#shorter chapter

[fleetways]

Chapter 28: Farewell to You

[oscah8pastry1]

Too polished — MV3 x CL16 (httyd au, part 2/?)

Max should've left. Should've walked away and flown back home.

But he didn't.

He stood still, watching as his words sunk in, watching Charles' expression change to one that he couldn't quite decipher.

"Snobby." Charles echoed with a laugh, his tone showing he understood that it was meant to be sarcasm—but it didn't quite land as such in the state he'd been in.

Eyes heavy with bags, hair a mess, and his normally overconfident demeanour had shifted into something quieter.

Max could only wonder what had happened since their last meeting.

His mind drifted back the original question that he'd asked when he was first confronted by the prince.

"Well." He hummed, "What are you doing out here?"

Charles' lips pursed for a moment, "I wanted to come for a fly. Can't a man go out once in a while?"

Well. He couldn't argue with that, I suppose.

After all, he was out for the same reason—being cooped up in his home between races was boring. Painfully so, it left him staring at the ceiling, mind running wild.

That was something he hated.

So that statement humanized Charles just a little bit in his eyes. Maybe he wasn't the "untouchable" prince, the one he couldn't stand, but just... some guy.

Maybe he wasn't as bad as he first perceived him as.

Max's eyes widened for a brief moment—Jesus Christ. What was with him tonight? This was Charles!

He had to physically shake the thought out of his head, disguising it as disagreement.

"No. Definitely not, you're supposed to stay cooped up in your fancy castle, eating gourmet meals served to you on a silver platter."

It was sarcastic, but this time it did hold a little bit of bite. Trying to remind himself of who they were to one another, brushing the thoughts off and changing the topic like Charles could hear them.

The other rider huffed a laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his heavy jacket—Clearly, he'd picked up on the shift in demeanour.

"Well..." He finally spoke again, shoulders shaking slightly with a shiver as the wind picked up, "I should go. I'll... see you next weekend."

And with that, he turned and walked away to his dragon, running his hand over Rubis' scales as he climbed back onto her back, leaning down to take hold of the reins.

He took one last glance at the blond, before they took off and disappeared over the vast ocean.

Fuck. What was he thinking?

They were rivals, why was Max thinking of him as a friend?

Nyx seemed to pick up on the tension and trotted over to him, tail wagging back and forth as she pushed her head into his arm.

He blinked, finally snapping out of the train of thoughts as he lightly ran his hand over the sleek dragon's head—He should go, too.

It was a long day tomorrow, he had to get back to his own life instead of dwelling over the life of a prince whom he hardly knew.

[activesplooger]

sugar daddy pt 3 is done lowkey

[fairchild06]

Riptides And Memories- Chapter 54

Andrea changed the direction of her finger, sending a small mark across her lover's chest.

"Ow," he voiced from his position on the bed.

"You've been hurt worse," she waved off.

"My girlfriend, so uncaring to my injured state," he teased.

She readjusted her position so she was laying on his chest completely. "You keep talking like that sweetheart, you're sleeping on the desk chair."

"You realise you're only proving my point," Aaric stated. Despite his words, he looked at her tenderly, love in his eyes.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're the one who can't handle a simple flick."

"Should I show you my foot?" he asked. "I'm sure the scar is still there from your knife."

She rolled her eyes. "You always bring that one back."

"Because it's a useful point," he argued.

"It's old. Find a new point or stop arguing."

"Shall I introduce the scratch mark on my stomach as exhibit a?"

Andrea scoffed. "I was popping a pimple."

"I don't have a pimple on my stomach."

Andrea ran a hand over the place she had just marked. "You did. Right on your big, strong abs."

His lips quirked in a smiled. "Are you saying I have nice abs, Riptide?"

Andrea rolled her eyes but smiled as well. "Yes, Aaric Greycastle, I am saying you, my lover and gym bro, have very nice abs."

He furrowed his brows. "What the hell is a gym bro?"

She shrugged. "Just an expression from my world. It means you go to the gym a lot."

He gripped her hips and pulled her up his body. "As I recall, you like my very nice abs."

She smiled against his lips. "I do." She kissed him, feeling herself relax in his grip. His one hand worked its way from her hip up her spine to the back of her neck. She pressed herself further into him, like she could join their skin together if she tried.

He groaned as he pulled away. "You're not playing fair, Riptide."

"I never said I would play fair," she stated. She leaned down and kissed his neck, working her way down his skin. He groaned under her touch. She liked feeling him above her, in her, feeling him care for her. But she also loved hearing him groan for her, how he melted under her touch, how the sun-

The sun?

Andrea sat up and looked to the window. It was the time of year that the rise of the sun meant to get up. She sighed in resignation. Isrr had let her stay in bed that morning since they were leaving for the front lines the next morning. She had used the time wisely, yet it still felt too short. "We need to get up," she stated sadly.

Aaric groaned beneath her, not in the way she liked. "Do we have to?" he asked.

She turned back to Aaric. "Unfortunately, yes. We both have things we need to do today."

He sighed and sat up so they were face to face. "We don't have to."

She kissed his nose. "You, my love, are taking the rebellious prince trope to a whole new level." She got out of bed, walking to the armoir to get dressed. "Get up, you're still a Rider."

She could feel his stare on her backside. "Yes, ma'am."

Andrea caught his arm before he could move to the bathroom. She pulled him down. Instead of going for his lips, she redirected and kissed his neck. He groaned, then yelped as she sucked harshly.

She pulled away, smiling at the sight of the mark on his neck.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Multiple reasons," she admitted. Andrea drew out the breast wraps and began the long winding of them. "My own satisfaction, a promise, but also so those needy bitches know to stay away."

Aaric shook his head and walked into the bathroom. "Only you, Riptide."

That made her smile.

Later, Andrea was able to catch her squad leader before he left formation.

"Hey, Harvelle," she called. He didn't stop but motioned for her to walk with him. She caught up to his stride and asked, "You're a metallurgist, right?"

He furrowed his brows but nodded. "I am. Why?"

"I got some armor on the trip to the Isles," she related. "But it's bent out of shape and doesn't fit my.... it was made for a guy. I was hoping you might reshape it for me."

He furrowed his brows. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Can you?"

"Maybe," he admitted. "I know you head out to Montserrat tomorrow. If you bring it to dinner tonight, I can have it done by the time you get back."

She smiled at him. "That would be great. Thanks. I owe you, really."

He shook his head. "I'm just doing my job, Durran."

"I still appreciate it," she informed. She jogged a little to catch up to the rest of her squad.

"What was that about?" Patrisiah asked.

"Just needed a favour was all," Andrea informed. "History first, right?"

Zay nodded. "You need my notes again?"

"Probably," she admitted. "I can remember the dates, but I swear to the gods I get the events mixed up."

"Doesn't help half the shit is wrong," Palos reminded.

"That too," Andrea agreed.

"Hope you're ready for the test on Monday then," Isaak stated.

Andrea groaned in pain. "Fuck. I forgot about that."

"Study session this weekend?" Zay proposed.

"Can't," Andrea stated. "I'm flying out tomorrow morning so Isrr can spend time with Teine. I'm gone all weekend."

Patrisiah shook her head. "Seems like too much of a hassle."

Andrea raised a brow at her. "It's either I fly out every now and then, or I put my dragon through insurmountable pain."

"I meant the mating process entirely," Patrisiah clarified. "I don't see the point in bonding yourself to someone entirely."

Zay winced. He was so emotionally destroyed by their fight it was nearly pathetic.

"Some people don't," Andrea admitted. "But I won't begrudge my dragon his love."

Patrisiah paused at this, watched her face. "Do you mean that? About the... some people?"

Andrea nodded. "I've heard of it, yes."

The older girl went silent at that.

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

Andrea landed in Montserrat, Isrr taking off a second after she dismounted. We made it, Andrea sent to Mira. Isrr just flew off so make sure your shields are up.

The response was faded, like she was far away. "He might have to wait, we're on patrol. Though I have a feeling that'll be ending shortly."

Andrea smiled as she walked through the gate. I'm gonna head to the barracks, set my stuff down. If you need a fight when you get back, let me know. She slid her shields up, allowing Mira her privacy and blocking Isrr at the same time.

Yet, when she moved to the interior, she heard sounds of conflict coming from down the hall. She followed, thinking that Infantry and Riders may have gotten in a scuffle (wasn't unheard of).

Instead, she found a converted sparring space. There were half a dozen mats on the ground, a table on its side leaned against the wall and chairs stacked in a corner. There were large windows against opposite side of the room, with marks on the wall. Some of the marks were still smoking or showed other signs of being recent. Three of the mats were occupied. Two were Riders, another was a Rider and an Infantry soldier.

Andrea stopped in the door, watching. The Riders were using signets, metallurgy and flames in clear display. As well as a wind signet against the Infantry officer.

One Rider saw Andrea and paused in incredulity. He gained a punch across the jaw for good measure. He stumbled back and glared at his opponent. "Stop-dammit Lucas, stop. Asshole."

Lucas smirked. "What, can't take a punch all of a sudden?"

"There's a fucking cadet, dickwad," the first Rider stated.

In unison, everyone stopped and turned to Andrea. She waved awkwardly. "Hi." If she wasn't as old as she was, she was sure her voice would've cracked.

An older Rider, almost in his forties, crossed his arms as he looked at her. "What are you doing here, cadet?"

"Mandatory leave, sir," she provided. She pulled out the missive she always carried for trips like these. "My dragon is mated with one of the dragons stationed here. I'm just here so they don't go crazy."

The Rider took the missive, his hair an equal balance of grey and brunet. He scanned it before refolding it giving it back. "Sounds like a hassle."

Andrea shrugged. "He gets laid and I get a break from seeing Carr's face. I call it a win."

The Rider from before, Lucas laughed, a gleam in his eyes. "Oh, you might just be my new favourite person here. What's your name, kid?"

"Andrea Durran."

"Durran?" The Infantry officer spat.

Andrea felt her walls raising. By the look on his face, he definitely knew about her relation to Xaden, likely still considered her a traitor. "Heard of it?"

He scoffed and walked out. Andrea stepped out of the way, sure he would have bumped her shoulder otherwise.

"He seems friendly," she muttered.

"Ignore Curtis," a younger Rider with blue hair advised. "He's got a stick up his ass on a good day."

"What's your signet?" another asked.

"Illusions."

"Haven't heard of one manifesting since Kaori," the one fighting Lucas remarked.

Andrea shrugged. She raised her hand and a small snake head slithered out from her sleeve. It spiraled up her wrist before settling at her fingertips. Its ebony black scales reflected the magelights, underbelly golden and eyes swallowing any light. It was small, barely half an inch wide yet the Riders all took a step back at the sight of it. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air before its head lowered and it faded to smoke.

"I'm practicing," she admitted. "Can't hold it very long yet."

"That's fucking impressive," the blue haired one stated.

"How long are you here, Durran?" the older Rider asked.

"Just the weekend," she replied.

"Since you're here..." Lucas stepped off as their opponent gestured to the mat. "Why don't you show us what Basgiath has been teaching you?"

Andrea shrugged off her pack and set it by the door. She took off her flight jacket. She eyed the Rider as she made her way over. Tall, knives, no visible signet but a possible psychic one. There was a sword on their back, meaning they knew how to wield it.

Andrea drew her shortsword and stepped up to the mat. Might as well try it while getting her ass beat.

The Rider squatted into position. They drew their sword.

"Begin!" Lucas exclaimed.

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

"You're a dumbass," Mira admonished later that night.

Andrea shrugged, disinfecting a cut on her arm. "I was trying to get some training in. What's the difference when I'm fighting with you?"

"The difference is you put your life in a stranger's hands!" Mira shouted.

"I did the same when I told Isrr to bond with Teine."

Mira had to take a step back in shock from her blank tone. "You... You already knew me-"

"Barely," Andrea admitted. "I had no idea how you would react to this. I trusted that he was making a good choice because I knew my dragon. But I was worried about you. I wasn't sure how you would respond and that terrified me." She picked up the needle and thread for stitches.

Mira was silent as Andrea threaded the needle.

"I was trying to get stronger," Andrea continued. "Because I know things are amping up. And I don't know how to help. So I thought if I train, if I get stronger, maybe I could be of use."

Normally, these words were saved for the bond. But with their dragons currently mating, neither wanted to poke that bond in case the backsplash of emotions might send them spiraling.

Mira walked closer and took the needle. "You can barely see it. Let me stitch you up."

Andrea nodded. She grit her teeth as Mira completed the first stitch.

"What can I expect?" Mira asked. "When things... amp up?"

Andrea bit her lip, unsure if she should share all the details. Yet that arrow in her bag proved she was changing things. And not just in a small way. A man was alive because of her. Maybe... she might be able to save Mira too.

"A battle in Aretia," she responded. "The wards get raised."

Mira paused. "One of the Irids?"

Andrea nodded. "Then... a battle in Draithus. In April. I think? I don't know. The timeline is confusing. I can't tell you exact dates because I don't know."

Mira nodded. "What causes the battle? How does it start? You said the books follow Violet's perspective, so how is my sister there?" Her fingers caught the needle and tugged to get the skin to close together.

Andrea closed her eyes. "You. You and Teine get captured by Theophanie, that Maven that's been obsessed with Violet."

Mira stilled entirely. Her jaw clenched. "You're wrong."

"Mira, for the love of God, I wish I was. God, I can't... I will never forget that scene. And I am sorry, but that happens. When has something not happened?"

"Traeger didn't die," she countered. Her voice was still full of firm marble.

"That was random happenstance," Andrea stated. "I wasn't trying to pull the arrow card. It just happened. This is something I have no control over, no choice. Mira, I hate it, gods I do, but this will happen."

Mira tied off the thread of the final thread. "No."

Andrea closed her eyes. "I wish it wasn't true."

Mira stepped away from her. "Go to your barracks."

Mira didn't talk to her for the rest of her stay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No need to worry about the guards who escorted you. They were punished rightly, their families sent the soldiers' things. You understand I had no choice. They lost the prince, and my son. Such a thing cannot stand."

-Excerpt of the second letter from King Tauri the Wise, Calldyr Palace to Aaric Greycastle, Rider's Quadrant, Basgiath

Taglist: @littowl

[separatist-apologist]

We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

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

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

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

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | AO3

Gwyn had to sneak out of her room that next morning at the crack of dawn. Azriel was too exhausted to stop her, having kept her up most of the night with his fingers and mouth…and his cock. She’d promised Nesta and Emerie she’d meet them for sunrise yoga, nevermind that she, too, had only made it to bed two hours before. The only thing that sent Az to bed in the first place was her pleading— I need to get some sleep or I won’t leave the bed at all tomorrow.

He’d been a little too pleased with that idea, though he relented.

Dressing quickly, Gwyn couldn’t help but compare him to Jonathon. Azriel was the opposite of one and done. It was as if that first orgasm was merely a warm-up, a prelude to his evening and he just needed to get it out of his way. He could keep things going for hours while making it feel like minutes. Gwyn kept waiting for the moment when she’d inevitably get bored, when she’d starting faking her noises because it wasn’t fun anymore.

Granted, it had only been two days. Still. 

Azriel ate pussy, at least. And Jonathon had balked every time. 

She made her way across the resort where both Nesta and Emerie were waiting. Both of them looked radiant in the early morning light—their partners were letting them rest. They patted the mat between them, having laid her out a space so someone else wouldn’t take her spot. 

“You alright?” Em asked, catching the bags under Gwyn’s eyes.

“No coffee yet,” Gwyn replied. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with. 

Nesta nodded, sitting cross-legged on the mat. “Hey. So…this is awkward, but Jonathon sent me a friend request.”

“Me too,” Emerie replied.

Gwyn groaned. “Did he say anything?”

They exchanged a glance. “Here,” Nesta whispered as soft music began to play. They were set up on the patio just beside the pool, overlooking a truly spectacular beach. Gwyn wished they were on the beach, but apparently that only happened on the weekends. Gwyn supposed she understood why, given the smallness of their group. Easier to keep everyone by the pool than sprawled out on sand.

Nesta slid her phone to Gwyn, face up on the purple mat. Gwyn was going to kill Jonathon.

I apologize if this is weird, or out of left-field. I am deeply concerned for Gwyneth’s emotional state right now. I know you’re her best friend, and I was hoping we could discuss what’s going on with her. She ended things abruptly after discussing marriage and it seems as if she’s having a string of one-night stands. I am also concerned she may be drinking excessively given the way she’s been speaking lately. 

I care about her deeply and I just want to see her well. Please reach out to me at your earliest convenience—

“Oh my God,” Gwyn snapped, shoving the phone away from her. “This is exactly why I ended things.”

“You said he broke up with you,” Em murmured. The jig was up. Gwyn glanced at her friends.

“I didn’t want to spoil the wedding by making it some big, dramatic thing,” she told them. “Or make you think I was miserable down here by myself. I figured if you knew I was single because I broke up with him, you’d try and set me up.”

“Of course not,” Nesta replied casually. “And you wouldn’t have spoiled anything. I hated Jonathon.”

“Same,” Emerie agreed. “He was rude.”

“Why does he think you’re sleeping around?”

Fucking Azriel. 

“Az took my phone and told him to stop calling one night. The phone was ringing off the hook,” Gwyn explained. That wasn’t weird—the two of them shared a room. “It pissed him off.”

“Azriel’s such a dumbass,” Emerie muttered. 

“I’m not drinking excessively, either,” Gwyn seethed. “I just don’t want to talk to him for hours on end. He won’t accept I don’t want this relationship anymore and if he thinks he can bully me—”

“Ladies,” the teacher interrupted, and too late, Gwyn realized everyone else was in child’s pose but the three of them. “Take a deep breath. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

Fuck that, Gwyn thought. She did as she was told, though, annoyed to find that going through each new pose while focusing on her breathing did help. 

Right up until Azriel stepped into view. Shirtless. In cobalt blue swim trunks that cut to his mid thigh, which only served to highlight how utterly muscular he was. He was sandwiched between Rhysand and Cassian, all three looking like casual models. Cassian waved to Nesta, eyes on her thrust out breasts. 

Azriel arched his eyebrow and Gwyn knew what he was thinking. Sneaking out? 

She looked back at her mat. She couldn’t spend two weeks in bed with him, not when she was supposed to be living a carefree existence for the first time in years. What good was a Jonathon-free life if she immediately acquired a boyfriend.

As if Azriel even wanted that. She caught how his eyes swept over the pool, noting all the very beautiful women in skimpy little suits looking him up and down. He could probably have a different woman in his bed every single night if he wanted to. 

It soured her mood a little. Gwyn just barely made it through the rest of the session and the accompanying breakfast where she did do a little drinking, if only to spite Jonathon. Petty until the end, Gwyn had the waiter take a picture of her, Emerie, and Nesta holding huge margaritas with the caption: excessive drinking at 9am. 

Let him stew over that. 

Gwyn was so lost in her victory that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in her suite until an arm wrapped around her waist.

“Are you avoiding me?” Azriel murmured. He smelled like suntan lotion and chlorine, a decent combination, in her opinion.

“Should I be?” she replied, smiling when his lips pressed against her neck.

“Imagine my disappointment when I woke up this morning….dreaming of you…rock hard…all alone.”

“Sounds tough,” she replied with a sigh. “How ever will you survive?”

“By fucking you right now,” he replied darkly, still holding her as he walked her into the bathroom.

“I have bingo with Nesta and Emerie in an hour,” she complained. Azriel paused.

“I didn’t realize I was fucking someone’s grandma.”

She almost laughed. “Get used to it,” she replied, pulling out of his grasp. Azriel was just behind, trailing after her as she made her way to the shower. 

“Oh I will,” he informed her, hazel eyes practically smoldering with heat. “I’ll bet my old lady needs help in the shower.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she retorted, swatting at him. Azriel was unrepentant. 

“C’mon. Let me soap you up before your bingo game–”

“Get out of here Azriel,” she insisted, even as he worked his wet swim trunks over his hips. He was half-erect and well on his way to fully hard. It seemed almost a waste. Almost. She knew if she let him in the shower with her, she’d be late. Azriel couldn’t be quick to save his life. 

“Go back to the pool,” Gwyn ordered in her bossiest tone, even as she pulled off her sports bra. Azriel put a dramatic hand over his chest at the sight of her bare breasts, made all the more ridiculous when he sank to his knees as she shimmied out of her leggings.

“Gwyn,” he pretend rasped. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m going to actually kill you if you don’t go find something to do.”

He shook his head, shoving himself back into his shorts. “I’ll be back for you.”

“I’m all yours after bingo,” Gwyn lied. Her, Emerie, and Nesta had signed up for a snorkeling expedition that afternoon. She didn’t think Azriel would notice her absence until it was too late.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he growled, stalking out of the bathroom.

She only laughed.

AZRIEL:

Azriel was sprawled over a pool chair, eyes shaded behind dark glasses. He had a margarita in one hand, he had the sun on his bare chest and—god willing—a hot woman on his cock in twenty minutes. He could hear the bingo game in the background, led by a resort employee who called himself sexy Alex to a crowd of mostly cheering grandmas.

And Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn. 

Cassian could hear it too, if the smile on his face was any indication. Sexy Alex was handing out fanny packs and resort themed mugs to the winners. Azriel hoped Gwyn won, if only to make his own dry cock worth it.

He fished for his phone in his swim trunks, ignoring how Rhysand was wading towards the pool bar to very obviously hit on Feyre Archeron. With Gwyn otherwise occupied, Azriel wanted to do a little reconnaissance. 

He wanted to spy on Jonathon. He just need to know what kind of loser had a woman like Gwyn and fucked it up so bad she didn’t even want to talk to him. And maybe, if he was honest, he wanted to see what she liked about him. 

Jonathan was easy to find. Azriel merely worked backwards from Gwyn’s profile, halting to stare at a picture of her with her cleavage out, as if he hadn’t had his face—and his cock—buried between her bare tits. He was down bad and he knew it. He couldn’t even be embarrassed about it, though it did make him nervous. 

Azril wasn’t stupid, though. Gwyn was smart and smart women liked smart men. Jonathan’s profile was dripping in pretense. Edited photos of his literary awards, his diplomas, and pages from his book graced his grid almost as often as his weird looking face did. Jonathan wasn’t attracted—at least, conventionally. Certainly not in comparison to Gwyn. Azriel paused at every picture of the two of them, drinking in how Gwyn was so often dressed up and gorgeous while Jonathon looked as if he’d just fumbled his way out of bed. 

What was it like, he wondered? To spend all that time on her hair, on her make-up and her outfit just to get roped into a picture with a guy in an anime t-shirt? Was the bar so low that Azriel could put on a buttoned up shirt and outdo Jonathon? Or was he merely a fling, an amusement to pass the time before she went out looking for another guy with a PhD?

Instagram turned to facebook, where Jonathon cataloged his every thought like it was a journal. 

Thinking of her- as I so often am. She is the sun and—

Moody and mercurial in equal measure, I something wonder if, unlike a coffee pod, I too am recyclable—

Saw a leaf blowing across a trash strewn street—

Jesus fucking Christ. He was tempted to send a friend request for no other reason than to let Jonathon see how his poetry stacked up to the videos Azriel occasionally posted of himself beneath a car, walking someone through how to do simple tasks they might not otherwise know how to do—like an oil change.

It was male posturing that made him want to do it. 

I’m fucking your girl and she loves it.

Except, Gwyn wasn’t Jonathon’s girl. She wasn’t Azriel’s, either, for that matter. 

“Sounds like sexy Alex is wrapping up,” Cassian said, interrupting Azriel’s jealous thoughts. “I wonder if Nesta’s interested in sexy Cassian, too.”

“Doubt it,” Azirel replied, sliding his phone back in his pocket. What had he learned? Nothing he didn’t already know. “I think I’m gonna take a nap.”

“You sure? There’s a sand volleyball game in twenty. Lots of singles…”

“Are you trying to pick up women?” Azriel asked dryly. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“No. I’m trying to help you get laid.”

“I don’t need help,” Azriel reminded his best friend. 

“Mmm, of course not. That’s why you’re going back to your room with a dry dick.”

Azriel shrugged. “I didn’t know you were so worried about my dick, but trust me. It’s just fine.”

“You and Rhys,” Cassian grumbled, catching Rhys leaned over a sparkling, blue tiled bar trying and failing to convince Feyre to touch his chest. 

Azriel ignored it, drink still in hand. He caught a flash of that coppery hair just at the edge of a large pavilion, vanishing around a corner. Azriel was tempted to run after her, to throw her over his shoulder and take them both right back to the room.

“Hey Az!” Nesta’s bright voice interrupted his depraved thoughts. “Are you gonna do sand volleyball?”

“Do I look like I play sand volleyball?” he asked her dryly.

“Lucien is—”

“Again, I have to ask. Do I look like Lucien?”

“No. He smiles more often. I just thought it might be nice to have an athlete—”

“Former athlete—”

“On our team.”

“Join Vanserra. I’m going to take a nap.”

“Oh come on,” Nesta pleaded. “So is Gwyn. Everyone is so boring. If you go in there, you’ll bother her, besides. Please Az? Pretty please?”

Bothering Gwyn was the whole point. Her pussy wasn’t going to eat itself. “Another day.”

Nesta frowned, but Azriel didn’t care. Only Cassian was required to cater to Nesta’s every whim—not him. He was there to make sure Cassian made it down the aisle in one piece, said I do, and didn’t embarrass Nesta in any way.

Well, anymore than usual, at any rate. 

“Fine,” Nesta grumbled. “If you see Gwyn, send her my way, though. Jonathan sent another text.”

Azriel almost gave the whole thing away. He nodded, his jaw tight. Why the fuck was Jonathon texting Nesta about Gwyn? If Jonathon wanted an update, he could text Azriel. Azriel was more than happy to let him know what Gwyn was up to, complete with a video of her sucking his dick.

He was in a shitty mood by the time he got back 

Storming into their shared bedroom, Azriel meant to rant about it to Gwyn. He wanted to know what it would take to get Jonathon to leave her the fuck alone.

Gwyn was laying face down in the bed, dressed in a white tank and a blue thong…and nothing else. Holy fucking shit. His hand twitched and Azriel had to bite back the urge to moan at the sight of her round ass perched in the air. Her auburn hair was spread over her face, eyes closed. 

“Wake up, Gwyn,” he murmured, prowling towards her.

“You’re insatiable,” she mumbled. “Aren’t there other women on this resort you can torment?”

“None that are half as hot,” he replied, running his hands up her bare thighs. “Stay where you are. I’ll take care of this.”

“Take care of—” her words ended abruptly when he slid his tongue over the stripe of fabric covering her pussy and ass. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he whispered, lifting her hips just enough he could continue licking her. Gwyn turned her head to watch, pushing her long, thick hair off her face. 

Azriel pulled the fabric to the slide, holding her gaze as he did it. Gooseflesh pebbled over her skin, her pussy already gleaming with arousal. She was so sweet—so easy.

His girl, though he didn’t dare to say so. Not out loud, not after three days with her in his bed. He knew she’d think he was crazy, no better than Jonathon. And Azriel, nervous and stupid as he was, had no idea if all the pussy licking was convincing her she ought to keep him around longer than the vacation.

“Look at you, putting your ass in my face,” he murmured, kissing one cheek, and then the other. “I’m starting to think your down bad for my mouth.”

“Maybe I am,” she panted, pushing her pussy back into his face. Azriel used his thumbs to spread her lower lips open, his tongue delving into her without another word. He groaned, rubbing his aching cock into the bed to alleviate his ache. 

“Do you need me to suck you, Az?” she whispered, earning another too loud moan. He did, and he didn’t want to stop. Not when she was warm and sweet and so easy to drive upwards with his tongue. He wanted to taste her come and to that end, couldn’t stop himself even though he would have liked to put her on his face so she could suck him, too.

First things first. For a moment there was only the sound of his sucking, kissing lips and her soft moans as his fingers began to toy with her ass. He was all but fucking her with his tongue, trying to figure out how he might break her against his face. What else did she like? Azriel wanted to know every little thing.

He pushed a finger into her body long enough to coat it with her arousal before pushing against her ass. Gwyn exhaled sharply as he invaded up to the knuckle, lips sucking her clit into his mouth in an attempt to distract her from the pressure. She writhed, hips bucking against him.

“Az,” she breathed. “Fucking God, Azriel—”

“That’s right,” he couldn’t help himself. “Tell me I’m your god.”

She laughed sharply, the sound choking into a moan when his tongue began to rub up the length of her, circling her clit as his finger pumped a slow rhythm in and out of her ass. He wanted to put his cock in it—he’d work her into it. 

Her hands curled into the sheets, pulling them off the bed just as she always did. Hips rolling, his face coated in her slick arousal, Azriel pushed that finger just a little deeper and sucked again. Gwyn came with a scream their friends surely heard all the way at the beach. 

He gave her no time to rest, withdrawing just long enough to slide his cock right into her. Fisting her long hair, he pulled her up and began to drive himself into her. 

“You’ll come on my cock, too, Gwyn,” he growled, teeth scraping against her neck. “I want to feel you make a mess of me.”

She whined, tits bouncing with each vicious thrust of his cock. She was so fucking wet, so tight it made him feel insane. 

“Az,” she moaned, arching her neck. He pressed a sucking kiss against the nape of her neck, hard enough to leave a bruise. He was too pussy struck to care how she’d explain that later. He wanted her marked, wanted everyone to know how well he fucked her.

“Az, please,” she panted.

“Is my good girl begging to come?” he asked, his own orgasm building hot in the base of his cock. “Does she need my fingers, too?”

“Yes,” she said. Azriel slid his large hand over her bouncy tits, tugging and toying with her nipples before continuing over the flat expanse of her stomach to her dripping wet pussy. He let himself feel his own cock slide in and out of her achingly tight body, the skin coated in her slick. He hissed, clenching his ass cheeks to stop from coming right then and there. 

Azriel began rubbing tight circles over her clit, his other hand playing with her breast. Gwyn rolled her head onto his shoulder, knees spread obscenely wide. He wished for a mirror to watch them, so he could look her in the eyes.

Who else could ever fuck you half as well? He didn’t dare ask it. Not when she squeezed around him, milking the cum from his cock as she came. He groaned, sinking his teeth into her shoulder blade to keep himself from being as loud as he wanted to be. He couldn’t stop pumping, even when there was nothing left in his balls, Azriel was practically rutting into her.

She twisted in his arms for a kiss, tasting her pussy on his tongue while they fell back to the bed in a tangle of limbs. Her fingers stroked through his hair, mouth peppering his jaw with kisses. 

“That was good,” she breathed. “That was really good.”

“Take ten minutes,” he whispered, yanking her against his body.

“Ten minutes?”

“That's the only reprieve you get.”

And when those ten minutes were up and Gwyn rolled onto his chest, grinding her wet pussy over his stomach, Azriel had forgotten what he’d been so mad about. 

He’d forgotten everything but her.

[thisautistic]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Original Male Character Characters: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham, Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Porsche Pachara Kittisawat, Original Male Character(s), Khun Tankhun Theerapanyakun, Macau Theerapanyakun Additional Tags: Rape, Rape Recovery, Rape Aftermath, Rape is not between VegasPete, Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Guilt, Burns, Beating, Revenge (eventually), Whumptober, Pete!Whump, Mind Games, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Mutilation, Electrocution, Nipple Torture, Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Sexual Coercion, Blood, Biting, Dissociation, Suicidal Thoughts, Anal Sex, Knives, Branding Summary:

Pete gets kidnapped. He gets hurt -bad- then he is given back. Pete and Vegas try to make a new normal.

Vegas' past comes back to haunt him - and Pete.

[andallthatmishigas]

Baxter witnesses a sweet moment between Lord and Lady Grantham, Anna gets a wonderful surprise, Mary prepares for her big day, and Matthew experiences the most important moment of his life.

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light Chapter 14: Crescent Lagoon

A/N: Chapter 14 is here, and fairly short, especially after chapter 13′s monster length. Might even post chapter 15 today. We’ll see. 

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14

Chapter 14: Crescent Lagoon

           The sombrosa swords were apparently a type of dual swords whose handles were half of the other, kind of like cutting a curved sword down the middle lengthwise.

           No, Seth wasn’t allowed to touch them, yes they were magic. The wielder, with proper concentration, could make the swords sharp enough to cut through almost anything, even dragon hide, or sturdy enough to withstand tremendous pressure, though only one affect could be applied to each sword at one time. Apparently the Knights of the Dawn had had a combat tournament back in the day, and Grandma Gloria and Grandpa Stan had been the two finalists.

           Vanessa took over discussing what an umbraka was and why them running loose is the perfect reason to end a tournament, but kept referencing other animals that Seth didn’t know, and it was decided there wasn’t enough time to get into that. There was another sanctuary that needed saving.

           He was helped out of the Canoe by Warren, who had gone through before him. Instantly the humidity hit.

           “It feels like I’m trying to breath in the ocean,” Seth complained.

           “You’re welcome to compare a bit of humidity to the real experience,” Vanessa said, gesturing to the harbor. Tanu came through, then Grandma Gloria. Holding the canoe steady were short halflings. They were covered in black tattoos over their reddish skin and more of them were scattered between their spot and the treeline.

           Their group gathered around a tall islander woman. Her long, curly black hair had a couple of gray streaks, but her age didn’t show otherwise. Next to her was a red-headed surfer dude.

           “Welcome to Crescent Lagoon,” the woman said, “I am the caretaker, and due to the assistance of Knights Warren and Vanessa, we were able secure this small area to be protected under treaty. Be aware that the boundaries cover the beach, the water inside the cove, and about ten meters out on either side of where the beach turns into forest. And of course, my home, which you are all welcome to.”

           Seth looked around, trying to make out houses around the enormous trees, but couldn’t see anything. Then a halfling came down an elevator from the big tree in the center, and Seth’s eyes went up. And up. Because this caretaker’s home made their old treehouse back at Fablehaven look like a doghouse.

           “Wow,” Seth said, looking over the rope system. “We sleep in hammocks, right?”

           “I’m sure we can string one up directly over the dragon-infested ocean for you, if you like,” Warren said with a grin.

           “There are plenty of dangers here already,” Tanu said, “I don’t believe we need to tempt more.”

           “Thank you for receiving us during these difficult times,” Grandma said, bowing to the caretaker, “I am Gloria Larsen, a knight of the dawn. Allow me to introduce my Grandson, Seth Sorenson, a shadow charmer, and Knight Tanu Dafu, an expert potion’s master. We will look forward to working together as we pursue our mutual goals.”

           “Well met,” the Caretaker responded. “I am Savani, and this is one of my assistants, Grady. We will speak of more sensitive issues inside, particularly our mutual goals.” Savani started leading them away from the beach.

           “Do we climb a rope latter to get up there?” Seth asked, looking at the interchanging platforms for a rope that hung all the way down.

           “Not quite,” Grady said, “The Maze keeps us on our toes, but we spare ourselves at least the effort of getting up there.”

           “It’s called the Monkey Maze?” Tanu asked, “Do the rooms shift?”

           “Against intruders,” Grady answered, “We work closely with Heliconia, the dryad of this grove, to keep them together for most uses. Certain parts are forbidden, of course.”

           “Is it required for all preserves to have dungeons for the horribly dangerous?” Seth asked, straining his ears to hear the sounds of the undead. There was a faint whispering, but it was slightly different than the Blackwell or even Fablehaven’s dungeon. He couldn’t make out anything but a low murmur, almost hidden by the sound of waves.

           “Yes,” Vanessa said, “it is part of the base foundational treaty that all the sanctuaries are copied after. The caretakers must remove those who threaten the integrity of the treaty, and the undead rarely agree to be bound while being attracted to the magical souls of those on a preserve. Or they do, then break their word, and wind up in jail.”

           “Noted,” Seth said.

           “I would tell you that you should disregard that information,” Grandma Larsen said, amused, “but I suppose you should take note.”

           “Here we are,” Savani said, bringing them to a platform that had a rope going up into the trees. “Please assemble on the platform.”

           “It’s easier if you hold onto the rope in the center,” Vanessa warned, and everyone but Warren grabbed on. Seth grinned and kept his hands off.

           “Brace yourself,” Warren said, crouching a little. The platform shot upwards, and Seth fell on his butt with a surprised laugh. He made it back to his feet before the platform stopped, and the adults were all chuckling at him.

           “Do we get everywhere in the treehouse with unbuckled rollercoaster elevators?” Seth asked, jumping onto the bigger room the platform had become a part of.

           Savani chuckled, “No, the rest is walking, I’m afraid. Come, the Menuhene have prepared refreshments to welcome you.”

           “Menuhene?” Seth asked.

           “Think of a breed of dwarves that hold agreements similar to brownies,” Tanu suggested, “Though their specialty if building, rather than maintaining households.”

           “Awesome,” Seth said.

           “Here we are,” Savani said, leading them to a different enclosed room via rope bridge. It had a couple of tables and wicker chairs. “Now, explain to me what brings a child to my nearly fallen preserve, former caretaker or not. Vanessa and Warren promised allies, not liabilities.”

           “Hey, I saved Wyrmroost, and I’ve handle more secret vaults than you would ever believe,” Seth said, “I thought we were past doubting me and Kendra.”

           “Be respectful Seth,” Grandma said gently, then turned to Savani, “It’s true, that Seth is young, and if it hadn’t been for the opening of the demon prison and the upcoming dragon war, we would have preferred him to grow up before venturing near any dragon sanctuary. He does have experience. Unfortunately, Seth is one of few true Dragon tamers in the world, able to move and converse with ease. Seth has also become a shadow charmer, and his skills are necessary for upcoming trials, one of which involves retrieving his sister from the Phantom Isle. One of our goals here is to find training for Seth from a demon whose interests are strongly aligned against dragons.”

           “A dragon sancturary is an odd place for a dragon hating demon to lair,” Savani said, “Who is it you seek?”

           “Talizar,” Grandma said.

           “I am familiar with him,” Savani nodded, “he’s one of the rare demons that invoke boundary magic as one of his tools, rather than relying on his own strength against dragon neighbors. Caretakers in the past have mentioned him activating Moai to more strictly enforce dragon boundaries. His lair is on the same island as the corrupted pool.”

           “Another of our goals,” Tanu said with a nod, “We have reason to believe that Ronodin kidnapped Seth’s sister and our dear friend, Kendra Sorenson. Any chance to capture and interrogate him needs to be investigated immediately.”

           “And, of course,” Warren added, “We want to help further restore the boundaries of Crescent Lagoon, prevent it from falling and all that jazz.”

           Savani nodded slowly, eyeing them. “I see where our interests align. I will lend you aid where I can, but my aid is further reduced by the fall of this preserve, though it improves with the aid of Warren and Vanessa, who were able to bring back the Moai that protects the Monkey Maze. As long as one Moai is active, the outer boundaries of this preserve are intact. Unfortunately, this is a temporary refuge.”

           “Why is it only temporary?” Grandma Gloria asked.

           “I see there was not time for complete explanations,” Savani said, going to a map on the wall, “We lost the Sunset Pearl, which was the magic source for all the Moai in the preserve. As a failsafe, individual moai can be activated independent of the sunset pearl, as the moai currently protecting here was by consuming a sacrifice of a person’s most treasured object. I will not be able to pay the debt I owe to Warren for being willing to sacrifice his.”

           “What was it?” Seth asked.

           Warren was looking at the floor, “A limited print baseball card I always carry with me. The player was my dad’s best friend, an Uncle to me, close as family can be. He died of cancer years ago, and it was all I had left of him.”

           “Warren’s sacrifice was accepted,” Savani said, “As was my sacrifice of my family’s ancestral tablets. I can read the Moai, and we have two weeks of protection before another sacrifice is required by someone else.”

           “It’s harder than you think,” Vanessa said, “Deciding on a most important object. I couldn’t think of anything then, and still can’t think of anything that the Moai would have accepted. Obviously the goal is to restore the Sunset Pearl before our current sacrifice runs out.”

           “Any idea where the Sunset Pearl was taken?” Tanu asked.

           “None,” Savani sighed, “I’ve lost many allies in the process of looking, but nothing has come from those sacrifices.”

           “They also need to know about the Triclops,” Vanessa said.

           Savani nodded, “Mombatu the Triclops is the designated dragon slayer of this sanctuary. He became active when the sanctuary fell, and he is savage. He will slay a dragon before a human, but he has lost his faculties over time. He is so ancient, my people supposed him dead, and now he is a danger to anyone who comes near him, including me. He has driven the dragons away from this particular island, and is therefore the current greatest threat to our borders.”

           “Really, there is no way to talk to him?” Grandma Gloria asked, “Seems a poor choice for a dragon slayer allied with the treaty makers.”

           Savani shrugged, “Our legends say the original caretaker could soothe him to peace with a flute song, but the song and the flute have been lost to legend.”

           “Shame we didn’t bring Newel and Doren with us this time,” Seth said, giving a little grin. The cowards would absolutely refuse to play their panflutes for the triclops unless the only other choice was to be eaten.

           “As Savani suggested,” Vanessa said, a wry grin on her lips, “The magic was in the flute, rather than being a fan of the instrument. We’ll let our satyr friends recover another day in Fablehaven before testing their bravery once again.”

           “Have you seen the site where the Sunset Pearl was kept?” Tanu asked.

           “I saw it with Hako,” Warren said, “We didn’t find much. Ten really big moai in a ring facing inwards. An altar of piled stones at the center with a bowl on top. Supposedly three guardians protected the pearl, but there was no sign of them. There were tracks from the triclops though.”

           “No sign of the three guardians and triclops tracks,” Grandma Larsen mused, “Were they dependent on the Pearl for existence?”

           “I believe so,” Savani said, “and the triclops tracks are likely from it’s rampaging, rather than having to do with the theft. The triclops appeared long after the pearl had vanished.”

           “Okay, so we need a pearl, would like a flute, have to watch out for a rampaging triclops, Ronodin was spotted lurking around a corrupted pool, and we need to locate a demon to negotiate some training with him. Anything else we should discuss before planning?” Seth asked.

           “What remains of your staff?” Tanu asked.

           “Grady here,” Savani said, “Hako, our gamekeeper. And Uma. Uma is frail and in a wheelchair, but she will likely interest you, Potion Master.”

           Tanu blinked, and his took on a bit of awestruck, “Not Uma Stormbrewer.”

           “The same. She joined our staff after her legs gave out, but she and her skills remain sharp,” Savani said.

           “That’s…she’s a legend,” Tanu said, “She’s a grand master of potion making, I hardly deserve the title compared to her.”

           “Good thing you got courage potions in abundance,” Seth said, slapping him on the shoulder, “And I suppose you two should know about another ally we brought. Calvin, say hi.”

           Calvin peeked out of his pocket, “Hello,” he waved. “I wasn’t sure to introduce myself or not, I’m one of those assets best left hidden. I’m Calvin the Nipsie.”

           “You are welcome here, small ally,” Savani said, bowing her head in a nod of recognition. She waited a moment, then said, “I believe we have reached a summation of our assets and current goals. Onto planning. Hako was planning on investigating the corrupted pool alone today, since we had no timeframe for how long it would take Warren and Vanessa to find allies, even with the small dragon’s help.”

           “I want to go with and help with the investigation,” Seth said.

           “I go where Seth goes,” Grandma Gloria said. “Depending on what we can locate at the corrupted spring, it would also be foolish to not to greet Talizar and open negotiations for training while we are already outside the protections granted. Just as it would be foolish to delay, if our time limit is really only two weeks.

            “I believe I will skip this venture in order to consult longer with Uma,” Tanu decided, “I have many fresh ingredient from dragons that I hope she will be interested in.”

           “I believe she will be,” Savani said with a smile. Everyone turned to Vanessa and Warren.

           “Well, what do you say?” Warren asked Vanessa with a smile, “It’s been, what, almost twenty whole hours since our last near death experience? I think we’re up for another round.”

           “Right, practically a vacation,” she said drily. “Wouldn’t want to become bored with existing.”

           “Count us in for one trip to the corrupted spring,” Warren said.

           Finally, he could start following a lead on Kendra. She just had to keep Ronodin’s slimy hands and stupid words away from her for a little bit longer.