four of us not caring about the moves we made, simply soaking up each other's company. Azriel wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side and I felt my heart skip a beat. Mind instantly going back to our dance at the court of nightmares. He shot me an almost apologetic smile that told me he was thinking the same thing. I shrugged at him. Nothing to apologize for. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Simple as that. It didn’t have to mean anything, nothing more than the heat of the moment decision. As much as it hadn’t been that for me, as much as it stung to know that’s all he saw it as.

 Shaking the thoughts away, I grabbed his arm and swayed gently to the beat. Cassian and Mor devolved into a dance that was more jumping than dancing. They wrapped their arms around each other howling with laughter. 

I felt the glittering substance hit my arm. Looking down to inspect it, I noticed Azriel’s wings sporting their own splatters. It took every ounce of brain power I possessed not to reach up and brush it off of those beautiful wings. Instead I dipped a finger through the dust on my arm and wiped a streak over Azriel’s cheek. He stared at me in disbelief before a booming laugh left him. The sound warmed my heart. He laughed like this so rarely, truly carefree. It seemed so natural to lean in and rest my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me as we just stood in each other's embrace. I tilted my head up so  I could see his hazel eyes already looking down at me.

“Azriel I…”

He let me go when Mor cried out my name, cutting off my words.

“You’re not nearly drunk enough.” She said pulling my arm to the table holding the full glasses. I turned to look at Azriel but he seemed to have disappeared already. His shadow trailing across my shoulder being the only indicator he had even been there. 

Mor and I stayed on the rooftop until the sun started peaking over the horizon. Coloring the Sidra a beautiful pink and orange. Sighing heavily as the lingering effects of the alcohol had started to wear off finally, leaving nothing but exhaustion in their wake. Mor simply grabbed my arm and winnowed us back to the house. 

Cassian and Azriel were asleep on the couches. A bottle of whiskey sitting empty on the table between them. They wouldn’t wake up until later in the afternoon. I threw blankets over both of them and started heading to my own room. I didn’t stay up long enough to bathe nor did I peel myself out of my dress. Suddenly too exhausted to even keep my eyes open. 

I woke up sometime in the late afternoon. Rhys all but pulled me out of bed.

“We're leaving soon.” That woke me up. With a curse I stumbled over myself to get to the bathing room. I took a hasty bath, washing away the remaining stardust that was stuck to my skin. I braided my hair and dressed in my Illyrian leather. Daggers slid into their place on my thigh. I strapped my sword to my back and was down to meet the others in less than thirty minutes. Rhys gave me an approving nod. 

Going to Windhaven never got any easier. I had no love for my old home. It was only a blessing from the cauldron that I haven't been born with wings. The cruelty I faced growing up was enough. The shudder that racked through me had nothing to do with the cold. 

I ignored the sneers from passing by males. Azriel and Cassian tight by my side serving as a buffer for the nasty comments that were usually thrown my way. Feyre was silent beside me, taking in the sights around her. 

We walked until Lord Devlon walked in front of us. A brutish male that was one of the few people in this world I can say I truly hated. Mor snarled at the mention of the girls they were supposed to be training. 

“And why aren’t the males helping them with the chores?” I dared to ask him. He looked at me like I was no more than a speck of dirt on his leathers. 

Before Devlon could grace me with a response Rhys cut him off. The demanding voice of a high lord telling him to clear out our old house. The tone even Devlon couldn’t argue with. 

Rhys, Feyre and I stood in the clearing. Time and time again she reached her power out, getting stronger each time. I practiced along with her. She stood in awe of the mist that poured out of my hands, getting thicker each time until it hugged the ground like fog. 

“When did you meet Tamlin?” Feyre asked after a string of questions about Illyria. Rhys and I both stiffened. The mist instantly retreated back into my hands. 

“Show me something impressive and I’ll tell you.” She rolled her eyes but did it anyway. Holding out her hand she conjured a butterfly out of the water in the snow. It was very impressive. 

“I’ve known Tamlin since he was young. The more decent children of the high lords at the time. Definitely better than Berons bunch.” He almost shivered and I willed the earth to swallow me whole. “And significantly better than his brothers, who knew from the moment Tamlin was born he would be high lord. He was the lesser of the evils so I decided it would be better if we were friends… I don’t know why but I even taught him some illyrian techniques.” 

“Did anyone know?” He shook his head. I blanched at the thought of how angry our father would have been had he known about Rhys and Tamlin’s friendship. Rhys looked to me, knowing the next part of the story was mine to tell. I just nodded at him, giving him permission to say the words I couldn’t. 

“When my father got wind of our friendship… for lack of a better term. He decided it was time for the two courts to align themselves more. And that’s where this gets even more complicated.” He trailed off, once again looking at me. 

“Why?” Feyre pressed on and I wish she hadn’t , wish she would have let it go at that. 

“Because the only way to join the courts in any way my father deemed worthy was to marry them together. Literally.” Feyre’s eyes went wide and her gaze landed on me. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Shame rising up, tightening my throat. Rhys continued. 

“We all saw the power that Tamlin had, the power that marked him as the next High Lord of spring. And without any sisters for me to get paired off to, that left one option.” He shrugged over at me. 

“What happened? I mean, I’m assuming you never…never went through with it.” I took a deep breath, willing my voice to work. 

“I moved to the spring court, I tried to fight it but my father would absolutely not hear it. Every plea fell on deaf ears. So I went because I had to,” my hands were shaking as I pulled up the memories. “It wasn’t so bad. Tamlin was different back then, sweeter, less guarded. At least when he wasn’t around his father. We became friends over time. But the closer we grew, the more protective he got over me.” She nodded, understanding the feeling. “Eventually it became a little more. He fell faster than I did, I never really saw him as more than a close friend but we were supposed to be married so I played along. Wishing every day that I could return his sentiments. Calanmi came that next year and he sought me out.” She paled at my words, her hand rubbing absentmindedly at her neck. I quickly added. “It wasn’t horrific by any stretch of the imagination. If I had said no, regardless of the magic, he wouldn’t have done it. Would have stopped. But that was when everything shifted for him. I couldn’t go out to the gardens without having his sentinels on my tail. Was damn near confined to only the house. Lucien wasn’t around as much then, still fairly new to the court. And of course, his father was watching our every move. Gauging the relationship as it progressed. Watched as I withered away under Tamlin’s overbearing protection.” I couldn’t stop the words as they flowed out of my mouth. 

“I pushed back as much as I could. I was constantly sneaking out which only made him more overbearing. We fought more than we didn’t. Both of us said and did horrible things to each other. I knew I couldn’t live like that forever. Couldn’t continue to suffer just because my father had some grand plan.” I finally met Feyre’s eyes and I almost flinched at the understanding in them. Of course she would get it. Her own experience was not too different from mine. She nodded at me, a sign to keep going. 

“So I started planning how to get back home. I couldn’t just winnow away in the dead of night. I knew he would come looking for me. I knew he wouldn’t let me go that easily. I had to break whatever love he thought he held for me, I had to make him let me go willingly. It wasn’t peaceful by any means. I went too far one day in an argument and for the first time ever he lost control.” I pulled up the arm to my jacket, letting the glamor fall away on the three angry claw marks that I never let heal. A reminder of just how destructive both of our tempers had gotten. 

“Why do you seem so calm about this, why didn’t you let me know…I would have-” Her skin was rippling with darkness. Fire flickering from her palms. 

“Would have what, Feyre? You were willing to die for him. I couldn’t take that away from you. I wanted to believe he could change, that he would be better to you. But that is simply how he loves.” I took a steading breath. “I said we both did some terrible things to each other and I stand by that. He’s a villain in my story as much as I am in his.” 

“We simply didn’t want to think we were trying to turn you against him” Rhys echoed. 

Rhys reached for her as she was already walking towards him. My ears barely picked up the whispered words. 

“I want to paint you.”

“Nude would be best” I rolled my eyes as Rhys reached to winnow me with them. 

I was able to catch up with Mor and Cassian as they surveyed the newest girls in training. Most of them were too scared to even pick up a sword, their eyes not moving from worriedly staring at Cassian. Signing, I stepped up in front of him. 

“Magic or no magic?” He asked, raising a challenging eyebrow to me. 

“Magic.” That gave him full permission to use his siphons. That was one department where I needed the practice as much as he did. I tried to pull all my focus on that kernel inside me. The smoke curled out from me before it retreated the moment I moved towards Cassian.

“Try harder.” He growled at me. And I did. I’d been able to coat the ground in the black fog. Cassian stepping to avoid it, but it followed him like a serpent. Twisting and curling around him. It was easier this time. More like trying to pull it through murky water as opposed to a brick wall. Something had changed since this afternoon. It was easier to hold onto it, and didn't leave me as breathless as before. It took a few more tries but I was even able to move around, the fog still staying on the ground. When we were done, I noticed Mor was coaching three of the girls who had been brave enough to pick up swords. I smiled at Cassian as we both watched her. It wasn’t much but it was progress. Slow progress but a start. 

All of us sat around the fire that night. Gathering as close as we could, trying to gain any sort of warmth from it. Feyre looked like her hands might just fall off, not built for or used to the frigid temperatures the night brought with it. We sat absently chatting as we all ate. Mor was going to Hewn city in the morning and Azriel had already left to scout out the human lands. I wasn’t happy with the idea of him going alone but he waved off my concern, promising me he would be safe. Mor, true to her word, left before the sun had even risen the next morning. Grumbling my good bye to her through sleep filled eyes. 

Rhys had convinced me to train with him and Feyre again. Impressed by the progress both of us had made so far. Feyre and I traveled further back into the clearing, putting space between her and my brother. I didn’t ever ask him what exactly had happened during starfall but the tension between the two was palpable and I didn’t blame her for needing space. As much as I hated being away from Azriel, the distance was nice. I felt like I was suddenly unable to think clearly around the shadowslinger. Thoughts more often than not drifting towards the memory of his lips on mine, his hands around my waist. 

A voice I recognized called out Feyre’s name. And to my horror it was not my brother but Lucien standing in the middle of the clearing. 

I stood by, ready to use my powers at the first sign from Feyre. Lucien and the wraiths at his side had yet to notice me. 

I hung onto every word of their exchange. Someone tipped us off that you had been here. Rage boiled my blood. Devlon no doubt being that someone. I took a step forward as Feyre stepped back. 

“Tamlin hasn’t been himself. We’ll take you back-

“Touch her and I kill you.” There was no warmth in my voice for my old friend. Lucien spun around so he was facing me. Giving Feyre time to put space between the two of them. He stared at me, mouth gaping. Smoke was already swirling around my feet. It would take nothing for me to reach out and get Feyre out of here. But this was her battle to fight. I wouldn’t make that choice for her. I felt my self control start to slip as he opened his mouth again.

“Of course. What poison have you been spewing into her ears?” He spit at me. 

“Don’t make this about me.” I spit back so harsh, he flinched. A twig snapping had Lucien whipping back to face Feyre. 

“Let’s go home.” He said as he reached out a hand. I reached for my dagger, wondering if I would be fast enough to sever it from his body if he reached any closer for her. 

“That stopped being my home the moment you let him lock me away inside.” She spoke, quiet as death. He at least had the decency to look ashamed. 

“He made a mistake. He’s sorry, we’re both sorry.” I couldn’t help the scoff that left my mouth. He only ripped his gaze on her away for a second. 

“All this time and you can’t come up with better excuses, Lucien?” I goaded him, “Will he change? Will he be better if she just gives him time?” I felt the fog thin out by my feet. I didn’t pay it any mind. 

I lunged forward the same time Lucien did. A shout leaving my mouth. But his hands found nothing. Feyre was now standing behind him with Rhys at her side. I didn’t let myself relax. 

“Didn’t your mother tell you what the word no means?” Lucien did nothing by spit at my brother's feet. But it was that one word from his mouth.Whoring prick. That had me lunging for him. A firm arm across my chest from Rhys was the only thing holding me back. 

“You made your point Feyre-now come home.” He reached his hand out again but feyre only stepped back. 

“You gave up on me.” The way she spoke those words hit me like a punch in the gut. Lucien’s eyes flickered over to me. No doubt remembering me saying similar things. I was suddenly very far away until I saw those beautiful IIlryian wings peek over her shoulder. Lucien to his credit did not fall as he stumbled back. 

“What did they do to you?” Horror laced his words. Good. 

“Tell Tamlin I won’t be coming back. That if he sends anyone for me, I’ll show him exactly what we do to those who wander into our court.” I felt no sympathy at the hurt that washed over Lucien's face. 

“You’re dead. You and everyone in your court.” He was gone before I had the chance to lunge at him. 

“Scheming prick. Stupid, overconfident bastard.” I kept shouting, kicking the snow around me. I had half a mind to go track him down at the spring court and finish the job I should have done a long time ago. It wasn’t truly Lucien I was mad at, no he was simply the messenger. Once again trying to clean up Tamlins messes. It was either that or have no court to call home. Anger flared through me at the thought. How Tamlin took advantage of Lucien’s situation and turned him into nothing more than a mindless crony. I didn’t pay attention to the words Rhys and Feyre spoke around me. Didn’t even notice Cassian flying in beside me until he gave my arm a small shake. I ripped it out of his hold without even thinking, letting loose a snarl. He spoke my name, reminding me of where exactly I was.

“You’re all safe. Come back with me.” He said, moving closer to me again. I felt the tears already sliding down my face as he scooped me into his arms. 

I hardly moved for the rest of the night. The shivers that ran through me had nothing to do with the cold. Azriel was still hunting for lingering signs of Lucien or the spring court so that left Cassian to deal with me. Something he was not known to be the best at, despite his best efforts. 

I sat with him until Mor came to collect us both, whatever business she had in Hewn city officially ended. 

She sat with me all night. Both of us curled up against each other as we slept. 

Rhys and Feyre were supposed to be back later in the day so we all waited around for them. Hour after hour past and not a word from them. Azriel had left once again when we told him as much. He returned an hour later. 

“Nothing?” I asked him. He slammed his sword down on the table. 

“Not a damn thing.” He huffed, storming to one of the rooms in the back of the house. 

It was almost nightfall and I had been pacing back and forth across the living room of the small house when I heard a noise from outside. All of us were on our feet, rushing outside before we could think better of it. 

The sigh of relief that left me quickly turned into a gasp as I saw Rhys fall to his knees. Cassian and Azriel were on their side of him instantly. Feyre was still standing, in perfect shape actually. Good enough that she was able to march right past me and into the house. The two Illyrian warriors all but dragged Rhys into the house before leaving to go collect Majda. Feyre or Mor were nowhere to be seen.

Rhys’ eyes opened slightly and he only called out Feyre’s name. I shushed him, dabbing a wet washcloth over his head, he was burning hot. Majda came and confirmed what I already knew. Poison. Faebane. 

“He’s healing so he’ll need to just sleep it off,” she rose from beside his bed. “His mate's blood very well might have saved his life. He’ll recover in a day or two.” Her words caught me off guard. His mate. If Feyre knew her blood could heal him…Shit. Casssian and Azriel must have made the connection at the same time I did because when we heard Mor enter the house again, we all ran to find her in the living room. 

We pulled out a bottle of good wine as she confirmed what we had already thought. Feyre knew, no she doesn’t seem happy. No I won’t tell you idiots where she is. Of course, we could find her on our own if need be but it was the idea behind it. Mor only shared the more intimate details with me. Shooing the males out of the room. “Go take care of Rhys if you care that much. He’ll tell you himself.” They both stomped off in a way that reminded me of toddlers, walking into Rhys room. Mor rushed the words out. Feyre was fine overall, just pissed at him at all of us for keeping something this big a secret. I didn’t blame her one bit but it still stung a little that she was mad at all of us. Did she know how much we had been begging Rhys to tell her? 

Rhys woke up in the middle of the next day. He winced as I slammed the door

“How did she find out?” 

“Hello to you too. No, how nice to see you Rhysand, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“How did she find out?” I asked again. He sat up a little more, wincing slightly

“She trapped the Suriel.” I balked at him. “It seems it’s not the first time she's done it either.” 

Feyre had trapped the Suriel… that could mean. I didn’t want to get my hopes up but I was already on my feet. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Stay out of it, Rhys.” I closed the door a little softer. It took me practically getting on my knees, begging, to convince Mor to take me to the house she tucked Feyre away in. She only agreed when I promised I wouldn’t mention my brother. She needed to bring Feyre more food anyways.

I stood outside the door, feeling very stupid as I held a basket full of food for her.“If you’re asking me to forgive him, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Feyre had only opened the door an inch

“I need you to tell me how to catch the Suriel.” She opened the door wider

“Why do you want to know?” She motioned me into the house and I looked around wildly. The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air and covered her skin. 

“I have something I need to ask. Please. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially right now. But please.” 

I stood in the middle of a clearing, new cloak in hand. My hands had frozen on the walk over but I had to talk to the Suriel. I knew it was around here, if it had talked to Feyre only the night before. The snare I made was sloppy at best. But I prayed to the mother it would work. 

The scream that echoed through the clearing had me running towards the sound, crossing my fingers. 

It had indeed worked. The Suriel had my velvet cloak in its hands.It thrashed violently as I approached, suddenly;y going still as it sensed my presence. 

“ Let me down before I gut you.” 

“I have a question first.” Hollow eyes looked at me, pinning me in place. 

“You seek answers about your curse?” 

“How do I get rid of it?” 

“You already know how. The very thing that the wicked queen knew you would never do.”

“Stop the games. Tell me.” I was shouting, hands shaking. 

“Forgiveness. Forgive the one you hate the most.”

I flinched like the Suriel had burned me. The words swam around my head. I vaguely realized I was shaking my head. 

“That can’t be it.” I pleaded. 

“I am many things, but a liar is not one of them.” I felt the angry tears starting to trail down my face. “Now let me go. I only have so much patience for meddling fae today.” I pulled out one of my jeweled daggers, slicing the rope that held the Suriel’s ankle. As the figure retreated, I sank down to my knees. Forgive the one you hate the most. 

It was a rare occurance to be summoned to her private chambers. Attors on either side of me, ready to strike at the first sign of push back. They unceremoniously threw me into the center of the room, pushing me to my knees in front of the red headed female. 

“Leave us.” She said in a voice that turned my stomach. I dared to raise my eyes off the ground. Rhys was perched in a soft looking chaise, he didn’t hold my eyes for long. The Attors shuffled out of the room but I knew they lingered in the hallway. 

“I hear you’ve been causing trouble again, princess.” It was all I could do not to flinch at the way she said that name. The name my family had called me for centuries. A defiled, twisted rendition of the sign of my family's love. “Well, I have a surprise for you.” Her voice dripped with a wicked delight. From somewhere in the room a noise drew my attention. I completely froze as I saw Tamlin being led out in chains. Even Rhys momentarily broke his mask to glare at him. Amarantha smiled at me as she walked over to him. She squeezed his cheeks in an overly familiar way. “Doesn’t he look good like this?” She laughs at my lack of response, pushing him away from her. He didn’t try to hide his stumble. “No groveling at his feet then? No apologies for the mess you got him into?” 

“That’s no-” An invisible hand around my throat cut off the words. Rhys’ eyes flickered to mine, an apology lingering in his violet stare. 

“Did I say you could speak?” She released her magic and I nearly fell to the ground, sucking in painful gulps of air. She stalked towards me, stopping inches from me. Her hand went out to cup under my chin, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Maybe if you hadn't broken his heart, he would have accepted my offer the first time.” I bared my teeth at her and she gave a sharp cold laugh. 

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Are you sure there’s no kind words for our little High Lord over here?”  I just held her gaze. Not wavering as I saw the fury in my lack of response, my lack of fighting. “Pity. Where’s that sharp tongue of yours now?” She pushed me, I landed on my back. I didn’t even cry out, too familiar with this treatment from her. 

“You’ve made your point.” Rhys said in a bored voice from his seated position. She only gave him a low growl. 

“You’re no fun.” She cooed at Rhys. The same voice you would use on a babe. Despite my best efforts, trails of black smoke so thick it looked like ink left my fingers. Another invisible force collided with my body and my power retreated back to me, my chest feeling like someone had poured ice water into my veins. Before I could even attempt to try again, she lifted me onto my feet by my hair. “As much as I’d love to see you try, I’m bored with you already.” She yanked my head back before releasing her hold on me. “Tamlin, any words of goodbye?” Forest green eyes met mine. After all that I endured in this hell, I had never felt as small as I did now. That simple glare, so full of hatred, reducing me to that same afraid girl I had once been. Tamlin didn’t speak. Neither did I. 

“Shame. You’ll wish you would have said something soon enough.” I didn’t have time to think over her words as the cold hands of the Attor wrapped around my arm, hauling me back to my room. Didn’t make the connection between that slam in my chest with the trickle of power that I was left with. 

It was right there. Amarantha was never one to just give you information. Just like that riddle that had saved us all. Everything had been a game to her, why would this have been any different? But there had to be another way. Thinking back to my encounter with Lucien recently, there was no way in hell I was forgiving any of them any time soon. I would talk to Helion. Go by myself if need be. Because it was going to be a cold day in Hel before I ever forgive Tamlin. 

I called out for Rhys. For anyone to come and get me. It was at least a day's journey on foot back to the boundary line outside of Windhaven. I sat by and no one came after me. I reached deep within myself and imagined the space I wanted to go to. I didn’t even make it half way before I popped back into the cold clearing, panting. I tried again and it was like I was reaching through brick again. My powers boarded up behind walls I could not break through. I kicked at the snow, cursing. I tried one last time, crying out when nothing happened. So I began to walk back, hoping when I got close enough Rhys would hear me screaming for him in my head. It wasn’t Rhys that came to get me. Instead, Mor appeared beside me. 

“Where have you been?” She said when she spied me, half frozen from the wind. 

“Later.” Was all I could get out, I was bone tired. 

“You all really need to get your shit together.” She grumbled under her breath as she winnowed us back to the house. Don’t I know it.

Rhys had gone to apologize to Feyre, and had not been back since. We could only hope that meant all was well, or that she had at least hid the body herself. 

Rhys and Feyre returned the next day. They didn’t even attempt to hide the smell of the bond, and as happy as I was for my brother I gave him a wide berth. Cassian on the other hand only saw the tension in Rhys shoulders, the way his eyes were drifting between Feyre and every other movement around him. 

“Anytime you want a real ride, Feyre, let me know.” As if his words weren’t enough, the wink he sent Feyre had Rhys lunging for him. I had to quickly side step out of the way to avoid being hit by flailing wings. Ushering Feyre into the house I muttered loud enough for her to hear, “Big Illyrian babies.” 

They fought for an hour and despite being covered in blood, Feyre sent Rhys a look that the rest of us could not run away from fast enough. Mor winnowed the two of us to the house of wind. Azriel was already there, wings tucked in tight as he looked out the large window overlooking Velaris. I snuck up behind him, a rare achievement to make the spymaster jump when I placed a hand on his shoulder. The others slowly trickled into the room as we all waited for Feyre and Rhys to join us. 

The sun was just starting to touch the water when we heard them enter. One by one we stood in front of Feyre before giving a low bow, hands on our hearts in an ancient gesture of respect. One she had more than earned. I couldn’t help but smile at my brother's joy, it radiated off of him in waves so strong I swore I could reach out and grab them. The joy of finally having Feyre by his side. Rhys’ eyes followed my hand as I rubbed a small circle into my chest, separate from the sign we had given Feyre. The tension eased slightly.  Rhys quickly looked away before I could ask him why he was staring so intently on me. 

The human world was just as I remembered it. Despite seeing it less than a month ago, I still gawked as we approached Feyre’s family home. I knew she never lived in this particular estate but the idea that Tamlin made this possible for them thawed my heart just a fraction. Forgive the one you hate the most. I haven't gotten the chance to talk to my brother, or anyone, about what Suriel had told me. Everyone too caught up in Rhys and the Queens we were sitting in front of. 

I sat in stunned silence at the vipers in crowns in front of us. The queens I had met before would laugh if they heard these were their predecessors. 

Mor opened the box in front of her and I had to sit on my hands to stop the urge to knock it out of her hands and destroy the orb. Azriel’s hand on my shoulder did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside of me. We all took a collective breath as the bright lights of Velaris filled the orb.

“This is Velaris,” My brother started and I felt his heart shatter in front of me. “For five thousand years, we have kept it a secret from outsiders. This is what I have fought so hard to protect. The cruelty you believe I possess to protect this city, my people. Dreamers and creators and good people with families. People that have never known strife or violence. All of what I have gone through over the centuries was to protect them.” I couldn’t stop the sniffle that left me and I desperately tried to blink back the tears rimming in my eyes. 

“We will..consider this information.” Mor snarled beside me. I felt like the eldest queen had punched me in the stomach. I went to stand but Nesta beat me to it. 

“Give.Them.The.Book” I didn’t discount the single tear streaking down her own face. 

“No.” A word so final I couldn’t breathe. 

“We appreciate the gesture of your trust.” But I could not look away from the way Cassian stood next to Nesta. The calm he emitted from standing so close to her. When I looked back the queens were gone. 

I looked to my brother, head reeling at the events that had just happened. We fulfilled our end of the bargain. Screaming, manipulative-

In Rhys’ hand sat a box, a box not unlike the one Feyre had struggled to open when we returned from the summer court. A surprised noise left my mouth and Azriel tightened his hand on my shoulder, rubbing small comforting circles. 

Nesta and Elain chose to stay in the mortal lands. The sisters are staying in their family home. The last thing I heard before we left was Nesta whispering to Feyre. That’s why you painted stars on your drawer. 

There was no celebration when we arrived back in Velaris. No sense of triumph as we handed the book to Amren. We had gotten what we needed but at what cost. To Rhys, to my family, it had cost everything. All that he suffered during the war, from my father, from the Illyrian soldiers that looked down on him so much. All that he suffered under the mountain, from Amarantha, all the horrible things we had done together. All of it was sacrificed to the wicked queens who still did not know we possessed the book. Queens who would gladly sit back and watch Prythian and their world be destroyed. 

Rhys and Mor went to the Court of Nightmares the next morning, to return what we had stolen before Kier noticed. Azriel and Cassian pulled me into my study to go over the map, planning for the inevitable war. We added more pins to the maps, adjusting the Illryians to their new location scattered across the mountain ranges. Added the black pins for the warriors we prayed Kier would grant us. I don’t know how long we stayed in that room, Cassian and Azriel periodically doing a lap of the house and its perimeter to watch for anyone who would want to hurt Feyre. Overgrown guard dogs. But I found that even I was keeping a more watchful ear out for any sign of trouble, a light cover of fog I kept over my hands like gloves, ready to attack at a moment's notice. 

The next day, Azriel pulled me from the map to accompany him on patrol. Leaving Cassian the great pleasure of entertaining Feyre until Rhys’ return later today. The city held an eerie silence today despite the citizens going about their usual routines. It wasn’t much later than that thought crossed my mind that I felt the ground beneath my feet quake. My head whipped to Azriel who had gone as still as a statue, his shadows scattering out from him searching for the source of the sound. 

“Azriel?” I questioned, looking around the area for any threat. And then I followed his eye line. Eyes turned to the once clear midafternoon sky, now tinged in clouds of darkness. They were moving far too fast to be only storm clouds. 

“Get Amren and Cassian, now” I choked out. Azriel’s arms were around me instantly, taking off into the sky. Feyre and Cassian had gone to the amphitheater on the other side of the city, hopefully they weren’t far from there. A red light filled the sky, a homing beacon to where we would find Cassian. Quake after quake filled the ground as those creatures tore through the shield around the city. They reverberated through the air, Azriel only held onto me tighter.  

Cassian was shooting through the sky and I felt the ground beneath my feet. Azriel stayed long enough to hear me cry out to him, “Be safe.” He was gone. And I was running towards the direction I had seen Cassian fly in from. Screaming filled the air and I reached for the sword on my back, daggers left forgotten on my hip. I gave tentative push of my power and could have cried in relief at the cloud that pushed out from me, however thin it was. I pulled my earlier thought from my mind, the twinge of something I felt as I had looked at Feyre’s home in the human lands, the physical proof of Tamlin taking care of them, I focused all my spare energy onto that single kindness and I watched the fog grow thicker, curling around me in a way that was so familiar.

 I clutched at that feeling as I heard the screams around me grow louder. I could not run fast enough to stop the swarm of Attor like creatures that flooded the streets. I thought of Elain’s sweet face and Nestas beautiful dresses and willed my power to wrap around the creatures in front of me. If they could see me, they didn’t let it show. The only sign I had that my power had worked against them was the choked screams they let out. My sword tinged with their blood as I ran it clean through them. I pulled that black smoke into me, panting as I forced my legs to run ever faster. Reaching out for something deeper, I visualized the next swarm of them I could see and I felt the familiar pressure as I appeared in the middle of them. Shooting my power out with a force I didn’t recognize, I made quick work of them. They didn’t even get the chance to scream this time. I couldn’t focus on the blood that now stained my blade and face. Could only think of the distance between me and the bright pops of red and blue in the sky, the water I could hear roaring just ahead of me. If I had looked up I would have seen the pack of water wolves Feyre was using to chase them from the city streets and back into the air. 

The tremble that took my feet out from under me was one that did not scare me. Rhys had arrived and his rage took out half of their forces. His power filled the air with a metallic scent and I did my best not to think about what the dusting of red was as it covered my skin. A second roar, far stronger than the first one spurred me on. I did not fear the darkness that slipped over my eyes, those stars and nothing short of pure night. When I could finally make out shapes again, I saw the outline of wings, not those gnarled and bony wings of the creatures attacking us, but Illyiran wings, claws fully extended. I didn’t think as I barreled towards the shape. Didn’t think as I launched myself into Azriel’s chest. His arms came to wrap around my waist, pulling me so tight to him I struggled to breath but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I gulped down whatever breath I could, filling my lungs with the scent of him. Heart hammering in time with his own wild heartbeat. The screaming had stopped, leaving only a horrifying silence in their wake. I did not let go of Azriel as he winnowed us back to the townhouse. 

All of us were sitting in the living room of the house in various states of disarray. Mor’s hair was caked with dirt and flecks of blood, her eyes starting to flutter shut. Feyre was curled up next to her also looking like she was ready to fall asleep any moment. 

I could see the gears in Cassian's head spinning. The general already thinking about what this means for the greater battles ahead. Obviously, the queens had sold us out to Hybern. Our home had been used as a bargaining chip and it had bit us in the ass. 

My eyes flickered over to Rhys and I could tell his thoughts were in a similar spot. It wasn’t your fault. I said into his head. He flinched, a disgusted look replacing the grief for a brief second. I told them where the city was, I gave them the information freely and for the first time in centuries an outsider knows about the city and then we get attacked. How is that not my fault sister? It was my turn to flinch. With Rhys in his current mood, there was no point in trying to argue back. So I finally closed my eyes and tuned out the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. I didn’t have the energy to talk about Hybern right now. The throbbing headache behind my temples let me know just how much magic I had used today and let me know how much I needed to start hunting for ways to break this curse.

At some point Azriel had stretched out next to me on the couch, my back to his side. Half asleep, I turned to face him and just grabbed his arm. Curling around him as best as I could in our current position. Someone in the room chuckled as I settled down once again. I don’t know how much time passed as they all just sat and talked. I drifted in and out of sleep but couldn’t piece anything coherent together. At some point I felt Cassian standing over me. 

“Come on let’s get you to bed.” His voice held more humor than I would expect from him after today. My eyes didn’t even open before I said. 

“Move me from here and you will lose that hand.” I snuggled closer into Azriel to prove my point. The male by my side laughed a stiff laugh but wrapped his arm around me tighter. I was too tired to care about the content purr that left my chest at the motion. Too tired to care that he scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to my room. And definitely too tired to hear the three words he whispered to me as he closed my door.

Taglist: @nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nocasdatsgay

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Autumn Delight

Pairing: DI!Leon x fem!reader

Summary: As you cook to welcome the change in season, your daughter plays grocery shopping with her father.

WC: 2.1k

Notes: After reading @cinnarette write for girl dad!Leon, I wanted to add on to the hype and do some fluff because that man deserves it and I want him happy. Also I know I said Death Island Leon for this one, but I imagine him older. Anyways, enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing this one. Reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

The sun shined through the window as you hummed to yourself, the pot in front of you blowing off steam and filling the kitchen with the aroma of sweet tomatoes and fresh herbs. The scent felt nostalgic, like a soft weighted blanket that reminded you of what your mom would make for dinner after you came home from school.

The season was slowly transitioning into autumn now, a more prominent breeze shaking the leaves as they began to change color from their vibrant greens to shades of orange and dark red. Warm air now starting to cool down every passing day, tank tops and shorts exchanged for sweat pants and cotton crew necks. Soon enough, it’ll be time to go apple picking and welcome all things pumpkin, you mostly looked forward to having apple cider come back in stock at your local grocery store. 

A loaf of fresh sourdough bread rested in front of you, already knowing the cheese you needed for this meal was cooling in the fridge, ready to be melted to your heart’s delight. Grilled cheese and tomato soup were on the menu tonight, a nice hearty meal to welcome the first day of fall. You covered the pot of tomato soup, letting it simmer for a while longer. As you were ready to step to the side and tend to other tasks, you heard rambling on the upper floor of your townhouse, already knowing where the source of the noise was coming from.

Stepping out of the kitchen entirely, you went up the stairs, careful not to be too loud as your slippers moved over the hardwood steps. Walking down the hallway of the second floor, you continued until you were met with the white door to your left, wide open for you to take in the view inside.

Your husband was on his knees, surrounded by pastel green walls and soft carpet. Toys were all over the floor, a Barbie dollhouse in one corner of the room and a plastic play kitchen in the other. You leaned against the doorway and let out a snort, trying not to draw attention to the 3-year-old who walked around her bedroom with purpose. The man’s eyes were drawn to yours at the sound of your laughing, vibrant blues paired with soft wrinkles on the rounded corners of his gaze. A pearly white grin came your way, one that drew you to him all those years ago.

“You know, this place is quite small. Limited options”, Leon said, pushing a toy shopping cart that was comically small against him and skimming the shelf in front of him. He tilted his head to the side, finger on his chin as he thought heavily about what to grab next. Of course, he took this decision seriously, looking at the plastic toys resembling different foods from fake cereal boxes to ketchup bottles and eggs.

He reached forward and took a can of tuna, putting it in the cart and moving along. The cart was already full of a few things, plastic fruits and vegetables that were completely necessary. You watched him move around, going to the mini-kitchen that was set up on one side of the room.

“A drumstick in the sink? This is such a safety hazard for a grocery store”, Leon grumbled, knowing his daughter was right behind him, watching him diligently like a good sales associate. Her matching dirty blonde hair and blue eyes looked over him as he reached for the misplaced doll currently folded in the tiny microwave. He tried his hardest not to laugh, putting the doll back where he found it and gave you a glance.

Leon continued to shift around the room, finding plastic cookies on the floor and throwing them in the buggy with dramatic flare. He leaned down on the ground and found more toys littering around him. Grapes were underneath the toddler bed, toy crackers were in the hot tub in the dollhouse, and singular hot dog sausages were thrown in every nook and cranny imaginable.

Just looking at the room was stress-inducing, but the agent didn’t have the heart to be mad or irritated. If anything he was glad to have a mess like this to deal with in the first place. Had someone told him years ago he’d be happily married in a townhouse he bought with a three year old daughter that was his carbon copy, he’d laugh in their face. The image of having a loving family was a dream he had thrown away after the horrors he witnessed at 21. Being exposed to such monstrosities almost fully turned him away from ever thinking of having something more in his life besides fighting manmade monsters. He never thought he’d be able to have a life worth living outside of survival.

That was until miraculously, he bumped into you when he went to try a new cafe that opened in town. Years later having regained that dream he buried deep in his subconscious, he gets to be in a home full of love he never thought he’d get to experience. He has a reason to wake up every day, something and someone to fight for, and he wouldn’t take that for granted.

Leon shook his head and blinked at the sound of your voice, your eyes looking over him once or twice already knowing what happened. He zones out less as he gets older, but it still happens from time to time. Before, his memories used to haunt him, the traumas and burdens he carried would make his nervous system go haywire and put him in a constant state of paranoia. Now, he has moments where he’s reminiscing about his past and feels gratitude instead of self-hatred or fear. You didn’t mind, you accepted all parts of Leon with open arms, even the parts he couldn’t accept himself, and if it weren’t for your support lord knows where he’d be now.

“Hm?”, he hummed, giving you a look and silently admiring you like he often did, as if you were his guardian angel sent to ground him to this current reality.

“I asked if you could pick up some ice cream on your shopping trip”, you told him softly, your daughter now distracted and leaving her post at her fake cash register to collect all of the individual chip pieces she could find.

“Thanks for reminding me hun”, Leon said now returning to the present, shuffling to another part of the room to look for the ice cream pieces. He could only find the plastic waffle cone, not the strawberry ice cream scoop. With a shrug, he put it in the shopping cart as you held in your giggle with a bite of your lip.

Finally facing his daughter, he pushed the cart towards where she stood. Out of the kindness of his heart, he helped the toddler scan and swipe the toys, her small grabby hands reaching for whatever food item he gave her. It was moments like this you enjoyed the most, seeing just how much Leon loves the child you both created and how he treats her like the center of his universe. She’ll never fully understand just how much her dad cares for her, pure unconditional love if you ever saw it.

You couldn’t be more proud to see Leon become the father he never had, and the man he’s always wanted to be.

Leon now started to talk with his mini-twin, giving her sassy remarks as her tiny fingers threw the things she scanned back into his cart rather aimlessly.

“What? No bag? You’ve got to be kidding me”, he teased, playing the part of an angry customer all too well for your child to realize. She wagged a finger at him and pressed the button of the scanner towards his face, a beep sounding through the room as she did. She responded to him with an equal amount of sass, making you snicker under your breath and Leon had to bite his tongue so he didn’t follow you. Not only did your child inherit her father’s most noticeable features, she also got his corniness and attitude.

She continued to scan and beep all of the items until there was nothing left to pass, looking up at Leon with her hand out and demanding him to give the money for his groceries.

“Do you have change for a 20?”, Leon spoke, making you shake your head in disbelief at how dedicated he was in playing his role. He had a fake $20 bill he borrowed from the monopoly board sitting on the coffee table of your living room.

“Mine”, his daughter nodded with a bubbly giggle. She snatched the bill from Leon’s hand with enthusiasm, pressing some buttons on her cash register before the drawer opened with a ding. She pushed the bill inside and closed the drawer with no change in her hand. Leon only gave her a raised eyebrow.

“Wow. Is this how you treat your customers? You know what, I’m just going to go to Trader Joe’s down the block”, Leon playfully threw a hissy fit, making the 3-year-old laugh as she waved at her father and mumbled bye bye.

The blonde got up from his knees with a grunt, walking up towards you and pulling you in by the hips with a smile. Leaning down he kissed you on the cheek, then on the tip of your nose, and finally on your lips as you hummed against him, putting a hand on his chest and the other rubbing the back of his neck. It was an occurring routine of kissing he started years ago when you were still dating, all beginning the day he asked you to officially be his partner.

“You know our daughter is really starting to be more like you every time I see her. I’m getting scared, one of you is enough”, you taunted him, making him chuckle. You couldn’t help but stroke his stubbled cheek, loving the feel of the coarse hairs against your fingers.

“C’mon, you know you can’t get enough of me. I’m not that bad”, he grinned, offering you a corny wink that made you roll your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night”

“I sleep just fine knowing you’re right next to me sweetheart”, he openly flirted with you, a sneaky hand coming towards your rear and giving you a playful tap. “You’re cooking aren’t you?”

“Mhm, grilled cheese and tomato soup, all from scratch”, you told him, noticing how his ears perked up at the sound of cooked food. You learned early on in your relationship that Leon was a foodie and preferred home-cooked dishes above anything else. So you made sure to get your clutches on him by making him some Tuscan chicken pasta, aka marry me pasta, on your 7th dinner date together. Safe to say, he hasn’t left since.

“God I love you”, he declared so frankly and so often that you knew he meant it. You never questioned his devotion to you, and you can tell from the way he says it as if it’ll be the last time that it’s always sincere. 

“I know, you would go hungry without me. I love you too”, giving him another kiss on his lips and letting him savor it.

You heard a tiny voice coming towards you both, something yanking on Leon’s jeans by the shin and forcing him to pull away from you for a minute. He looked down at the smaller blonde, cerulean eyes matching his own like a reflection of himself.

“Yeah sweet pea, what’s up?”, he turned towards her, reaching down to pick her up in his strong arms like he usually did. “You want some of mommy’s food too?”

“Yes! Sammi!”, it slipped out of her mouth, clapping to herself as she got excited at the mere idea of eating whatever was being made. She was always eager to eat, finding joy in the way she gripped her small spork and made a mess of herself with crumbs on her soft cheeks.

A passionate food lover, just like him.

“Hell yeah. Grilled cheese sammi and tomato soup. Let’s go help mommy cook”, Leon said, carrying his baby girl in his arms and marching down the stairs, allowing you to hear her laugh intertwining with his own. You followed them down the steps, watching your husband tickle your daughter’s tummy, beaming from ear to ear.

A warmth fluttered in your chest, silently watching the way they’d talk and interact with one another that would have anyone think they were the same person. You smiled again, going to the stove to stir the pot of tomato soup before you started on the grilled cheese sandwiches. 

You don’t know how you got here to have all that you did in your life, but you wouldn’t change an absolute thing.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[peachdues]

VIOLENT DELIGHTS — TEASER

Tengen’s Tell Me to Stop

A/N: because the more shitty anons bitch about my teasers, the more I’m gonna post because I don’t give a fuck.

Tengen’s installment of my Tell Me to Stop series. A true enemies-to-lovers fic. Read the spicy teaser here.

CW: blood • description of whipping • some angst • Tengen is confused by his own actions here

Ty always to my biggest enabler @marenalee . This fic is dedicated to you bby.

Tengen paled as he watched the villagers wrench the hood off the person struggling against their restraints.

Rough hands shoved Y/N to her knees, hair mussed, eyes wild and murderous as she glowered at her captors. Rope had been tied around her mouth, forcing her teeth to part around its coarse fibers. If he squinted, he could see the way the rope had rubbed the corners of her mouth bloody and raw.

The assassin thrashed against the hold of her captors as they secured thick, iron shackles around her wrists, each one connected to a separate piece of scaffolding that forced her into an awkward, half-star position on her knees. A sour-faced man stepped out from the shadows behind the stage to glare down at her, his puffy, fish-like lips twisted into a disgusted sneer as he spoke. An audience had gathered at the base of the stage, and Tengen felt his gut twist at the excited buzz which rose over them.

Whatever was to come, it was nothing good.

His suspicions were confirmed when he watched the Magistrate turn his head and bark at one of the grim-faced men standing off to the side of the podium. A moment later, and a grubby hand pressed something long and coiled into the Judge’s outstretched and waiting palm.

Tengen recognized what it was at precisely the same moment as the assassin — his nemesis — though he was certain the dread filling his gut was but a fraction of that which filled hers.

In all the months of tormenting her — of even trying to kill her — Tengen had never seen Y/N look afraid. Surprised, sure, but never frightened.

Yet, as the long, cruel tail of the whip unfurled in the Magistrate’s hands, curling down to the wooden slats of the podium, he saw the fear enter her widened eyes — deep and primal.

She was terrified.

(…)

—

The crack of the whip was capped by an ear piercing scream that made Tengen’s blood curdle.

Spring had always been his favorite season; winter was drab and monotonous and summer was too damn hot to appreciate anything, but spring — spring was resplendent with color and life and all things vibrant and exciting.

This village had been awash in springtime’s splendor. The cherry blossoms had bloomed, coating the sloped roofs of houses and restaurants in a soft blanket of pink and white. The streets had been lined with attractive stalls, offering an assortment of food and jewelry and hand sewn silk garments in every hue imaginable, guaranteed to allow even the pickiest shopper to find something suited to their tastes.

But now, all the sounds and smells and sights and warmth had fallen away; now, all the pastels and greens and effervescence of spring had melted into something dull and gray and muted.

Tengen could only see red.

Red was the color of her blood as it dripped from end of the curled, thin length of rope and soaked into the wooden planks of the post.

Red was the color of her flesh, hanging in torn, bloodied ribbons as each lash flayed her open more and more.

Red was the color of Tengen’s fury, hot and vitriolic, saturating everything in his line of vision until the once reverent sights of the village around him faded to amorphous, crimson blurs as he moved.

Red was the color staining his hands as he threw the whip to the side, having wrenched it free from the magistrate’s cruel hands before he’d thought the better of it; and red was the color that now sprout from the magistrate’s nose as he crashed against the blood-soaked slats of the whipping post, bubbling over his swollen lips as he sputtered at the formidable man standing above him.

“If you would like to avoid taking her place, then I suggest you disperse this crowd,” Tengen said coldly. “And do not try and interfere.”

He held the stammering Magistrate’s petrified stare for a moment longer before he turned his attention to his target. Cautiously, the Sound Pillar approached the half-conscious assassin where she’d been partially stripped and chained to the wooden whipping post. Tengen fought to keep the bile in his throat from rising at the way the wooden slats under his feet squished, so heavily saturated with blood from both his enemy and the poor souls which had been subjected to the brutality of the whip before her.

Her head hung limply between her shoulders, bent toward the floor of the post, and her body slumped against the stage. Her arms, however, remained awkwardly stretched out before her thanks to the iron manacles nailed into the post’s scaffolding. Grimly, the Sound Pillar noted that the gallows were to ensure the penalized would be held up and open even well after their body succumbed to the pain of their lashings; a crude display of utter helplessness and submission to the whip.

He said her name, once, and though she moaned faintly under the pull of her restraints as they stretched the ruined skin of her back, she did not stir.

The full horror of her suffering slammed into him as Tengen ran his eyes over her swaying, whimpering form once more. Before he could think the better of it, before his brain could scream at him to stop, to leave her to a fate that was none of his business, the Sound Pillar unsheathed one of the great blades he kept strapped to his back. With a single, mighty stroke, he cleaved the iron chains of her bonds clean in half, and one by one, her arms fell limply to her side.

No longer held up by her forced prostration, Y/N began to fall forward face-first but Tengen caught her before she could make contact with the floor of the blood-soaked stage beneath her. Mindful of her wounds, he laid her limp form over his shoulder and hauled her up, his arms winding around her legs to keep her locked in place. Her arms dangled over his back. As he began to walk, he realized that the tips of her fingers just barely grazed the middle of his spine.

Small; she was so small in his arms. So helpless.

The crowd of townsfolk who had gathered to watch her flogging parted silently for the Sound Pillar as he descended the stairs of the whipping post, unconscious assassin draped over his shoulder, and departed the village without a word.

[malfunctioningemi]

Hi im emi and i think way too much about sk8 the infinity part 261

COLOUR THEORY TIME i just had like, a brain blast in realisation.

Reki is yellow coded, langa is blue. Usually people would ASSUME reki is the "red" character of the show because of his hair, but i think that just helps to show off his passionate and firey personality. His colour is yellow because he is energetic, friendly and most often optimistic (especially when it comes to helping people learn how to skate or make friends)

Langa is blue coded, usually used for quiet, cold and mysterious characters, or those with lots of sadness (think inside out). BUT because he is pastel blue, his sadness is lighter because of people like reki lifting him out if it. He is still young and has time to grow.

Because they are yellow and blue coded, its different from what is the usual trope of red and blue which are most often rivals or opposites. BUT because theyre yellow and blue, theyre actually perfectly made to compliment each other. I like to see it as reki being the sun to langas moon.

Now. You know who IS red coded? Adam. He is passionate and all about love and anger, the two emotions most connected to red. Because he is red, it links into his whole idea of thinking he "belongs" with langa, but he is already fulfilled by being with reki.

Then we see adams colours slowly change from red to that dark blue we see him wearing in the finale. He comes to realise that he was chasing after langa because he thought they were the same (blue = sad and hurt. Adam being a deeper blue means his emotions and sadness runs deeper aka because he has had YEARS longer to sit with his feelings and trauma) but it takes langa, a fellow blue, being happy and excited and wanting to skate with REKI not him, to show him that he doesnt have to put on this red boisterous persona. If we look at Adam through the years, he's never really had a red-coded personality. It's always an act. How he thinks people wANT him to act.

He's a blue, just like his hair and the suit he wears.

Now. Joe and cherry.

Cherry being pink is so INTERESTING TO ME. Its seen as graceful and youthful, but is also just a toned down version of red. Cherry CAN be graceful and composed, but is also full of so much anger and emotion (especially towards adam) and the fact the two are similar in colour makes me so invested. I also think Cherry has a complex colour pallet- being not only pink, but also wearing deep blues and whites. He is elegant and complex.

THEN JOE. oh joe. My deep green giant. He is down to earth (haha get it) and is always trusting his gut with everything, AND IDK IF YOU HAVE NOTICED THIS BUT HE NEVER GIVES BAD ADVICE!! Green is usually associated with grounded and level-headed characters, but green is also the colour of jealousy. Joe doesn't seem like the jealous type, but he has this strange loneliness to him. All he has is his restaurant and Cherry. He never seems to be able to fully grasp what he wants, so finds his fufillment in other places.

Now onto the fact that pink and green ARE opposites and so are cherry and joe. Where cherry is quiet and reserved, joe is loud and energetic. Their lifestyles and jobs couldn't really be more different. They argue and bicker and always seem to know what perfectly annoys the other most.

BUT!! Pink and green (while being opposites) ARE ALSO COMPLIMENTARY!!!! they work well together beCAUSE theyre so different. And being together just seems to work out somehow.

ANYWAYS. Yeah. Sun and moon coded renga are very special to me :)

[ophelieverse]

MORE DAD AEMOND FANFIC 🥺🙏🏻 ITS SO CUTE !!! I LOVE HOW DEDICATED HE IS WITH DRAGONS BUT STILL UNDERSTAND WHAT HIS FAMILY NEED BEST ✨🥲

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰The wild princess and the wild dragon.

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader.

Another part of Daddy Aemond for all of my lovelies.Now is Visenya time to shine and to finally have a dragon,just like her father did.

Thank you for reading and let me know what you think💕(sorry for the errors).

•••••••••••••••••••

The fire was crackling in the fireplace,the sun was rising above the horizon,every living small creature was now awaking for living another day in the peaceful and sunny Dragon Stone.

Y/n was laying on the bed,the white sheets were messy,half dangling on the floor and half wrapped around her sweaty body.Her hair sprawled on the pillow,back arching and eyes closing in the blissful feeling that was flaming on her skin.

It was the first lights in the morning,when her husband made his way on top of her after admiring her beautiful features.The perfect and immaculate texture of her skin,the sweet little smile on her sleepy face,the way her chest rose up and down in every breath.

Y/n hands wrapped around his neck and went to his hair,beautiful strands of silver moonlight,long enough for her to run her fingers through and to pull at.

Aemond moaned,pulling her closer until his lips claimed hers in a kiss full of desperation and need.He kissed her as if he was a man starved,the only thought of her the most delicious meal,and showing her exactly how much he craved her.

Y/n groaned in his mouth,the euphoric feeling pumping in her veins,wrapping her legs around his waist.He pulled her waist against his hard body,the bulge in his pants rubbing against her pelvic bone as he choked out with a moan:«I want another one.»his voice was low and it made her shiver.

His wife know immediately to what he was referring,to what his heart wished since the moment they got married,having another child.It wasn’t a secret for her,it wasn’t a secret for anyone,to see the way Aemond eye always lingered for too long on his wife belly,how he caressed it and the disappointment on his face to find it empty,imagining the future life that could come out of it.

Aemond had always been a family man,devoted to the woman that he loved and swore his life to,and to the beautiful children they had together.He didn’t had the best experience of family growing up,his parents barely looked in his direction or at each other,leaving him to be raised in empty rooms by even more empty people that gave him only the necessary.He didn’t wanted that for his children,he wanted them to feel safe and loved around him,always ready to find a shelter,a friend,a listener whenever they wished.

But now his children were growing,too fast for his liking.Rhaegal,his first son,his heir,soft and thoughtful like his mother,was now eighteen and ready to be wed to Lord Baratheon youngest daughter,making him spending half of his time in the Stormlands to court her.Aedion,his second son,now thirteen,calculating and mischievous,taking it after his paternal great grandfather,preferred to spend his free time with his cousin and with his dragon flying across Westeros.

Even his youngest daughter,Saera,who was only five,a beautiful princess that looked exactly like him,seemed to grown faster each day.Making him cherish every moment he had with her,from her first word,her first steps,answering to all her curiosities about the world that he’d always protect her from.

Then there’s was Visenya,his first daughter,the one girl he prayed and wished so much for,was now ten years old and a walking earthquake.The young princess was nothing like the Ladies of her age,nothing like her mother was.His daughter was short tempered,quick to anger and slave to acting before thinking.She preferred her hair short,no jewelry or pompous pastel dresses,but leather dark green pants and a sword.Instead of a Septa to take care of her and teaching her the good manners,Criston Cole was sworn to her,to teach her how to duel and how to work with armors on.

Y/n reached down with her hand,rubbing against his prominent bulge«Another girl?»she teased him with a smirk on her face.

Aemond shuddered,a spark running dow his body«I don’t care»he panted in her ear«As long as it’s you who’s giving it to me.»now sucking on the tender skin of her neck.

A loud knock on the door was what made them pull away.Needy lips running after each other,short breaths,and warm skins as they both got up from bed,adjusting themselves.

Criston Cole stood in the doorway,his white cape and shining armor making him look even more dutiful«I’m sorry to interrupt your morning my prince,my princess.»he stated looking at the couple.

«Has something happened?»Y/n was smothering down her nightgown,the one that till a moment before her husband wanted to rip off her.

Aemond was beside her,his hair messy thank to her,eye widened when he saw two of his children making their way into the room.

Aedion had become taller in years,but still he was shorter than his brother and his father were at his age.His white hair were a mess of silver strands,like someone had pulled them roughly,the angular features of his pale face morphed in a annoyed expression.Under his left eye a purple bruise bloomed on his skin with a little cut,sand all over his cheeks.

Visenya stood beside him,soaked from head to toe,was trying her best to not shiver but the sound of her teeth trembling was audible in all the room.Her shoulder length hair were wet,sticking on her neck and cheeks.The dark fabric of her clothes,clinging on her like a second skin while little droplets of water landed on the stone floor.Her hands were on her side,clenched fits,and on her right hand her knuckles were peeled,crusty blood on them.

«I heard the screams and i found them fighting on the beach.»Ser Criston explained.

Y/n looked at her husband,exchanging a knowing look with him«Why when something happens is always the two of you?»she said in a exasperated tone.

«He started it-»Visenya bursted out immediately,adverting on her the gaze of her parents.

«She attacked me!»Aedion defended himself,pointing his accusatory finger on his sister.

«Quiet,both of you!»Aemond yelled,tiredness in his voice.

Then he pulled Visenya in his arms,wrapping a blanket around her shaking figure a guiding her toward the fireplace.The little girl sighed in relief,enjoying the warmth of the flames and her father caressing her back to help her warm up.

Y/n took a deep breath,placing a hand on her son shoulder«Thank you,Ser Criston.We will take care of it.»she thanked him with a genuine smile.

The knight bowed his head and closed the door behind him,leaving the scene.When his mother turned to look at him,her face stoic and a strict gaze on her eyes,Aedion shivered on his feet.

«Care to tell me why you and your sister were fighting like animals,again?»she asked,anger very clear in the sound of her voice.

Y/n took her son face on her hands,examining the bruised skin and cleaning him from the sand.Aedion hissed in pain,closing his eyes and trying to turn away from his mother grasp«She punched me!She is the animal,look at the way she dress!»he cried out.

Visenya head shot up,angry purple eyes setting on her brother«You deserved it!It’s you who gave me a donkey!»she barked back.

«Because you are one!»Aedion told her,his face now free from his mother care but still hiding behind her body.

«Aedion!»Y/n yelled immediately at her son insult.

There was a ruffle sound,the blanket that was covering Visenya cold body was now on the floor,the little girl ready with another punch for her brother face.Fortunately,Aemond was ready to catch her by her waist,holding her up against his chest,before she could flung herself on Aedion scared figure.

«Enough!»Aemond roared,his daughter kicking and squirming in his arms ceased at the authority in his voice«Me and your mother are gonna deal with this separately,since the two of you can’t be civil enough to have a proper conversation.»he stated,breathing deeply through his nose.

Y/n nodded at him,knowing more than well that this was the only solution.Growing up,she had missed the special bond that Aedion and Visenya had.Once they were inseparable,it was impossible to see one without the other,playing together,laughing and caring for each other.

Now it was impossible to see them going along,always picking on one another,the continue teasing and stupids pranks.It was tiring,especially since both Y/n and Aemond wanted nothing more than a lovely family who have each other backs.

When his wife closed the door behind her,taking with her their son,Aemond turned his gaze to his daughter now sitting again on the carpet next to the fire.

Her little figure was curled up against the stone wall,one of her hand towards the flames to gather some warmth.Aemond could her the sound of her sniffing and see her lucid eyes,it broke his heart to see her like that.

«Want to tell about this donkey?»Aemond voice was calm now,softer.

«They both laughed at me,like i’m some sort of jester.»Visenya started,her little face softened,tears to the corner of her eyes.

Aemond chest ached at the sound of her broken and shaky voice«Visenya»he started calling her attention«You need to tell me what happened,otherwise i can’t help you.»he got closer to her,sitting next to her and caressing her cheek to wipe away the tears.

His daughter cleared her throat and nodded«Aedion and Jaehaerys said that here in Dragon Stone lived three wild dragons»she talked lowly«so they took me to get one,so i could be just like the rest of you.But instead they gave me a donkey.»she told him,little sobs leaving her mouth.

Aemond froze on his spot,his mind racing just like his pulse did.Suddenly it all came back to him,it was like living that stupid nightmare again but instead of a donkey his false dragon was a pig.His chest burned with anger,if he closed his eye he swore he could still hear his brother and nephews making fun of him.But what anger him the most was that no matter,no matter the fact that he got he revenge on them by claiming the biggest dragon in Westeros,that didn’t felt like a win now that his daughter had to experience his same pain.

He felt powerless,he had promised Y/n that he would protect his daughter from the moment she was born till his last breath on this earth,but he was unable to shelter her from his own past.

«Then I got angry»Visenya sniffed again«and i punched Aedion in the face.Jaehaerys had to throw me in the sea to stop me.»she explained,looking up to her father with sad eyes.

But it was different this time,his daughter was different,he was different.When it happened to him,his mother did what little she could,promising him that one day he would had a dragon.His father never talked about it,not even a pitiful glance on his way,not a single word of comfort to forget.Even though his mother tried,that weren’t the words that his younger self needed her to say to him,the ones that only him said to himself.

What he needed that day was someone to tell him:«If there is a dragon out there,go and claim it.»just like he did right now.

He couldn’t repair on what his parents did for him,but he could be the best version of himself for his daughter so that she could never experience this kind of pain again.

Visenya eyes widened«Can i?»she asked,like for a permission,her eyes now sparkling.

Aemond smiled at her«It is your birth right,as a Targaryen,to have one.If you are brave and bold enough go and claim one for yourself.»he stated,turning serious.

His daughter shivered,but this time not from the cold but for the examination that she felt running through her veins at her father next words«You are not a donkey,you are a dragon.So be a dragon.»

Y/n was sitting on a chair in her son room,from the other side of the table Aedion was looking down at his hands.The Maester had left just a moment ago,after cleaning a stitching up the little cut that he had under his eye.

The smell of medical alcohol still lingered the room«It was just a harmless joke»Aedion tried to defend himself.

His mother crossed her arms,the disappointment on her face hurted more than the punch he received in the morning«Visenya is your sister and you,better than anyone,should know how much this topic hurts her.»she stated with a stern voice.

Aedion sighed«It’s just»he started«she has to be in everything that i do all the time.»he explained.

«Aedion-»his mother began.

But the young boy interrupted her«It’s the truth!Whenever i’m practicing with the sword she is there.When i want to take a fly with Hyperion she asks me to come and father says i have to take her.This vacation on Dragon Stone was suppose to be my free time with Jaehaerys but she’s been following us since we first landed here!»he sounded tired,ready to cry and combust on himself.

Y/n face softened,a little smile on her face,as she stood up and walked to her son.Turning around the table,she took his face in her hands,carefully caressing his cheek with her thumb«She wants to be involved because she want to be like you.»she said with a tender voice«Ask her who’s her favorite dragon rider is,but don’t tell your father the answer.»she then chuckled making her son do the same.

Aedion looked surprised,a sparkle behind his lavander eyes«Really?Me?»he sounded surprised.

But when his mother nodded his chest warmed and his heart ached«I’m sorry for what i did.»he murmured.

Y/n smiled,she understood him.Being a older brother have its up and its down,and a nagging little sister wasn’t always the best thing to have around.But with the sincerity of his words and the sight of regret in his eyes,she knew everything would be better.

«You have to tell this to your sister.»she said,hugging him closer to her.

Night time came faster than a blink of an eye.The sky was dark and starless,looking empty and intimidating,the cold breeze of the ocean and the impetuous wind hollowed knocking at the winds to come in.The pale moonbeams lulled every living creature to sleep,expect for one.

Visenya lifted the warm covers from her body,jumping out of her bed,dressing quickly with a dark green cloak on her shoulders and a torch in her hands she flew out of the castle and making her way to the hills around it.

She had heard tales from the small folks who lived there,about three wild dragons that roamed the island at night.One who was know to steal the sheep from the shepherds,one shy and silent,barely seen,and another one,the biggest out of them,that eats his own kind.

The young princess shivered,the cold wind hitting her pale face as her legs walked faster in the dark cave.It was pitch black,humid and smelled like something died in there.The little flame of her torch flicked as more deep she got,tracing her hand on the rough stone walls,under he feet she could hear the cracking of something breaking with each step she was taking until the darkness swallowed her up.

In her head the comforting words of her father repeated themselves.She was a dragon,she was brave and she was bold,named after the strongest woman warrior that ever existed in Westeros,it was her birth right to claim that dragon.

But not only a simple dragon,her need to prove herself,to be better,made her want the biggest out of the three dragons:the Cannibal.

Visenya jumped surprised,squeezing her purple eyes and crunching down when she heard a little screeching sound.Pointing her torch to the ground a little smile appeared on her face,a dragon,no bigger than a cat,scales greens as a emerald,was lurking towards her.

She remembered seeing her brothers,the rest of her family raising little dragons and taking care of them since they came out of the shell.How she missed it,now looking at the small creature that she could have had since her birth,the pain of a sensation that she will never be able to feel.

«Nyke’m daor going naejot ōdrikagon ao.»her voice was calm as she spoke slowly,spelling out every word.

Her father had taught her the dragons language,along her brothers,when she was a child,narrating to them all the tales of ancient Valyria at its full glory.

Visenya was calm,even though her heart raced,and politely telling to the small dragon that she wasn’t there to hurt it.The little creature had other plans,seeing a stranger entering the cave,a snarl came out of it opening his wide mouth.

The young princess didn’t had the time to react,to jump back and to retire her hand before it was to late.The green dragon pointy and sharp teeth closed around her left hand,the sound of broken bones and the high pitch screams leaving her mouth echoed on the stone walls.

The pain went directly to her heart,her pulse quicker,hot tears running down her cheeks,as she tried to hit the small dragon with the torch.Before she could even lift her right arm,a loud roar shook the very foundation of Dragon Stone,the sound of heavy steps and animalistic snarls.

The Cannibal emerged from the shadows,black as coal with menacing green eyes,he was the largest and the oldest of the three wild dragons.

Visenya stood still with her knees on the dirty floor,her left hand tucked to her chest trembling.Blood was everywhere,on her white camisole,her pants,her cloak,under her chin and especially on left arm.She couldn’t feel her fingers,nothing aside the sharp pain the was running up her hand and all over her small body.

The wild dragon in front of her opened his mouth and without wasting his time,with just one bite,he ate the smaller green one.The sound of chewing,the smell of blood and death,and the vision didn’t made her flinch.

Instead,hissing in pain,she tore a piece of her green cloak to wrap it on her hand to prevent more bleeding.Then she rose on her feet,not even this would had stopped her to have that dragon.

Visenya walked slowly,the Cannibal eyes were scrutinized her,looking at every move the young princess was making in her way towards him.

Lifting her right hand up,almost near him,Visenya felt a strange pull in her chest,something warm,like a hook in her ribs that was dragging her to the creature.

The dragon opened his mouth,a glowing color sparkled in the back of his throat with a ferocious rumble.

«Dohaeris.»she stated with authority in her voice,every trace of fear leaving her body«Dohaeris,Cannibal.»she repeated.

Listening to her,with a low sound,the creature closed his mouth,obeying her just like Visenya requested.Something,a primal devotion that was in him before his birth,finally awoke.

«Lykiri.»Visenya said again,an invisible string was tying itself up around them,keeping them close to each other,calm like she asked him,when her hand finally touched the warm scales on his head and he let her.

Because now,the Cannibal was not a wild dragon and Visenya wasn’t a donkey.They belonged to each other,a dragon and his rider.

It was the sound of something hard landing and breaking the ground outside their window,a low screeching sound that made the glass tremble,that woke them up.

Aemond and Y/n were sleeping peacefully in each other arms,right under the warm covers when a servant girl came rushing into their chambers stating that something had happened to the princess.

In the grand Hall,Y/n was crunched down,still in her nightgown,tears in the corner of her eyes and a worried expression on her face«She’s gonna be fine,right?»she asked with trembling voice for the tenth time.

The Grand Maester,an old man,was sitting at the table in the center of the room,Viseny was right in front of him.Her left hand was in a horrible state,covered in blood,the flesh torn apart and one of her fingers almost detached.

«Her hand gonna heal,princess.»the Maester reassured her«But i can’t save this one finger.»he said pointing at the ring finger.

Aemond felt his mouth become dry,his pulse was quick in his ear while watching the way his wife cried out at the horrible news holding her daughter desperately.

Again it felt like living again that moment of his childhood,remembering how his mother was crashed for what happened to his eye and now seeing his wife going through the same pain.

Visenya hissed in pain as the Maester was stitching the cuts on her hand,but a little smile was present on her face«Do not worry mother.I may have lost a finger,but i gained a dragon.»she stated proud of herself.

Aemond let out a choked chuckle«A fair exchange.»he whispered to his daughter,caressing her head.

Y/n head shot up to her husband,the anger in her eyes made him shiver«Our daughter could have died!And you say it was a fair exchange ?»she screamed at him.

Aemond breathed through his nose,as a father he almost had a heart attack when he saw his daughter bloody hand.But his younger self was screaming how proud he was of her,seeing coming down the sky with her dragon.

«I’m aware of what could have happened.»he remained her«But it didn’t,that dragon was destined to belong to her.From now on he will protect her.»he said.

Visenya passed her eyes from her father to her mother«I’m fine and i finally have all that i ever wanted.I’m sorry if i made you worry.»she excused herself.

Y/n sighed deeply,knowing that no matter what,her husband and daughter were more similar to each other than anything else.It would been impossible to make them change their mind on this topic.

«But you have to promise me that you will ride that thing only when you will have a saddle and in your father presence,deal?»she said,a small smile that mirrored his daughter one.

«Deal!»Visenya answered enthusiastically.

Aemond smiled,making his way towards his wife a wrapping his arms around her.A quick kiss on her forehead as he realized that even Visenya now had grown,from the little tremendous girl to a soon magnificent dragon rider.And he couldn’t wait to be there for her in every step,helping her and teaching to her like he did with his sons.

«After this,i definitely want another one.»

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (19) Weather

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 19)

Summary: Rosie is heartbroken. Sherlock and John are furious and sad. An invitation from the elderly Holmes couple, brings back sweet memories, and might be just what the doctor ordered.

Nineteen Years Old

I was devastated and utterly heartbroken when David ended it with me. We’d been a couple for almost a year, and I was still so in love with him. I had failed to observe, had let sentiment cloud my mind, lulling me into a fantasy coated in pink and gold.

I wasn’t the only one affected by this. Dad muttered curses under his breath, while Papa alternated between fury and sorrow. He blamed himself for not seeing who David really was; a young man, too insecure about himself, needing female attention around the clock, which I was unwilling to give. I had my studies, homework, jiu jitsu, family, and my friends to consider as well, and I hadn’t wanted to spend every spare minute with David no matter how much I loved him. In my opinion, I couldn’t be blamed for needing to see other people, whom I also loved, and to maintain my interests. It was part of who I was. Nevertheless, I cried myself to sleep every night to the tones of Papa’s soothing violin.

***

The next weeks went by in a daze, though I managed to study for my upcoming exams, much thanks to the sessions in the dojo, which helped clear my mind of the fog. Finally, the last exam was history and the summer lay ahead of me like a blank canvas. Me and David’s plans for going to Dublin, were obviously abandoned. Luckily, our flight tickets and hotel reservations were refundable.

Congratulations with finishing your exam, love! Are you free to have dinner at home tonight?

Dad’s request piqued my interest, as he most likely knew it would. I had no plans and answered in the affirmative. 

The day was sunny and pleasantly warm, which I felt always was the case when I had to sit inside a poorly ventilated classroom to pour all my wisdom into the exam forms.

“Let’s go to get ice cream,” I proposed to Liwia and Leyla who accompanied me out of the old school building.

“Covent Garden?” Leyla asked.

“Covent Garden,” Liwia and I agreed.

***

“How are you, Bee?” Papa asked when I returned home a few hours later. 

“Not that bad actually. Glad to get the exams over with,” I said.

“Chocolate chips and raspberry,” Papa stated out of nowhere.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I muttered fondly.

“I guess not,” he admitted a bit sheepishly. “Sorry, if that…”

“It’s fine, Papa,” I assured him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Is Dad cooking or is it takeaway tonight?”

“Neither. I am cooking,” he informed me, cupped my face and kissed my forehead.

“Oh! Must be a special occasion, then,” I teased.

He huffed and told me I could help instead of being sassy. I laughed, went upstairs with my school bag and changed into a pastel green dress. When I came back, Papa ordered me to make a vinaigrette and the salad. We worked in companionable silence, while classical music streamed out of the speakers.

***

“My compliments to the chefs,” Dad sighed contentedly when he’d all but licked his plate.

Papa and I stood and bowed, making lavish and silly gestures. The white wine made us pliant and relaxed. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed sharing a lovely meal with my parents. In the last months, David had always been a part of it, or at least occupied a fair amount of my thoughts. And in that moment, I felt something heavy fall from my chest. I was free and had a whole summer ahead of me to do with as I pleased without having to consult David if he approved, wanted to be a part of my plans and what not.

“So, what’s all this about?” I asked.

Papa smirked, seemingly satisfied that I hadn’t been fooled about the intent of this dinner. 

“As clever as your Papa, aren’t you?” Dad praised. “I would expect no less.”

He straightened in his seat and leant forward to catch Papa’s hand. Papa nodded and turned to face me properly.

“Granny and Pops have invited us to France next week. They obviously didn’t include you because of your initial plans with…”

Papa clenched his teeth and gripped Dad’s hand tighter.

“It’s fine, Papa. I’m getting there. No need to call in the cavalry,” I assured him and stroked his arm. “Tell me more. I haven’t been there in ages.”

“When you were eleven, I think,” Dad mused.

“Twelve,” Papa corrected him, which earned him a kiss to the back of his hand from Dad and a giggle from me.

***

The house Papa’s Grand-Mère originally owned, had been inherited by Granny. A small villa close to Cannes. Théoule-sur-Mer was secluded and far less crowded than the more famous sites of the French Riviera. 

Being back brought treasured memories to mind. The warm and sunny weather, how Dad taught me to swim, Papa taking me snorkelling looking for exotic sea species, Pops reading The Little Prince in French, while simultaneously translating each paragraph, Granny’s coq-au-vin, quiche Lorraine and bouillabaisse. If there was any hint left of my heartbreak, it evaporated the second I dived into the crystal-clear water.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

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[five-miles-over]

For All Time, It Was Always You

Chapter 2: Mrs. Laufeyson

A/N: Thank you everyone for all of your positive comments! I really appreciate it, and hope you'll like this little continuation from the suburbs AU inspired partly by Wandavision.

Summary: After Loki leaves for work, you explore your new house and try to fit in with this world that feels too perfect to be real.

Pairing: Loki x Wife!Reader

Warnings: None really. Talk about 'traditional' gender roles. A surprise cameo. And silliness.

You waved goodbye, standing at the doorway as a black Chevrolet Bel Air departed from the house with Loki in the driver's seat. And like the doting wife that he thought you were, you blew a kiss in his direction.

When the car disappeared from your line of sight, you meandered into the sea green kitchen and filled a steel kettle with water, letting it sit on the stove the way a hen sat on her eggs. While the kettle grew hot, you searched the cabinets for tea bags,…and anything else that might help you understand this new, suburban world. A world in which you were the newlywed wife of a TVA employee who shared a name with the Norse God of Mischief. 

Next to a box of Earl Grey Tea was an entire section of the cabinet dedicated to biscuits of various brands and flavors: chocolate Hobnobs, Jaffa cakes, McVitie's digestive biscuits, shortbread, Bourbon cookies, and Oreos. At least three, unopened tubes of Oreo cookies. Were all of these sweet treats for you, or for your - you couldn't believe you were actually using this word - husband?

With a shrug, you grabbed a tube of the Oreo cookies, ripped it open and started eating them one by one. Holding the blue wrapper in one hand, you continued searching through the other kitchen cabinets. 

You found nothing but flour, brown sugar, white sugar, spices, marmite, extra virgin olive oil…, and two jars of strawberry jam from the same brand for some reason. And then, something next to a box of spaghetti caught your eye. A cookbook, with various pages dog-eared, titled Delicious Recipes For All Time, Always.

You blinked, carefully taking the book from the shelf. For All Time, Always? That's a weird title to call a cookbook…, a vague title as well. Inside the cover was a handwritten note, scribbled in blue pen.

The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Congratulations on the wedding, Mrs. Laufeyson! Loki's a lucky guy.

-Mobius M. Mobius

So that's who Loki was talking about at breakfast. He mentioned cancelling plans with someone named 'Mobius'. Someone who was making him watch tedious videos at work today. 

Jumping to the dog-eared pages of the cookbook, you came across various recipes: poached eggs, blueberry pancakes, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti bolognese, green bean casserole, Cumberbatch pie, curried chickpeas in coconut milk, angel food cake with strawberries and cream, chocolate mayonnaise cake…

Whiiiiiiieeee!

You whipped your head over your shoulder and immediately silenced the kettle's whistle, turning off the stove. Damnit, you went looking for tea bags and found yourself exploring everything except tea bags. Shaking your head, you shoved an Oreo into your mouth and opened the box of Earl Grey tea bags. 

Then, you opened a cabinet filled with plates, bowls, and cups, grabbing a white ceramic mug for your tea bag. On the top shelf of the cabinet was a pastel blue gift box. While the tea bag steeped in hot water, you reached for the box using a chair as a makeshift stepping stool. Inside the gift box were two mugs labeled 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.' in gold calligraphy And like the cookbook, there was a handwritten note as well. 

For all the mornings you'll have together. Congratulations to you both, Mr. and Mrs. Laufeyson! May the years ahead be filled with lasting love and happiness.

-Jeremy, Joyce, and Bill Hazeldine

With a gasp, you quickly closed the box and put it back on the shelf…only to open the box, taking another peek at the note. Mrs. Laufeyson...you underlined those words with your fingertip. Taking a deep breath, you put the box back on the shelf for good, promising to never use those mugs unless you were with Loki. 

By this point, the tea was hot enough to be enjoyed but not scalding that it would burn your throat. You took a sip, relaxing in its warmth, holding the mug with both hands. "Mrs. Laufeyson", you repeated to yourself. You looked down at your left hand, the emerald ring still on your middle finger just the same way it was this morning. 

After you finished drinking your tea and scarfing down the rest of the Oreo cookies in the container, you wandered into the living room. It was just across from the kitchen, a pastel yellow room with white bookshelves containing all kinds of hardcover and paper cover works. One would probably need an entire decade just to finish reading all the books kept inside the living room. You tilted your head and wondered which of the books were your husband's choice. But before you could sit down on one of the couches, you heard the doorbell ring.

"Who is it?" You asked, fixing your hair. 

A light, female voice came from outside. "It's Joyce!" As you made your way to the front door, you caught a glimpse of yourself in mirror hanging in the hallway. Your hair was miraculously styled, and you were wearing a cute set of pajamas…It almost made you stand still for a moment just so you could admire how desirable you looked. No wonder your husband was so lovey-dovey this morning.

The doorbell rang again. Putting on your best smile, you dragged your feet towards the door and opened it. 

Standing outside was a thin, middle-aged woman -presumably Joyce - with a bowl cut hairstyle, wearing a light blue shirt and straight-leg jeans. "Oh hello, dear. So good to see you again!" She gave you a warm smile and a hug, rocking you in her arms.

"Good to see you too, Joyce." You politely reciprocated her hug and let out a small laugh. "Thank you again for the mugs, they're lovely."

Joyce placed her hands on your arms for a moment, looking up at you. "I haven't seen you both since you came back from your honeymoon. Oh, look at you…" She marveled, "Married life seems to be treating you well."

"Thank you so much," you looked down, deciding to be as demure as possible, hoping they wouldn't ask too many questions about the honeymoon. "I…I couldn't be happier, Loki is so sweet to me." When your eyes met Joyce's, you touched the back of your neck. "I…He makes me feel like the luckiest lady in the world, Joyce."

Joyce quietly laughed with you. "You remember my son Bill, right?" Towering over Joyce was a lanky teenage boy with golden curls, blue eyes, and the face of an angel. He wore a grey t-shirt, worn-out jeans, and beat-up sneakers. 

You reached out to shake his hand. "Of course I do," you lied. "Hi, Bill."

"Afternoon, Mrs. Laufeyson." Bill greeted you with a smile that could make London light up during a blackout. "Congratulations again."

"Thank you." You placed your left hand on your heart, showing off your wedding ring just a little. "How are you, Bill?"

"I'm alright, thank you." Bill nodded. "I've been working with the church, teaching Sunday school. Thought it'd be a nice way to spend my summer after my first year of college."

"That's very thoughtful of you."

"Thank you. I thought it would be good for my theology course to do something like that," Bill admitted before reaching into one of his jean pockets, procuring a small blue velvet box. "Actually, I have something for you, Mrs. Laufeyson." 

You covered your mouth in disbelief. "Oh, Bill…"

"Please, take it." He extended the box to you. "I bought it for my former-girlfriend Jewel." Blinking, you gingerly accepted it, running your finger along the lid. "Former girlfriend…You broke up with her?"

Joyce intervened, "He had to do it, dear. She was nothing but trouble."

"I'm so sorry."

 "No, I'm sorry." Bill shook his head. "I bought it for her a long time ago, but I suppose it was never meant to last. But, I really want to give it to someone. Please, consider it a belated wedding gift, Mrs. Laufeyson."

You smiled, opening the box to find a sterling silver bracelet. Simple, yet elegant. "Thank you, Bill. I'll treasure it. If you ever want to talk, or just stop by for some tea, the door will always be open for you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Laufeyson," he graciously said. "And I hope Jewel finds someone else who'll make her happy."

The three of you stood quietly outside your house before you spoke up. "Joyce, would you and Bill like to come inside for some tea?"

"Not today, dear. I'm so sorry, Bill's coming with me to do some errands. And I'm sure you might need to catch up on some sleep after such a busy honeymoon." Joyce teased you a little with the last bit. "Might only be a matter of time before you and Loki get a visit from the stork."

You laughed, looking down again. You remembered how Loki hugged you from behind this morning and teased you with the idea of "finishing what you started on the honeymoon". Almost instinctively, your free hand rested on your stomach.

"We should have dinner sometime, Loki and I would love to have you over, we can catch up," you blurted. Joyce enthusiastically agreed and said she and her husband would love that.

"Tomorrow night," Joyce promised. "Would seven-thirty be alright?"

"Absolutely!" You nodded, already imagining how to tell Loki when he came home from work. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"See you tomorrow." Joyce and Bill waved goodbye as they climbed into their car and drove off. 

Something ached inside you as you watched them drive off, maybe because it reminded you of the way that Loki drove off this morning while you stood at the doorway waving goodbye. As you closed the door once again, you pondered over going out tomorrow, even if it was just something as small as a mid-morning stroll while Loki was out. But for now, there were other things that needed to be done.

Tagging: @anukulee @smolvenger @pineappleandro @lotsoflokilove23 @talklokitome @rumin8ting @12-pm-510 @painedfever @iambetterthanbefore @princess-ofthe-pages @thenotoriouserg @lokischambermaid @lokiismineforever @lokidbadguy @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl22 @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @wolfsmom1 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @huntress-artemiss @itsdoni @gruftiela @ellooo0ooo @ireallyneedtherapy @jennyggggrrr @turniptitaness @lokiforever

[ramspatula]

Carnations | Cole Brookstone x fem!reader

Cole Brookstone was a normal guy. Yes he may be built like an ox and almost a foot taller than me but he went to the gym a lot and bodybuilding was his hobby. And ghosts don’t exist. And I’m not crazy.

Masterlist, Next part

Carnations symbolise love, captivation and distinction. There also just flowers. Plants, sometimes weeds. A lot of women put them in their bouquets for their wedding and then have them flattened and put into a frame so they'll never die and stay forever alive and young. The carnations I'm currently staring at are pink. Like almost every other flower they also come in different colours like white, red, yellow, and scarlet. You can dye them different colours too. I only know this much about the flower because of an old customer.

I started working at the little corner shop about a year ago and every Sunday morning when I got stuck with the early shift, an elderly woman would come into the shop to pick up her newspaper. And every time she'd come in with a singular pink carnation from the florist across us. She'd always be wearing a little pastel felt hat covering her white hair. The hat always matched with whatever pastel outfit she had chosen to wear. The first time I saw her she offered me a smile and asked me:

"Do you know what flower this is, Dear?"

"No, sorry."

"It's a carnation, and it's pink. That's why I chose it."

"It's pretty."

"Indeed, flowers tend to be."

Then she'd take her newspaper and leave. I never thought of it as anything special at the time until she came back the next Sunday and again asked me:

"Do you know what flower this is, Dear?"

"Yes, it's a carnation."

"Have I told you this before?"

"Yes, last Sunday. I remember."

"It seems my old mine is slipping now. Acting it's age, I'd say!"

"I also said they're pretty."

"Well, flowers tend to be."

And again the next Sunday she'd come into the shop and again she'd ask me:

"Do you know what flower this is, Dear?"

"I believe it's a carnation."

"Yes! Well done, my Dear. My mother once dyed them for my wedding bouquet."

"That one is pink."

"Indeed but they grow in different colours such as white, red, yellow, and scarlet."

"All pretty colours."

"Flowers tend to be, my Dear."

I began looking forward to seeing her on Sundays, waiting for the faithful question.

"Do you know what flower this is, Dear?"

"A pink carnation but they also come in different colours."

"Indeed, they have a wonderful symbolism too."

"Is that so?"

"Love, captivation and distinction, my Dear."

"Pretty."

"Flowers tend to be, my dear."

Even now when it's already over, I can't help myself from waiting for her every Sunday.

"Do you know what flower these are, Dear?"

"They're pink carnations and have a wonderful symbolism."

"I bought two for some estranged reason, I am only in need of one."

"I'm sure you could house two of them."

"No, my dear. I cannot. You must take one!"

"Are you sure?"

"I insist, my dear!"

"Thank you, it's very pretty."

"Flowers tend to be, my dear and so are you."

I never saw her again after that day. I put the flower into a small glass frame and squashed it between the frames before hanging it up in my room. It felt too special to ever let go. I say I squashed it but I got my best friend 'Peach' to do it for me. I thought I'd accidentally destroy it something ridiculous. 'Peach' isn't her real name by the way but it's been years and no one else has called her anything else. I'm not sure if anyone else knows her actual name? She ended up getting together with this guy named Lloyd Garmadon. His Dad used to be an evil overlord? I don't know what that was about or how he's walking about freely now? Peach told me not to ask about it and that he had pure evil inside him that was cured by his fight with the green ninja. The ninja were a massive thing here in Ninjago city, well ninjago as a whole. They had dragons that appeared out of no where and these crazy 'powers' that basically made them super-humans. They're vigilantes technically. I once ran into a ninja, the Earth ninja.

It was a late night, I was coming home from a party where a lot of underage "activities" took place. I couldn't see straight let alone walk straight. I fell into a bush. Don't ask. I got mud all down the outfit I was wearing and I laid there, sobbing. At that moment, I felt like shit until I heard his voice.

"Miss, are you okay?"

"What, are you fucking stupid?"

"I-"

"Am I fucking okay? Be so fucking for real."

"You're drunk."

"Leave me the fuck alone."

"Listen, I'm a ninja I'll get you home."

"How do you know where I live, perv?"

"If you've been drinking then you have an ID on you."

"An ID?! I am side-eying you so hard right now."

"You can't even look straight right now."

"Yeah because I'm side-eyeing you."

"Let's take you home."

He was practically a giant. An absolute ox of a man just like my personal harassment case, Cole Brookstone. The 6'7 body builder with the outgrown black hair that he sometimes tied into a man bun. I met him over a year ago at Peach's birthday party, Lloyd had introduced us and the whole night was spent laughing together and talking shit about every one we didn't like at said party. I hadn't laughed with a guy like that before, it's fair to say he was on my mind the rest of the night and next couple weeks after that. Peach and Lloyd had been together for years and always succeeded in making me feel like absolute shit with how much they loved each other. I once climbed in bed between them. That's a long story I don't care to explain.

"You like the flowers?" Cole asked, leaning practically over the counter. His body was bent and his arms were crossed, leaning on the counter.

"Yes, I do. Thank you." I replied, giving him a little smile.

"Do you know what flower they are?" He asked and I smiled to myself.

"Yes actually, they're pink carnations." I told him and heard him chuckle.

"My Grandma always use to buy a singular carnation before she passed, she never told me why but my Dad said she'd been doing it ever since my Grandpa died."

"I remember."

"What?"

"Your Grandma always came into this shop right after to pick up her newspaper. I didn't know she passed, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be sorry, she went peacefully. Plus it was a while ago."

"Really? She only stopped coming in about 6 months ago. I remember she always got the same newspaper! 'Ninjago Daily'. I remember because it was the only newspaper that didn't have Garmadon on the front!"

"Y/n, she's been dead 14 years now plus 'Ninjago Daily went bust about 20 years ago, before we were born."

"No, I specifically remember she got that paper and she always wore those little felt pastel hats!"

"Yeah, sounds like her but trust me she's gone and I only know the paper went bust because my Dad lost all his shares in the paper and I've been hearing about it for the past 19 years I've been alive."

"Well ghosts must exist then."

"I think you're just crazy."

"Cole."

"That's a better explanation than ghosts."

A cold shiver ran its way down my body as he left. Ghosts don't exist, right?

[saleintothe90s]

494. Seventeen Magazine, March 1997 - part 2

(Part 1)

Woah, this was the best LeAnn looked when she was a teenager. The staff did an amazing job on her. I feel like she kinda adopted this look after this shoot, right?

Maybe with the exception with the black and white dress on the right, JCPenney really dropped the ball. None of the prom looks in the actual issue matches the prom looks we see int the ads.

There's that green again! This time on Jordana Brewster.

Moisturizer and translucent powder seems like a patchy mess? y/n?

OH HERE WE GO BBY OLD NAIL POLISH FROM THE BEST ERA OF NAIL POLISH: THE MID 90s.

There's a great TikTok/instagram account called Vintage Dusties that showcases the most amazing 90s polish. I wonder what ever happened to Ripe brand polish? I saw it a few times in Seventeen, but I can't find a bottle on eBay or a mention online anywhere.

Pastel was an icon, it was a legend, it was the moment.

(eBay user SOLDBYMP)

These potpourris from the Gap look redic. You know they lost their scent almost immediately. I found one on eBay.

Man, back when Urban decay was grunge. Miss those days.

Ok, why couldn't Billy go to the prom with Michelle? Was he over 18?

I remember reading this as a thirteen year old, and thinking "yeah, nobody's mom is gonna allow that." I remember the doggy too!

It took me a few seconds to understand the cutting the straps off of life jackets and making belts out of them. Let's hope that L.W. is using top coat to seal those letters. Thea R. discovered prison makeup!

Here's the ketchup mustard and lettuce dresses we saw in last year's issue, but longer this time.

Baby Spice Girls!

Baby King of the Hill! The show had only been on at a couple of months at this point.

We were all still living in 1997, but Chaweon was living in 1999 with that amazing makeup.

This was part of the School Zone section they ran every month. Everybody always messed up their $50 JanSport with patches.

This looks almost like the dress Jordana was holding up a few pages earlier.

As someone who wears tights several days a week, I would invest in those $34 ones.

I remember the Chris O'Donnell story! Just because I didn't know what crew was back then. I thought a "crew meet" was Chris and his teammates setting up a stage set in record time. I was a very uncultured child. (part 3)

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[slytherinshua]

Love Drive

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. this is so romantic. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: kisses. wonwoo flirting a lot and just being super sweet. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: your boyfriend is full of romantic surprises, but you never predicted this one. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 1.5k.

Swinging the car keys around his finger, Wonwoo stepped out of the building and walked to his car. It was a sunny Tuesday - a perfect day to be a little romantic. 

There was no need for you to still be at work, as Wonwoo had already cancelled your meetings for the day. It was of utmost importance to him that he had you all to himself, just for today.

He drove along the busy roads of Seoul, nodding along to the music he was playing through the car stereo. He just needed to pick you up from work, and his plan would go smoothly from there, as long as he got over his nerves.

He drove along the busy roads of Seoul, nodding along to the music he was playing through the car stereo. He just needed to pick you up from work, and his plan would go smoothly from there, as long as he got over his nerves.

You sat at your computer, typing away and occasionally glancing over the files you held in your hand. You were in your workflow, getting more done in an hour than you did all of yesterday. Your office was completely silent, except for the clicking of your keyboard and shuffling of the papers in your hand.

You heard a knock on your door, completely ruining your concentration. You looked up, seeing one of your coworkers on the other side. You motioned for her to come in, eager to answer whatever question she had in order to get back to your spreadsheets and business plans.

“Y/n, why are you still working? Your boyfriend asked to cancel your plans for today.”

Your brows furrowed and you set down the stack of papers you were clutching, “He cancelled my plans? What for?”

She ignored your question entirely, only placing a gift box on your desk and winking at you before leaving.

You cleared some of the stationary off your desk, making room for the box to go in front of you. You lifted the lid, finding a note, a rose, and a sundress inside.

‘I’m waiting outside - w ♡’ read the note, with a P.S. at the bottom that said, ‘I thought you would look pretty in this dress, so wear it ;)’.

You let out an airy laugh, becoming impressed with your boyfriend yet again. How many times had he pulled stuff like this out of the blue, making your day 100 times better with no warning beforehand? You were convinced there were too many occasions to count.

You set the note aside, smiling at his handwriting. You held up the sundress. It was a pretty pastel green dress, with a low back and tie on straps. Wonwoo had a great eye for dresses among his other talents, apparently.

You walked to your office bathroom, discarding your professional work clothes and putting on the dress. You tried to fix your hair in the mirror, but it barely made a difference. Wonwoo wouldn’t even notice anyway.

You grabbed the rose, the only thing left in the little gift box, and headed outside. You spotted Wonwoo almost immediately, standing outside his car waiting for you. He was in a loose white button-down and black slacks - stunning as always. He smiled at you, opening the passenger door and ushering you to sit.

“You are full of surprises.”

“I had a free schedule today, so I had to take advantage of it.” He said nonchalantly, leaning over to give you a quick kiss before he started the car.

“I was right. You look stunning in that dress, babe.” He said while backing out of the parking lot. The comment made you laugh, and you muttered a small thank you, feeling a little flustered by your boyfriend.

“Blushing already? You’ll be a tomato at the end of the day.” He quipped, smiling widely.

“Only cause you flirt with me every chance you get.” You said, “How do you expect me to not blush at your comments?”

“I’m glad you blush at them. You look cute when you blush.”

“You’re on a roll, aren’t you?” You laughed in disbelief at his smoothness. “Where are you taking me today, then? You even got me this dress. It’s got to be something special if you cared about what I was wearing.”

“That’s confidential information, my love. You’ll find out when we get there.”

“Fine.”

It didn’t take long to “get there”. Wonwoo pulled into a parking space after another 10 minutes, the beach now right in front of you.

“It’s completely deserted.” You grinned, turning to your boyfriend in excitement.

“Just how you like it.” He smirked.

He walked down to the beach with you, the waves crashing on the shore rhythmically. He held out his hand quietly, and you blushed again, taking his hand in your own.

You walked along the shore for a while, talking to one another about anything that came to mind. You both had taken off your shoes and left them a little ways up so you could feel the sand between your toes.

From afar, it seemed like a perfect scene. Clear day, picturesque beach landscape, and two people laughing together, eyes full of love for the other.

But up close, Wonwoo was a nervous wreck. He didn’t show it, of course. But he could hardly differentiate if the butterflies in his stomach were from you, or from nerves.

As the sky started to near sunset, Wonwoo got out a picnic blanket, and the food he had packed, setting it out for you. You ate side-by-side, your head resting on his shoulder, and his arm circling your waist.

By the time the sun was starting to set, you had finished eating. Wonwoo packed up the containers so the blanket was clear again, and sat down, his arms supporting him from behind.

You rested your head in his lap, looking up at the stars together and continuing your conversations which mostly consisted of your future together, work, the seventeen members, and Wonwoo’s smooth flirting in between.

“Let’s get up, I have something to ask.” Wonwoo said suddenly after several moments of silence. You nodded, standing up and following Wonwoo who walked a little ways away.

The sound of the ocean filled your ears, and you looked over at Wonwoo fondly. He looked breathtaking, his dark hair blowing softly with the ocean breeze. You got too lucky with him.

He turned to you, taking a breath and reaching into his back pocket. Slowly he opened the box, and got down on 1 knee. Your brain stopped processing anything, and you stared at him in shock.

“I’ve practised this speech over and over again, but I’ve still forgotten whatever I was supposed to say. I had planned out a bunch of romantic lines, but you know I mean it already, don’t you?” He looked into your eyes, smiling softly. “You are the best thing about my life, and I still can’t believe how incredibly fortunate I am to have you, even after all these years. I’ve said I love you to you a thousand times by now, but I meant it each of those times. I love you. And…” He gulped, taking a deep breath before continuing, “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So… Y/n, will you marry me?”

You couldn’t help the tears that escaped your eyes. You never thought you would cry when you got proposed to, but these things come unplanned. You couldn’t speak, or think of anything other than how much you loved the man that was kneeling in front of you.

You managed to nod, whispering out a “yes” in response to his big question. He stood up, hugging you tightly, starting to tear up himself. But he couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face. This was the happiest moment of his life. He was going to marry you.

You sniffed, trying to stop crying more than you already had. Wonwoo pulled back from the hug slightly so he could wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“You okay, my love?”

You nodded, “I’m more than okay right now.” You said, hugging him tightly again. 

“I still need to put the ring on your finger, babe.” He urged, “If you’re done crying, that is.”

You laughed, “I hope I’m done crying.” You wiped your face again, “This is your fault for being so damn romantic and sweet. And now I’m emotional.” He laughed, taking out the ring from the box.

You held out your left hand, sniffing again as he slid the ring on your ring finger. You stared at the little ring, smiling wider than you probably ever had in your life.

“I love you.” You looked back at Wonwoo, cupping his smiling cheeks with your hands.

“I’m going to marry you.” He replied back in a whisper, smiling and pressing his lips to yours firmly.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2

[cosmicbucky]

with charcoal hands and spoken dreams, we escaped together

part two, a summary: unable to keep your thoughts on anything but each other, the two of you find yourselves cracking open the door to the world of getting to know one another pairings: bucky barnes x female reader word count: 3036

warnings: minor swearing, awkward yet adorable flirting (that's not really flirting), first date but it's not actually a date, fluff, two already smitten idiots

part: two/?

⇠ part one

《《《《 ♡ ���》》》

The sun filtered through the window, your curtains billowing in the breeze. The familiar sounds of shouting and car horns honking pulled you from your sleep, and you stretched with a loud groan. You stared at the ceiling, hating the fact that the first thing to cross your mind were pastel sapphires accentuated by long dark hair, and pearly whites framed by pretty pink lips. You scolded yourself, quickly throwing the blankets off and standing up, feeling weird and guilty for thinking about a complete stranger in such a way. 

You got ready for the day in your comfiest clothes, making yourself your favourite morning drink and enjoying your go-to breakfast, taking the time to wake up and enjoy the morning before bringing your drink to your desk, sitting down at your computer for another day of work. 

You let your mind wander as you wrote, but the problem with that was this time it always went to the same place - the smell of old pages, the aroma of soil, gorgeous white cats, browns and greens and golds and oh, such pretty blues. This carried on for a few hours, and you barely got half the amount of work done that you usually do, not able to stick to the task at hand as you let yourself enjoy your daydreams a little too much, and for a little too long.

You felt like you were going insane, and you made the perfectly reasonable decision to go back and see the man again - you needed to thank him for letting you take refuge there, anyway. The problem, though, was that you had no idea if he was there again or not - you remember him implying that he owns the place, but did that mean he was always there? You had no idea, but being the completely sane and normal person you are, you searched up the store and decided to call, seeing if maybe he would answer. 

The line rang out, and you felt yourself regretting the decision almost immediately. By the time you realized you had no idea what you would even say, and that it would be a good idea to just hang up, a voice was heard. 

"This is James from The Planted Pages, how can I help you?" 

Silk and whiskey, rough and tender. James. 

You knew it was him immediately, and yes, you hated that you did, but how could anyone forget a voice like that? Your heart hammered in your chest and your brain lost track of all the vocabulary you used to know - you panicked. 

"Oh. Hi, uh - James," you forced yourself to say, silently loving the feeling of his name rolling off your tongue. "I'm so sorry, I- I called the wrong number. Have a nice day!" you finished lamely, quickly hanging up and groaning, holding your head in your hands. You stayed there for a few moments, collecting yourself and calming your nerves before getting up to execute your plan. 

Though you had no way to know, James was standing behind the counter of his shop, the phone still against his ear. 

He had been driving himself crazy all morning. He hoped to catch a glimpse of you in all the passersby whenever he looked out the window. Every time the door opened, he hoped it was you he saw standing there when he looked up to greet whoever it was. 

He shook the thoughts away when they would surface - he needed to accept that he didn't know you. That you were a stranger, a one time reprieve from his mundane life. He had no right to let you cross his mind so often; though you did. You crossed his mind so much he was starting to piss himself off, and he couldn't have been more thankful when the phone rang, giving him a distraction. 

He happily made his way to the counter, glancing down at the caller ID (he had no way to know it was your name staring back at him) before quickly answering with his standard greeting of "This is James from The Planted Pages, how can I help you?”

"Oh. Hi, uh - James," you had replied, causing him to stand up straighter, feeling a sense of recognition when he heard your voice. No, it couldn't be. "I'm so sorry, I- I called the wrong number. Have a nice day!"

Oh, but it was. The softness, the shyness, the underlying awkwardness. It had to be you. 

He smiled to himself, chuckling softly as he hung up the phone. He felt satisfied, in a strange way. Hearing your voice again let him know he didn't just imagine you, that it wasn't some vivid and twisted dream he had last night - after all, it wouldn't have been the first time he fell asleep in the shop after closing, waking up to Alpine purring and meowing in his ear. 

He let his mind wander once more with fleeting thoughts of you and why you called - if it really was you - as he returned to his work; re-alphabetizing books, tending to the plants, dusting the shelves, and his most important task of the day - playing with Alpine. He was too caught up in dangling the toy high above her to hear the door open, too amused to notice the approaching footsteps. 

"Um, hi," a soft voice cut through the air, causing him to whip his head up, tucking his hair behind his ear as he came face to face with - you. 

"Hi," he replied softly, a grin forming on his lips as drank you in. He didn't understand why he felt so relieved to see you. Maybe it was because this meant he wasn't crazy, and this was further proof that you really were real. Maybe it was because the day was slow, and he was happy to see even the most vaguely familiar face. Or, maybe because it was you, and he had been hoping to see you again the second you left his shop. 

You, on the other hand, knew exactly why you were relieved to see him again - you just wouldn't admit it to yourself. He captivated you. He was beautiful, a seemingly perfect mix of open and mysterious, a magnetizing being that pulled you in without warning like a current on a sunny beach. You knew exactly why you wanted to come back today, but the reason would never leave the vault tucked away in your mind - you didn't know him, and you needed to be careful. This you knew, this you told yourself. The only problem was that you never fucking listen.

You stood there before him for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought over your words, before finally breaking the silence. "I just… wanted to thank you again. You know, for last night. I know it wasn’t a crazy big deal, but you were nice, and I-... well, I really appreciate it." 

You gave him a small, lopsided smile as you stood there uncomfortably, realizing it may have been a dumb idea to come back here. 

"You really didn't need to do this, you know," he told you gently, a smile still on his lips. “Come back here, I mean. Just for that.”

"No, I know. I just… wanted to," you replied with a shy smile, shrugging your shoulders a little. 

He chuckled, making music for your ears. "Well, again, you’re welcome. It was a nice change of pace compared to how I usually close up shop."

A laugh slipped past your lips, and he perked up at the sound, taking an unintentional step forward as though he was literally being pulled in by you. 

"Well.. glad I could provide that, then," you told him, an amused smile dancing on your lips.

He smiled at you, a question lingering on his tongue as curiosity danced in his eyes. Though as he opened his mouth to speak, the courage left him and he let out a breathy chuckle, looking down at the cat toy still in his hands - and you noticed for the first time one of them was a prosthetic, the black and gold a stark contrast to the pink flirt pole it held within its grasp. 

“I’m James, by the way,” he said softly, looking back at you with a sheepish smile. 

The words ‘I know’ were so close to tumbling out of your mouth you had to laugh quietly to keep them in, giving him a smile and your name in return. 

His smile grew a little, his eyes lighting up as if the sun was shining down on the sea as he realized it was you that called - the words ‘I know’ dancing around in his mind, too. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he decided to say instead, though his amusement was not lost on you.

Chuckling nervously, you venture a guess as to why: “You have caller ID, don’t you?”

A hearty laugh escaped him as he nodded, a grin splitting across his face as he spoke a playful “I thought you called the wrong number.”

“Oh, my god,” you groaned, completely mortified. “I’m so sorry, that was my super not subtle way of finding out if you were here or not.” 

Upon seeing the humoured look on his face and the arch of his eyebrow at your words, you widened your eyes and carried on rambling: “No! I just meant - well I wanted to thank you, right? So I had to make sure you were actually here so I could do that, so I called - as you know, and then-”

“Do you like coffee?” he asked unexpectedly, cutting you off. He had to cut you off because you were too freaking adorable in the way you jabbered, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed and he was teetering so close to the edge already that he was afraid he’d topple completely head first if he didn’t stop you. 

“What?” you questioned after a brief pause, realizing what he asked. 

“Do you like coffee?” he repeated, a faint smile on his face as he took in your dazed expression.

“Uh, yeah… yeah, I like coffee,” you told him with a chuckle, both amused and confused.

“Any chance you feel like grabbing one?” he asked, the silent invitation louder than ever.

You smiled with a titter, nodding your head. “Yeah, I do. There’s a really great place just up the street - this can be my thank you.”

He shook his head, entertained by your persistence to show him thanks for something he thought to be a simple act. If anything, he felt as though he should be thanking the universe for bringing you to him. 

“Alright, alright. It’s a deal,” he chortled, finally acceding. 

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Before you knew it, the two of you were sitting by the window of your favourite coffee shop, Metal and Moss, sharing comfortable silences and embarrassing tidbits. Neither of you had any clue as to why you felt so comfortable sharing these things with each other, but neither of you wanted to dwell on it. 

"So," he spoke, breaking the momentary lapse in conversation as the two you silently mused over the other, stealing glances when the other looked away. "You said you were a poet?" 

You smiled, shaking your head as you recalled saying this last night. "I said kind of a poet," you corrected playfully. 

"Oh, please forgive me," he joked, holding a hand to his heart. "So, you said you were kind of a poet?" 

You giggled, smiling in satisfaction. "I'm a writer. I've been trying to delve into different styles, so I took a new piece to the open mic last night to test it out, see how I felt about it."

"How did it go?" he inquired, genuinely curious about the experience. 

Grimacing slightly, you shrugged. "It… well, it seemed to be well received, but I'm still not sure about it." 

He nodded thoughtfully, taking in your response. "Not comfortable with it?" 

"Not at all," you sighed, laughing a little. "I think that's a good thing, though. It's always good to step out of your comfort zone, right?" 

He hummed in response, a knowing smirk on his lips. This was something out of both your comfort zones, yet at the same time, the two of you were perfectly comfortable with each other's company. 

"Yeah," he agreed. "You're most definitely correct." 

"What about you?" you questioned, raising your eyebrows curiously. "You said you're not an artist, but from what I could see those pieces of yours looked rather impressive." 

A nervous laugh left him as heat flooded his cheeks; he tried to hide it by taking a drink from his coffee mug, but it did not go unnoticed by you. You had to force yourself to look away, not able to believe how pretty this man before you was. 

"It's just… something I do for fun," he muttered sheepishly. 

"You didn't go to school for it or anything?" you questioned curiously.

He shook his head, shifting in his seat. "No, I-... I did, actually. The world had other plans for me, though." 

Though it was subtle, you saw the way his eyes fleeted down towards his left hand before meeting yours again, heard how the next breath he took was a little deeper and shakier than his last. 

"Story for another time?" you offered lightly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

Giving you a grateful smile, he nodded slightly. "Another time."

"Before we left, you mentioned you were gonna tell Steve to watch the shop while you were gone. Do you guys run the place together?" you asked, trying to change the topic. 

"No, not at all," he said with a laugh. "Well, actually… I guess we kind of do - but not officially. He doesn't work there or anything, he's just around a lot." 

Giving him a quizzical look, you nodded slowly. "Did he… come with the shop like Alpine did?" you had asked, attempting to make a joke of it while still trying to get information.

Snorting in response and almost choking on his coffee, he broke into a fit of laughter so jovial that you couldn't help but laugh along with him for a minute.

"Fuck, that was good," he admitted, still laughing softly. "Him and I have been friends since we were kids, so he helps out a lot." 

"Oh, that's really nice, actually. You're both from around here?" you replied, suddenly itching to know more about him. 

"Brooklyn," he supplied. "We met in school - grade 3, I think. Most annoying punk you'll ever meet."

The undertone of affection in his words made you smile, and a comfortable silence fell between you once more. 

You both had so much more you wanted to ask, needed to know, but neither of you wanted to pry too much right off the bat like this. He did, however, return the question of where you were from, allowing you to happily tell him the story of where you grew up. He listened to you wholly, his attention never once straying - how could it? How could something be more captivating than the sparkle in your eyes as you told him about your hometown, or more adorable than the smile on your face as you spoke of family and friends? He realized with a start that he could listen to you talk for hours; and though you were a normally reserved person, you realized you couldn't seem to shut up around him. Neither of you cared about these revelations though, and you eagerly rambled on while he contentedly listened, adding in a question or story of his own from time to time.

The light began to shift outside the window, ever changing between casting the two of you in candescence and silhouettes as the sun drifted out of sight, afternoon turning into evening. Neither of you noticed the time passing by - or, maybe you did and just didn’t care. It was hard to care about anything else besides pulling a laugh from the lips of the man across from you, relishing in the way it made his eyes crinkle and butterflies erupt in your gut. It was hard for him to think about anything else besides the way your cheeks blossomed with colour every time he threw you a cheesy line, or the soft giggles you tried to stifle.

It was with great difficulty that you managed to say the words: “We should probably get back to our work, now.”

Though a laugh accompanied your statement, the heaviness of it was still felt. It was strange, this sense of ease and familiarity you two felt with each other; but it was nice. It was fun. It was exciting.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed with a small sigh. “Well, thank you for the ‘thank you’ coffee,” he added with a chuckle. 

 A soft giggle left you as you smiled softly. “My pleasure, James.”

“You can call me Bucky,” he informed you amiably. “All my friends do.”

“Alright then. My pleasure, Bucky,” you said with a nod, reiterating your previous statement to match his declaration. 

He grinned in satisfaction, and it took everything in you to not beam in response to how stupidly adorable he looked. 

“You know, as great as this was, I’m afraid we may have a problem on our hands,” he declared breezily, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“Really? What would that be?” you asked curiously, mirroring his body language. 

“I think we may just find ourselves in a cycle. ‘Cause I’m gonna have to thank you this coffee now,” he told you with a smile. “If you’ll let me, that is.”

You did your best to not pay attention to the fluttering in your stomach as you thought about it, tried to ignore the pounding of your heart. Instead, you succumbed to the smile that was fighting its way across your lips and looked at him with rosy cheeks - and he prayed to anyone who would listen that you wouldn’t notice how difficult it suddenly was for him to breathe when he saw your expression. 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I’ll let you.”