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gloomwitchwrites · 20 days

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Lavender: Part One

Brynjolf x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): second chances, past relationship, angst, kidnapping, denial of feelings, referenced harassment (non-graphic), suggestive themes

Word Count: 6.2k

Working as a lady's maid to Jarl Laila Law-Giver is supposed to provide you peace and a steady income, but your old life is quickly catching up to you. An old flame comes knocking, bringing you flowers and reminding you of the affection you've missed. Do you keep running? Or do you finally face the future you've always wanted but fear you'll lose again?

Part Two

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The dawn has not yet risen. It is near, but there is still time yet before the sun’s warm glow breaks the horizon. Sunrises in Skyrim are your favorite. It is one of the reasons why you greet the day so early.

From your apron, you withdraw two tiny bundles wrapped in simple beige cloth. It is not much, but it is good to give something to the gods whenever you visit a shrine. Even a simple prayer is a gift, but today you have more than just your voice.

Before you is a Shrine of Talos, located against Riften’s eastern wall. The shrine is slightly secluded and situated in a curved corner near Mistveil Keep and Black-Briar Manor. To your left is a small graveyard that backs up to the Hall of the Dead and the Temple of Mara. Other than an occasional guardsman that walks past, there is no one else around.

It is quiet. Peaceful. Just as it always is at this hour.

Behind the shrine is a statue of Talos himself. He towers over you, helmeted head slightly bent as if he too is in prayer. Trees with golden leaves create a half-circle around the back and sides of the shrine. At your feet, near the stone base, are little flowers springing forth from the ground.

Warmer weather is coming, and they are reaching out to seek it.

Unwrapping one bundle, you gently retrieve three gold coins. From there, you deposit the gold coins into the small silver bowl before the shrine. They clink softly in the subdued dark. The candles surrounding the shrine burn low, their stunted, melted bodies showing their use.

From the other bundle, you carefully remove a small handful of flowers, placing those in the bowl next to the gold coins. Your offerings do not amount to much, but it is all you can spare.

While working at Mistveil Keep for Jarl Laila Law-Giver has given you job security, the pay isn’t nearly as good as you originally believed it to be. Most of what you earn is used to feed, clothe, and house yourself. While Mistveil Keep provides all this, a portion of your earnings is still taken as a small fee to cover those costs. When you first accepted the job, the fee didn’t bother you because that practice is standard across all Jarl residences.

But once you received your first earnings, you realized quickly how little ended up in your hands. You always save just a few gold coins for yourself. The rest is sent away to your ailing mother and cranky aunt who are far from Riften.

Although you have little, you always make the effort to leave offerings at Talos’ shrine. The practice is not for you, but for your father and brothers. They are no longer here, but they all perished as any Nord should, with weapon in hand. That is why you come to the shrine to pray.

You pray that they are happily feasting in Sovngarde. You pray that they at least have each other.

Standing before the shrine, you bring your clasped hands against your chest, head bent just like Talos. Your lips move silently.

When the final word is whispered, you breathe deep, and drop your hands at your sides. Glancing up, you stare at Talos’ face, admiring the craftsmanship of the sculptor’s work. It is then that you notice a change in the air.

A disturbance.

A subtle shift.

It is not the direction of the wind. It is an old sense. Ancient. Prey noticing predator.

You’re being watched.

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” you say, glancing over your shoulder toward the small graveyard.

Brynjolf leans against one of the gravestones.

Even with his hood up and cowl in place, you know the shape of him. You know his body language, and the casualness that comes with it. He’s so relaxed in his leather armor. You remember when he first put that armor on. He wasn’t nearly as muscular then but that was many years ago, and now it fits him like a snug glove. Amongst the public eye, Brynjolf forgoes the armor for more luxurious fare, pretending to be something he isn’t.

But he never hides who he truly is with you.

Never.

Slowly, Brynjolf pushes off from the gravestone, strolling over with a swagger that brings a bit of heat to your cheeks.

“That’s because you know my habits, lass,” he replies, a tease in his tone that always flips your stomach.

You turn toward him fully, pushing your wanton anxiousness down until your heart is Skyforged Steel. But Brynjolf keeps walking, clearly intending to leave no space between the two of you. You do not budge from your spot, and he comes to a stop just inches away. Like this, he towers over you, invading your space.

“Why have you interrupted my morning prayer?” you ask, using every ounce of willpower not to touch him.

Brynjolf chuckles softly and the sound of it is a hammer against tempered metal. This man is going to break you down. “Is that what you were doing?”

You playfully shove at him, the instinct to touch him too much for your weak control. Brynjolf snags your wrist right out of the air. Using his grip on your arm, Brynjolf tugs you against him, pinning your wrist to him. Your free hand reflexively rises, pressing against one of the leather straps across his chest.

All you can see are his eyes. They shine like emeralds even in the dark.

“You come here almost every morning,” he murmurs.

“I do,” you snap, regaining some composure. “And you also bother me almost every morning.”

“Is that right, lass?” Brynjolf’s thumb rubs over your pulse point. The pressure sends a little shiver through your body. “Do I bother you?” He adds a bit more pressure and you inhale sharply. Brynjolf leans down like he’s about to kiss you, but he doesn’t lower the cowl. “I think you’re lying.”

You are lying. Brynjolf doesn’t bother you. Never has. The two of you are forever linked by an invisible teether.

You avoid the accusation. “Why are you here?”

Just above the lip of the cowl, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkling. He’s finding this exchange incredibly amusing.

“To give you these.” He releases your hand and takes a step back. With your wrist free, you immediately tuck your hands to your sides, his touch still lingering on your skin.

Reaching behind him, Brynjolf tugs on something and then brings it out in front of him. There are stalks of lavender and bundles of different colored flowers that grow in the mountains grasped in his fist. The bouquet is slightly squished and several of the flowers are missing petals.

“You only ever give me flowers when you want something,” you blurt, immediately regretting not thanking him instead.

Brynjolf doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t seem to mind at all that you haven’t shown gratitude.

“You know what I want,” he says softly. He transfers the flowers to one hand, and then reaches up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. It is a gentle gesture, one that pushes you toward sweet memories that seems so distant now.

You shake your head. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

He knows why. The two of you have been playing this game for years.

“My family,” you insist. That is always the excuse, and it’s a poor one, because there is so much more beneath the surface.

Brynjolf sighs but it’s not with annoyance. The two of you do this dance every time. It plays out in the same routine.

“I have contacts in Solitude,” says Brynjolf. “I can have them check on your mother.”

“My mother is fine,” you insist.

Brynjolf shifts slightly on his feet. “Do you even know if she’s alive? When did you last visit?”

You hold your head high. “I receive letters.”

“From your mother? Or your aunt?”

All your stubbornness evaporates. Your mouth turns down in a frown and your face falls. Brynjolf steps into your space again, his voice becoming a caress. “Let me help, lass.”

“I’m fine,” you reply. “Been doing well on my own.”

These last few years have entirely been on your shoulders. You’ve carried the family burden, and a Voice that you’ve kept silent since the deaths of your father and brothers.

“Have you?” Brynjolf’s voice is still gentle. He is not a soft man, but with you, he’s different. Always has been.

“Yes,” you answer, still not looking at him.

“How’s the palace? The Jarl?”

“The Jarl is fine.” You glance up at him and Brynjolf arches an eyebrow. “A good employer,” you insist.

“How much are you earning?”

“Enough.”

Brynjolf grunts, his upper body retreating slightly. He doesn’t believe you, and you don’t blame him. It really isn’t enough, but you’re not going to admit that to him. Brynjolf used to be part of your life, and no matter how much he tries to fit himself back in, you know you’ll only drag him down if you do.

He holds out the flowers to you. “Take them.”

“Give them to Talos.” You nod in the direction of the shrine.

Brynjolf laughs. “They’re for you, lass.” He bends forward a bit, whispering. “And what would the Heir to the Seat of Sundered Kings do with flowers?”

“I offered him flowers.” You indicate the small bowl next to the shrine.

“So you did, lass.” Brynjolf removes a few of the lavender stalks and tosses them into the bowl. “Talos can have those, but the rest are for you.”

Brynjolf holds the bouquet out in front of him. Reaching for them, Brynjolf’s fingers brush against your own. The contact is liquid fire, flooding through your limbs.

“Thank you. They are lovely.”

Yes, they are slightly smashed and wilted, but it is the thought that counts. Brynjolf went out of his way to pick them and bring them to you even if his motivations for doing so are completely selfish ones.

You just—you can’t let him back in, even though you long for it.

Brynjolf’s fingertips lightly graze the underside of your chin. “Turn around, lass. I need to disappear.”

You giggle, giving him your back, clutching the flowers to your chest. You lean in and inhale, eyelids closing slightly in pleasure.

The wind kicks up, and the grass rustles. You exhale and glance over your shoulder.

Brynjolf is gone.

Jarls are some of the messiest people you’ve ever met.

Perhaps it’s because they have a fleet of people constantly waiting on them. They have no reason to care about what they do because an attendant will swoop in and fix it all. Someone else will always clean up the mess.

Right now, you’re staring at chaos.

There are empty bottles of wine and Black-Briar Reserve scattered everywhere. Amongst the bottles are plates, goblets, and platters. The Jarl’s private balcony is trashed, and you’ve been left to clean it all up on your own.

It’s…fine. The quiet will be nice, and the spring air is cool compared to the heat within Mistveil Keep. You’ve been helping in the kitchens all day, and this is the first time you haven’t felt like you’ve been stuffed inside an oven.

Sighing loudly, you start piling up plates and platters. Anything that still held food is long gone, likely sent back to the kitchen to be quietly distributed amongst staff to reduce waste. Sig, one of the kitchen maids, is always taking scraps to the beggars.

Once the plates and platters are removed, you begin to clear the empty bottles and goblets, washing your hands before returning to sweep. With broom in hand, you survey the private patio.

You turn. Glance up. Stifle a scream.

Between the balcony railing and wood awning crouches a man. One hand grasps the edge of the wood awning while the other holds a bouquet of flowers.

“Brynjolf,” you hiss, quickly resting the broom against the table with the intent to approach him. “What are you doing?”

Brynjolf’s hood is up but his cowl is down, showing off the rest of his handsome face.

“Bringing you a gift,” he says simply, as if that is a perfectly logical thing to do at this exact moment.

The worst part about his sudden appearance is his smile. You adore that smile. It is a teasingly soft thing with just the slightest hint of mischievousness.

“Right now?”

He shrugs, slipping to the floor, unfurling to his full height. “Couldn’t wait.”

“By the Nine, Brynjolf,” you exclaim, raising one arm in exasperation. “Sometimes you are just an insufferable—”

Your next words are snatched from your lungs. It only takes Brynjolf two large strides to intrude into your space. You have nowhere to go, and he is right there, both hands grasping your waist.

“No comment about me wanting something, lass?” he asks with a gentle croon.

That sweet sound melts your bones. “The answer is still no,” but even you don’t believe what you say.

Brynjolf murmurs your name, his head dipping.

“We can’t. We live different lives.” At this point you’re simply making excuses.

“You were almost mine once,” he says, voice a whisper.

“We were children.”

“We were young,” he corrects, lightly squeezing your waist. “But we knew what we wanted.”

You did. He did. And then you didn’t. Everything changed and the only thing you had left in the world was your mother who couldn’t even help herself. And there was no one to help you. Not even Brynjolf.

When you don’t answer, Brynjolf rests his forehead against your own. “What can you give me?”

He asks so sweetly, and the old memories are hard to ignore. They bubble up to the surface only to sink into bone and blood, flooding you with the peacefulness you once knew with him.

You’re going to regret these next words.

“You can have a kiss.”

Brynjolf’s hold on your waist tightens. He draws you in, bodies pressed close. One hand slides slowly up your side, stopping at your throat. Brynjolf’s hand is large enough to cradle the bottom half of your cheek.

Everything in you stutters for a moment, and then Brynjolf is right there, hovering as if unsure of this offering. Maybe it is the emotion on your face or his own need moving him to action, because the distance closes and you suddenly realize just how much you missed this.

Brynjolf’s kiss is all tenderness. He doesn’t smash his mouth against yours or use too much tongue. You are lost in this, opening for him, and he takes it.

His hands fall away only to slide to the backs of your thighs. He lifts, and your arms immediately drape around the back of his neck. He brings you to rest on top of the table.

You promised him one kiss, but giving him more won’t hurt. You can give those to him.

Brynjolf’s hands slide to the tops of your thighs and then downward. With an ardent quickness, Brynjolf pushes your skirts and apron up, exposing your bare thighs to the cool air. You don’t even blink because it’s him.

His kisses deepen. Lengthen. His hands are on your bare thighs, caressing. They move up, and then one hand dips between.

His touch upon your sensitive skin makes you gasp, breaking the kiss.

“Oh, lass,” he groans. “You do miss me.”

He presses in and you moan, his mouth coming down to stifle the sound. With one hand on your upper thigh, Brynjolf drags you to the very edge of the table, slotting himself between your legs.

There is a loud clatter followed by a laugh. You both freeze, slowly easing apart but Brynjolf keeps his hand between your thighs.

You wait a beat before you speak. “You need to go.”

Slowly, achingly so, Brynjolf withdraws from your body. Almost absently, he brings that glossy finger up to his mouth. His gaze remains on the door to the Jarl’s chambers as he sucks it clean.

Only then does he turn to face you.

His face is grim like he doesn’t want to leave you out here alone.

“Go,” you insist, squeezing his upper arm. “Before you’re caught.”

That gorgeous grin of his returns in full force. He steals one more kiss before retreating to the railing. He pulls up the cowl, covering his mouth, and swings one leg over the side. He glances back once before sliding off and disappearing into the dark.

Brynjolf does not come to see you the next day or the next.

You’re not sure if somethings happened, but extended absences are not uncommon for him. You know who he is and what he does, but even you aren’t sure of the specifics. That part of his life is closed off. Only those who walk with him in the Thieves Guild completely understand. There are always the rumors you hear from others, but it doesn’t change your perception of him.

But that is not what worries you. Never has. Brynjolf can take care of himself.

It is the Jarl’s son, Harrald, that concerns you. That cretin of a man has a lingering eye, staring for far too long. The man is wholly arrogant, but he’s smart. Harrald never says anything to you in front of his mother or anyone that might report him for his poor behavior.

Instead, he watches, keeping a close eye on your every step.

His stare is like the slime scraped off the sides of ships. Nasty business, and you don’t want any part in it.

But just as Harrald has a wandering eye, he has wandering hands.

It is why you’re pacing, why you are out in the middle of the night on a walk to clear your head. You stick to the outer wall on the eastern side near Talos’ shrine, walking in one direction and then the other. Pacing and thinking and worrying.

How do you approach this issue? And who can you tell? Who would believe you?

“Need some company?”

You yelp, and whirl around, only for Brynjolf to melt from the shadows.

He chuckles softly. “Didn’t mean to scare ya, lass.” He starts walking in your direction. “But—” Brynjolf freezes. Pauses.

His gaze roams over you before his legs find the will to move again. “What’s wrong?”

Do you look that bad?

You start to reach up toward your hair, but Brynjolf is grasping your hands, bringing them to chest-level, inspecting them. “You’re shaking.”

Is that what this feeling is?

“I’m fine,” you say, but it sounds of drowning.

“You’re not.” Brynjolf’s tone is firm. You’re upset and he wants to fix it.

“It’s nothing,” you whisper.

“Did someone hurt you?” You shake your head. “Say something?”

“No, Bryn.” The little pet name rolls off your tongue uninvited.

Either he doesn’t notice or he doesn’t say anything because Brynjolf continues.

“But you are not fine.” He cups your cheek. “Your face is puffy. And your eyes are red.” He gently squeezes the hand he’s holding. “Your hands are cold. Talk to me.”

You sniffle, only realizing then how stuffy you sound. “I’m probably imagining things. Making a big deal out of nothing.”

“I don’t believe that.” Brynjolf’s words are a comfort. They slide over and around you. If anyone in Riften will believe you, it’s him.

“It’s the Jarl’s son. He—” You pause when you notice the deep frown on Brynjolf’s face.

“Go on,” he prompts.

“He—he touched me. At dinner. Maybe?”

“Touched you?”

You start to draw back, regretting saying anything at all. “It was probably an accident.”

“Which son?” he growls. The anger in his voice surprises you.

“Harrald.”

Brynjolf’s frown deepens. “No. It wasn’t an accident. Not with him.”

“Bryn. What should I do?” This job is the only thing keeping you afloat. You need this.

The muscles in his jaw tenses. “Steer clear of him if you can. Make sure you’re never alone with him.” He places his hands on your shoulders. “Is there someone there you can trust? Someone who will listen?”

“I think so.”

Anuriel would listen. She might be the Jarl’s steward, but she has a good heart and looks after everyone.

Brynjolf’s hands cradle the sides of your face. “If he touches you again, say something. Understood?”

You nod.

“Good girl.” He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll walk you back.”

“In that?” you laugh, indicating his Thieves Guild armor with a nod of your head.

“From the shadows, lass,” he teases.

“Finally. Didn’t think I’d ever have a moment alone with you.”

The familiar, arrogantly slimy voice sticks to the insides of your ears. You are in the market. You are not alone. And yet Harrald is right there, standing far too close, grinning widely.

You swallow, the salvia in your throat momentarily sticking. “How can I help you?”

Harrald’s grin widens, and he leans in. You immediately lean back. He makes no indication that your retreat bothers him.

“You’ve been making eyes at me.”

I haven’t you rodent.

“I’m sorry. You’re mistaken.”

He laughs. “I’m not.”

You quickly glance around but no one is paying the two of you any mind. “Apologies, sir. But I—”

Harrald shrugs and then waves his hand dismissively. “Hard to get is fine. I’m up for a chase.”

“That’s not—”

“I’ll play.”

“My lord, that is not—”

His voice lowers and some of his smile recedes. “Pretty thing like you needs a bit of taming.”

A shadow falls over Harrald’s face. You sense a presence to your left just behind your shoulder. The fading smile on Harrald’s face evaporates. In its place is a deep frown.

“You’re interrupting,” spits Harrald, head turning in the direction of the intruder.

“She said she isn’t interested.”

Brynjolf. Thank the Nine.

Harrald stands stall, puffing out his chest. It does little for him. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes,” says Brynjolf flatly. He steps around you, inserting himself between Harrald’s red face and your body.

“I could have you locked up for this!”

“We both have connections,” replies Brynjolf casually. He leans and lowers his voice. “Mine just go a bit deeper.”

Harrald’s reddened face loses all color. He begins to blubber, mouth opening and closing like a fish on a hook. Brynjolf takes a deliberate step forward, completely cutting off Harrald’s connection to you.

The paleness is replaced by redness again.

“You—” begins Harrald, his lip curling. He glances around, and this time there is an audience.

Harrald inhales sharply and turns on his heel, storming back toward Mistveil Keep, shoving a guardsman out of the way as he ascends the steps. Brynjolf doesn’t address you until Harrald has disappeared.

But Brynjolf does not speak. He simply inclines his head in your direction before moving back to his stall. The chatter of the market resumes, and you go about your business.

Harrald leaves you alone the rest of the day, but you remain on edge. The tension sticks around until bed, keeping you awake and alert as if Harrald will appear at any moment.

Sleep eventually comes but you hardly notice when you drift off. But your body knows routine, and you awaken at the time you usually do for morning prayer.

The ground is covered in a low mist and the grass is dew-laced. Head hurting from lack of sleep, you stumble through your routine. And when the air stirs, your alertness sharpens, the thread of excitement rushing through your limbs.

You turn, expecting to find Brynjolf.

You do not find him.

Instead, you find two men. Both are tall. One is thin and lanky with greasy yellow hair. The other is burly and balding with his face all scarred.

The burly man grins, showing missing teeth.

You don’t even see or feel the blow.

It’s just their faces. And then darkness.

“What are we supposed to do with her?”

“He said rough her up a bit. Just avoid the face. He likes that.”

You stare at the grimy stone wall. With the lack of light, you can’t tell if the stone is scorched or simply weathered. Distantly you hear dripping, and faint rattling as if something moves behind the stone. If something does, you don’t want to know.

When you breathe in, a dampness clings to the air, sticking to the insides of your lungs. It’s not exactly foul-smelling wherever you are, but it certainly isn’t pleasant. You are underground, that much you know, and there is only one place in Riften that is entirely beneath the earth.

“She awake?” comes a nasally voice. It’s the one that mentioned he wants you “roughed up.”

“I don’t know.” This is the first voice. It is low and droll.

You’re in the Ratway. You’re certain of it. But where, exactly? The place is large. It is easy to lose yourself in the maze of tunnels.

“Well find out.”

You stay perfectly still as one of the men approaches.

“She ain’t moving.”

Beside you, part of the wall crumbles outward. Slowly, you reach out, fingers finding a solid chunk. Within you, there is a Voice, but you haven’t used it in years, and the power you once wielded is a distant memory.

That is tucked away. You’re not even sure if you remember how to use it or if you might do more harm than good.

“Give her a kick.”

Grip tightening on the broken stone, you turn over and hurl it. The chunky rock nearly collides with the burly, balding man. They both start, faces awash with surprise before anger crosses their faces.

The greasy, yellow haired man’s mouth forms a snarl. He approaches quickly, fists raised. “You—”

But the blow never comes.

His head is there and then it’s not.

It is at your feet. The eyes looking upward, and the mouth shaped into an exaggerated “o.”

The one with his head still on stands there, glancing down at his friend’s unattached head. There is a beat of silence. A pause as his gaze turns to you.

Before either of you can speak or move, a thin blade bursts through the man’s neck.

His eyes go wide, hands reaching up in disbelief. His mouth opens, gasping for air he cannot inhale. The blade slides out. Disappears.

The bloody gurgling increases in volume as he falls face-first into the ground. It tapers off as you push yourself against the gently curving wall. You glance up from the black pool quickly forming beneath him.

In the shadows, something moves in the dark.

You reach for another stone, ready to throw the thing. The moving shadow emerges, and you promptly drop it.

“Brynjolf,” you breathe.

“Lass.” He reaches for you, and you throw yourself into his arms.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, hands roaming as he inspects you.

You take stalk of yourself. Nothing hurts expect a faint throb at the side of your head. “I think I’m all right.”

Brynjolf wraps his arms around you, and you melt into him, clinging so tight the buckles across his chest dig against your skin.

“Take me away from here, Bryn.”

“You can’t expect me to stay here.”

When you told Brynjolf to take you away, you meant above ground, not to Thieves Guild headquarters.

A Guild member strolls by and Brynjolf grabs your arm, pulling you further into the dark. “Mercer isn’t all that inclined in letting you go.”

The two of you stand nearly toe-to-toe in one of the alcoves surrounding the cistern. It’s not well-lit, and your voices are hushed, but this is a conversation between the two of you. No one else needs to take part.

“Why?” you hiss, already knowing.

“He thinks you’ll compromise us,” replies Brynjolf calmly, but you hear the subtle tension. Even he doesn’t entirely believe what he’s saying.

“Everyone already knows the Thieves Guild operates out of the Ratway,” you insist. “They already know you’re down here. How will I change anything?”

Brynjolf glances over your shoulder and you follow his gaze. Mercer Frey stands in the middle of the cistern with two others. One is a woman with white hair and a permanent scowl. The other is a man who keeps glancing at the scowling woman with a soft smirk.

Brynjolf sighs, his head dipping slightly. “Yes, lass. But where? They don’t know and they don’t dare come looking. Not with Maven in their way.”

You scoff. “And you trust her?”

“As long as money is involved.”

You shake your head and look away to a spot over his shoulder. Discovery of where the Thieves Guild is located isn’t the point. Mercer intends to trap you here. Either you stay down here with all of them, or potentially put your life at risk.

Brynjolf lowers his voice. “Mercer won’t harm you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Because it’s true. Brynjolf would intercede if it came to that. The issue is with not being allowed to go.

“I’m not a prisoner,” you finish, returning your gaze to Brynjolf’s face.

“You aren’t.”

“But I can’t go.”

Brynjolf laughs softly and it’s a lovely sound. “You want to run from me that badly?” he teases.

“Be serious,” you hiss.

“I am,” his tone shifting. Brynjolf moves closer, shielding you from the cistern. “You keep running and it has gotten you nowhere.”

“Don’t,” you begin but Brynjolf isn’t having it.

He leans in, placing both hands against the stone wall behind you. You’re trapped. Pinned. Wherever you look, wherever you turn, it will only be him.

“You’re running from yourself. From your family. From me.”

“Brynjolf,” you warn, but he ignores it.

“You say you don’t want me but we both know that’s a lie.”

You huff and attempt to dip under his arm. He moves with you, keeping you in place. Shooting him a warning look does nothing.

“Listen to me, lass,” he murmurs. “You don’t shy away from my touch. You always give me soft smiles. Kind words. Kisses.” It is then that his gaze drops to your mouth. There is clear appreciation in that look, and it instantly stirs a heat in your core.

“We almost married once.” His tone softens, and then Brynjolf’s gaze returns to your eyes. “It did not happen. But I still consider you my only option.”

You fall into memory, of the times before, of when Brynjolf meant everything to you, and your family was whole. A time when you wielded a Voice so powerful it scared you, but you knew it meant you were destined for greater things.

How quickly things change.

How quickly they fall apart.

“Don’t say that,” you murmur, shaking your head.

“Why? Can I not speak freely with you?”

“Of course you can, Bryn.”

“Then that is how I feel.”

You cross your arms over your chest, retreating slightly. Years have passed and the two of you have not faced this. Is it fate that led you to Riften? You knew Brynjolf was here, but that is because of his involvement with the Thieves Guild. Maybe you should attempt to rekindle what the two of you shared—what you still share.

There is still love there. It does not fester or wither.

It is loud and bold beneath the skin. It simmers. Lingers. Waiting for the two of you to finally find each other again. Every time you see Brynjolf, it warms you all over. You feel safe, and you silently hate it when he leaves.

“If you truly do not want me, say so,” he murmurs. “Plainly and firmly. Tell me there is no chance for the two of us to be together.”

Your gaze settles at his throat. It is the only place you can look. If you look into his eyes, if you see those emerald pools, you will drown in him.

“Bryn.”

“Look me in the eyes when you reject me.”

This makes you start, gaze snapping to attention, finding those green gems you’d know anywhere. And you are lost. Completely. You stare at him, the tension increasing until it’s a knife through the heart.

You drop your gaze. Shake your head. “That isn’t fair.”

It’s not a rejection and Brynjolf’s sigh of relief is palpable. It would be unfair to say you don’t love or want him. Because you do. You’re just—

Scared.

Brynjolf leans against the wall with one arm, dropping the other. Using that leverage, he creates an intimate space, faces close enough to come together but not meeting.

“Everything you need will be provided for if that is what you worry about. I promise you,” says Brynjolf. Casually, the backs of his knuckles brush against your upper arm. “Money will be sent to your mother. I’ve already been looking after her care.”

You blink, startled. “What do you mean?”

Brynjolf shrugs. “You think your measly earnings for the Jarl are enough?”

Your mouth opens and then closes, your mind trying to process this information. “How long has this been going on?”

Brynjolf remains quiet.

“Tell me,” you insist, lightly beating your fist against his chest.

“I’ve been sending money for many seasons.”

“Since when?”

“You know,” he says simply.

The whole reason you broke it off with Brynjolf all those years ago was because of your mother’s health and the death of your father and brothers. All that income disappeared, and you were the only person available to keep you and your mother afloat. Maybe if you had married Brynjolf, money wouldn’t have been an issue, but you didn’t want to drag him down with you. The threat of the streets was constant, and all your hopes for the future suddenly vanished.

And he’s been sending money all this time?

“You didn’t have to. Brynjolf—you shouldn’t—”

Brynjolf starts shaking his head. He pushes off from the wall, face stern. He glances back at the cistern and then returns his gaze to you. “Come with me.”

Brynjolf grabs your upper arm and pulls you away from the wall. A small part of you tells you to stick your heels in and resist because it’s all you know. But you allow him to guide you away into what must be some sort of training room.

“You didn’t need to send anything. I have it handled.”

Brynjolf has his back to you, hands on his hips. He sighs audibly and speaks. “I wanted to. Want to.”

“Bryn.”

He turns, one hand up to ask for silence. “We were to be married.” He drops it, that hand forming a fist at his side. “That didn’t just disappear for me.”

You can’t fault him for caring. It was you that severed the connection, who walked away from a good man that loved you beyond care for himself. Even now, he looks after what’s left of your family.

“Do you remember how happy we were?” he asks.

“All the time,” you reply, voice cracking slightly.

Brynjolf moves toward you, and without thought, you extend your hand to him. He takes it, pulling you into his arms, inhaling deeply of your scent.

“I’d choose you every time,” he says, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I’d bring you a priestess of Mara. Bind ourselves to each other. Give you anything you ask for.”

Brynjolf pulls back enough to change his position. With one hand, he cups your cheek, and draws you in. “You’ll never have to work.” He hesitates, then closes the distance. The kiss he offers is sweet. Gentle. “Never worry.” Another kiss, this one tinged with a spark of fire. “I would provide.” This next kiss is deep, all need and passion. You open for him and Brynjolf groans into your mouth.

When the two of you break apart for air, his thumb begins caressing your cheek. “You know I speak truly.”

“What would I do here?”

“Whatever you want,” shrugs Brynjolf. “Could even teach you our ways.”

“I’m not becoming a member.”

Brynjolf’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it. “If you marry me, you do by default.” He lowers his voice. “And you know where we live.”

“Is this your way of forcing my hand?”

Brynjolf laughs. “If I was going to force you, lass, I’d have done it already.”

It’s true. Brynjolf has had years to make you his without your input. But he has always given you space. Given you time. And you do love him. You do long for the times the two of you shared together before you pulled away.

Perhaps it is time to accept, to know that his support is there and so deeply wanted on your part.

“You’ll fetch a priestess of Mara?” you ask softly.

“Right now,” he answers immediately. “If that is what you wish.”

You see the hope in his eyes, feel the anticipation in his muscles. All these years, and still you are so enamored with him, and he with you.

“You did ruin my job with the Jarl.”

“Me?” he laughs, pulling you tighter into his arms. The two of you stay like this, just embracing.

After a long moment, he finally speaks. “Is this a yes, lass?”

You take a deep breath and snuggle closer into him. “It’s a yes.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @miss-mistinguett @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @ninman82

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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

Cruel Trick of Fate - Xenk Yendar Imagine [Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves]

Title: Cruel Fate

Pairing: Xenk Yendar X Reader

Word Count: 1,508 words

Warning(s): self-image issues (i think that's a good way to describe it), mention of attack

Summary: Xenk saves the life of a person in need. (Y/n)'s time spent healing brings the duo exceptionally closer than either of them considered to be possible.

Author's Note: I don't know if I'm surprised that this is happening or not.

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

My story truly begins when I woke up in what I assumed was a cave.

I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten there. And once I blinked the sleep from my eyes, I realized those facts and shoved myself out of the bed.

I scrambled, doing a circle in the hopes of getting some kind of hold on my surroundings. It didn't do much.

I reached over blindly, grabbing a stick of some kind that I could use as a makeshift weapon.

"You shouldn't be moving around."

I jumped when I heard a voice. I held out my arms, trying to look more threatening to the man than I actually was.

"You hit your head," he said. "You should sit down before your head begins to hurt again."

"Who are you and where am I," I asked. "And why did you bring me here?"

"My name is Xenk Yendar, this is my home, and you were attacked," he answered simply.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "That didn't actually answer my final question."

"Your head was hurt," he repeated. "By the creature that attacked you. Do you not remember?"

"Head injuries can impact memory," I replied. "Shocking, I know."

"I do not find that shocking at all," his eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

"I was being- it wasn't- why am I explaining the concept of language to you," I scolded myself more than I truly spoke to him. "Let me go."

"I cannot do that in good conscience," he shook his head. "How are you feeling?"

"I- I'm fine," I blinked a few times when a spiking pain shot through my head, finding a place in my temple to continuously remind me of its presence. "I want to go home."

"If I allow you to do that and you end up even more hurt on the trip, then I would never be able to forgive myself."

"Then you can guide me, how's... how's that?"

I must've swayed a bit when I spoke.

Xenk stepped forward, only stopping when I shakily pointed the stick at him.

"You are threatening me with a stick and are clearly weak, please sit down," he pleaded.

I closed my eyes, my face scrunching up a bit as I did so. I felt him pull the stick from my hands before guiding me to sit back down on the bed.

"I will be right back."

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, not acknowledging his comment.

At the time, I decided that the entire event was decided by some cruel act of fate.

It felt like I spent ages with Xenk.

At first, I was angry. Dismissive. I made my discomfort very well known. The more that I looked back on that time, the more stunned I am that Xenk never told me to leave. He refused to give up on me until I was fully healed.

I did eventually begin to calm down. Anger and annoyance became something close to indifference. It was all much calmer. We would eat together, conversations were less awkward, and my constant need to fight or run seemed to dissipate.

When that indifference changed, I wanted to refuse that it happened.

It felt strange to think that such a change had happened. Ridiculous.

It was so much easier for me to ignore it happened at all.

And then, Xenk came back with a wound on his arm.

I furrowed my eyebrows as he walked in.

"Are you alright," I asked.

He nodded. "Just need to take care of this."

I watched him for a while as he cleaned his wound and attempted to take care of it. It didn't seem like a very intense wound, but it did seem a bit difficult for him to take care of.

It took me far too long to finally step in.

"Alright, stop," I walked over and swatted his hand away. "I may go mad watching your stubbornness."

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "How would my supposed stubbornness cause you to lose- you were figurative!"

"Yes," I nodded as I moved his arm. He hissed a bit. "Does that hurt?"

"Not at all," he replied, voice slightly strained.

I rolled my eyes before walking around him and sitting behind him on the mattress. He was able to lower his arm and I was still able to properly take care of his wound.

I remained quiet as I wrapped his arm. I was the youngest in my family. My experience with tending to wounds was minuscule. But I could do some of the bare minimum.

"How is that," I asked quietly after pulling my hands away.

"Better than I could have done on my own," he mumbled.

It was then that I noticed how... strange the moment felt. We were so close and it all felt so... intimate.

We fell silent again. We both seemed fixated on watching each other's eyes. As if we were attempting to read each other's minds before either one of us made a mistake.

I nodded somewhat awkwardly before going to stand from my spot. "I... I think I am going to make us both some tea. I know that it won't heal you, but it certainly couldn't hurt."

I went to walk away, but his good hand stopped me, catching my wrist before I could get too far away from him. I stopped, turning back to him.

"What is it," I asked quietly.

He blinked a few times as if suddenly realizing what he had actually done. "I... I'm afraid that I don't truly know. I'm sorry."

He let go of my wrist, still stunned by himself.

I paused for a moment. After contemplating my choices, I stepped closer to him. He looked up at me.

My eyes moved up to his forehead. I don't know why. I think holding eye contact with him was simply too intense. I heard him sigh as my eyes moved. He must have assumed that I was staring at the mark decorating his skin and not just trying to cope with my own emotions.

"That is why it has taken you so long to fully trust me," he muttered.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What?"

"The symbol of Szass Tam," he explained, looking away from me. "Some part of me will always be lost to it. I am closer to a monster than not... it is why you were so hesitant to trust me."

"No," I shook my head. "No, no, Xenk. That is not true."

He looked at me again.

"I didn't trust you because I was hurt and found myself in a strange place with a person that I had never met before," I corrected. "It was a very understandable reaction. But once I got to know you, I trusted you more. I cannot think of a single moment that the symbol on your forehead was what determined how I felt about you.

"You are also far from any kind of monster. You are a hero. You have saved many people, you protected me when you didn't even know my name, you have vowed yourself to a life helping others. I don't know a monster that would ever do such a thing."

Xenk seemed to scan every inch of my face, waiting for some sign that I was being dishonest. I reached up, gently running my thumb over the mark on his forehead. He took a deep breath, eyes falling shut as I did.

"Silly thing, really," I muttered. "I didn't even notice it when we first met. Did you know that?"

"Really?"

I nodded. "I was a little too focused on other things... like figuring out what had happened."

"When did you notice it," he asked.

"We were having dinner. That first night," I said. "I was refusing to eat until you did, so I had nothing to focus on other than you. That's when I started making out the symbol. I just... I couldn't bring myself to care about it."

"Why?"

"Don't know," I shrugged. "Instinct... fate?"

"I do not understand why fate would prevent you from caring."

"Maybe fate didn't want me to leave," I replied. "If I cared about the mark, then I would have."

"And why would fate not want you to leave?"

I could see something cross his face. Some small, knowing look. I bit back a growing smile at the idea. There was this air of safety and comfort. Security in whatever choice I made next.

I took a deep breath before leaning down and gently pressing my lips to his. I felt the hand of his uninjured arm reach up and touch the hand not resting on his face.

It was only a few moments before I pulled away. I slowly grinned at him. He smiled back at me.

"I'm glad that fate kept you from leaving," he muttered.

I chuckled. "So am I."

I leaned forward and kissed him again.

Quite a cruel trick that fate decided to play, wasn't it?

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

Author's Note: I just wanna brag about the fact that I managed to guess where this movie was filmed while I was watching it with a friend. It was the coolest thing I've done in a long time.

Also, that I kept making comparisons between this movie and Ella Enchanted, but that's not really as cool.

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

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#fanfiction #imagine #x reader #dungeons and dragons imagine #dungeon and dragons fanfiction #dungeons and dragons x reader #dnd imagine #dnd fanfiction #dnd x reader #xenk yendar imagine #xenk yendar fanfiction #xenk yendar x reader #honor among thieves imagine #honor among thieves fanfiction #honor among thieves x reader #dungeons and dragons: honor among thieves imagine #dungeons and dragons: honor among thieves fanfiction #dungeons and dragons: honor among thieves x reader

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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

Text

Title: '23 Bonnie & Clyde {One Shot}***

Title: 23 Bonnie & Clyde ***

Den Of Thieves Ray Merrimen x OFC Aria

Warnings: Action, Blood, Violence, Heavy Cursing, 18+ Mature Content, Gun Violence, Crime, Angst, Smut, Rough Sexual Activity, Glove Free Lovin, Plenty of Words

Words: 15,575k

Summary: Picks up with Ray being pinned down by Nick and his team after the heist. With his team dead and 2 bullets making it hard to go on, Ray believes his ticket’s been punched. Unexpectedly, an angel swoops in to save the day. However, is she an angel of mercy or heartbreak?

Note: @waterfallsandsunsets As my first accepted commissioned fic, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope it meets your expectations. I want to thank you for requesting this and even more for wanting to pay for a story from me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Note II: Ray Merrimen and Pablo girlies I hope you enjoy this.

***Very Loosely Edited***

~~~~~~~~~~

-Ray-

Around him, he could hear the echoing of the heavy gunfire he was currently in the middle of. It sounded like he was in a hollowed tunnel making it easy to hear every sound. The crunching of footsteps that were attempting to stealthily creep toward him, failing miserably by his military training standards, the zing, and whizz of every missed bullet, the painful beat of his heart that was slowing with every minute.

A strong pang of pain gripped him making him curse out. He clapped his hand over his chest and grimaced. He didn't know how he would make it out of this one. All his life he'd lived by the gun and knew he'd die by it too but somehow he didn't expect it now. He thought he'd be old and grey before that bullet with his name on it punched his ticket.

He slid his hand lower just underneath his heart and felt wetness there. When he raised his fingers to his face the crimson liquid that coated his fingers confirmed it. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he dropped his head back to look into the sky. It was yet another beautiful California day. He knew it was a hot one but couldn’t quite feel the warmth of the sun anymore. A shiver rushed through him then he heard his name.

“Merrimen, it doesn’t have to be like this. You’ve got nowhere to go. Come out with your hands up!”

He scoffed. That son of a bitch, he thought. If he really expected him to come out and surrender he hadn’t read his file properly.

“Never surrender,” he mumbled feeling the drowsiness trying to overtake him.

Shaking it off, he wiped his hands dry then gripped his weapon. Checking the chamber, he realized his clip was empty. With slow, painful movement he dug into his vest searching for his ammo but found none.

“Sh—shit!”

He was truly fucked. Either he was going to be cuffed and saved at the hospital then sent back or he would die a free man, right here, right now. It only took him a few moments to make his mind up. He meant every word he’d said a week ago. He was never going back to prison. He took several breaths trying to psych himself up for the next round of pain he would feel. No man wanted to face death but he’d long prepared for his death. He didn’t fear it.

Suddenly, her face popped into his mind making him freeze. He’d often thought of her. Every night her face somehow wandered in through the slips of his mental blocks, the ones he’d purposely put up in heavy efforts to not think about her. In those wee hours of the morning, while he laid in his bunk surrounded by other men in their 9 by 5 cells doing the same, he’d think about her. Since his release from prison, he’d thought of her more and more as people, places and things often brought back memories, good and bad.

He heard the thud of footsteps creeping up on his right and they brought him back to reality. Pretty soon he’d stop thinking about her completely. Maybe in death, he could finally get peace.

“Nut up!”

He rose to his feet then turned to where he knew that Detective Nick was waiting. He came face to face with the man aiming his weapon right at him.

“Don’t do it Merrimen!”

He waited.

“We can end this peacefully. It doesn’t have to end this way.”

His vision blurred and his heartbeat slowed. “I told you—I’m not going back.”

The man across the way clenched his jaw and he almost saw a look of disappointment across his features, but he didn’t wait. He raised his empty gun knowing he’d take the shot, truly ending this.

“Don’t!”

Suddenly, rapid gunfire rained around him sending the man jumping to seek cover while he dropped back. Chaos reigned around him in the form of three white vans rolling up creating a “U” shape shield around him. His mind recognized it as an operational defensive tactic, one he’d done in his years of service. Again, his eyes went blurry as his heart slowed. Gripping his chest, he focused on the sky trying to get himself in control so he could make sense of the situation and defend himself if needed.

“Secure the perimeter. We’re out of here in one minute!”

The voice was garbled like he was underwater, and they were above it. He grabbed his gun and pointed it forward making contact with a chest. The figure above him was masked with only their eyes revealed.

“I got you. ‘Till the end imma ride wit’ you.”

Recognition flamed in his head. He’d heard those words before. He’d said those words before. Only one other person in the world would ever utter them. He froze but before he could move again, he lost consciousness with those eyes being the last thing he saw.

~~~~~~~~

-Aria-

“What a fucking mess!”

Milla was pissed. One thing she hated was a sloppy op and what Ray had found himself in the middle of was a sloppy op.

“From the stories about this guy never thought he’d be part of something like this.”

“Shit went sideways,” Jada replied.

“Hey! Fucking focus on getting us the fuck out of LA and to the fucking jet!”

If Milla was pissed, you were downright seething. She was right, it was a sloppy op and shit had gone sideways. Fuck they went way past sideways. You made a mental note that you’d find Donnie’s ass and put two bullets through his skull for this bullshit.

“Apply more pressure!”

You, Uki, Keturah, and Lyn were each pressing on each bullet wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. Your efforts seemed pointless as his blood poured out of him like a calcified showerhead.

It was a good thing you got there when you had. As you pushed harder on his chest, you stared into his face. You didn’t know how it was possible, but he looked the same given some wrinkles here and there. His face was the same but weathered, aged to that of a grown man. Your heart beat painfully thinking of how serious his condition currently was.

“Aria, I don’t know if he’ll make it,” Uki announced.

Your eyes snapped to her and in the same second that they made contact, she looked down.

“I’m just saying. His vitals are not good,” you mumbled not wanting to be the bearer of bad news.

“He’ll make it!”

The entire van went quiet. You hadn’t meant to scream at her, so you took a breath and looked back to Ray, and repeated your words in a calmer voice.

“He’ll make it. He’s lived through worse.”

The remainder of the drive passed in near silence. Except for updates from the other vans and checking in to confirm perfect execution of your plan and distraction no one else said anything that wasn’t mission specific. You split your focus between the next steps of the plan and keeping Ray alive. You’d estimated that the drive to the airfield would take 40 minutes and in those 40 minutes, he’d flatlined twice. You were glad that you were the type of person to bet on things going wrong. It was that foresight that found a mini hospital in every van.

With Uki’s help, you managed to bring Ray back every time he flat-lined with the aid of adrenaline and a defibrillator. Each time took longer but you refused to give up. It wasn’t his time; you’d make damn sure of it.

“Offload,” Keturah shouted as the van rolled to a stop.

Everyone sprang into action, tackling their tasks. Milla and Keturah handled stripping the van, and Lyn took care of erasing every bit of artillery so there would be not even a serial number left on anything left behind. You, Jada, and Uki lifted Ray to the waiting jet.

“Fuck he’s heavy!”

He sure was and from the looks of him, it was pure muscle. Prison had changed him. The two men in the jet hurried to help load him in.

“Let’s go. 40 seconds!”

Just then, the van went up in flames. As if that was the signal, all your femme fetales assembled and boarded the jet. Within a minute you were taking off. As the jet gained altitude the van on the ground exploded leaving flames, shards, and nothing else in your wake.

~~~~~~~

-That Night-

All was quiet, which was what you expected. This was your compound in Mexico, and it was heavily guarded. Only those who needed to know knew about it. You watched as the doctor finished his examination of your hurried work in the van and the jet. You’d had more than enough experience patching yourself and others up to know your work was sufficient, but you wanted to make sure you got all the shards out. You didn’t go through all this to have a bullet fragment sneak to his heart.

You sat on the window seat then continued tapping your combat boot-clad feet. The sound echoed in the room as dull thuds for several minutes before you sprang to your feet again to pace the room some more.

“You’ve never been anxious like this with anyone else,” Manolo said his voice filled with certainty. “Losing faith in my skill?”

“No. He’s just--not—anyone.”

He looked back at you and studied your face for a few moments then turned back to a still unconscious Ray. Manolo nodded then stood.

“Well, I think you turned a pretty horrible situation into a bad one, which is an improvement and impressive.”

“Will he make it?”

Manolo sighed and took his time before he spoke. The seconds that stretched only made you more anxious. You were milliseconds away from snapping at the man, but his voice stopped your outburst.

“It’s hard to say. His injuries are extensive. From what I can see you’ve got all the bullets and I don’t see any fragments so that’s good news, but I’ve seen men die from injuries less severe than these. It’s a miracle he is still alive.”

“What—what does that mean Manolo?!”

Your frustrations were getting the better of you now.

“I know you want a guarantee, but I can’t give one. If he—if he can make it the next 72 hours then I say his chances are very good but--.”

He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His grey-speckled hair was coiffed in an effortless style that framed his face and showcased the wrinkles he'd acquired from years of work and little sleep. He and your father were good friends and one on the very short list of people he trusted, which meant you trusted him too.

“The next 72 hours I expect to be touch and go.”

You sighed and then looked at Ray. It wasn’t a death sentence, but it wasn’t a glowing bill of health. There was hope at least.

“Thank you, Manolo,”

He nodded then looked back to Ray. “I will stay close tonight in case you need me again.”

You nodded and watched him pack his things up to then exit the room. For the first time since you'd laid eyes on him, you were alone together. Half of you was relieved he was unconscious so you didn't have to talk but the other half wanted more than anything for him to wake up even if it spelled trouble for you.

You stood across the room for so long that the bottoms of your feet burned. It had been a long day and even longer 48 hours in prep for his extraction. Your body was exhausted, but sleep wasn’t an option. There was no way you could sleep now. Slowly you walked to his bedside never taking your eyes off of his face. you trailed over every detail of his face. Every wrinkle, every mole, every hair, everything that you’d missed out on. Your body buzzed to get closer, palms itched to touch him. The urges were so powerful that the exhaustion in your body was so strong that you gave in.

Sitting at the edge of the bed you slowly reached your hand to his full beard however when you were centimeters from touching him your hand stopped. Fear stilled your actions dousing whatever urges you had moments before. Looking lower at his torso, you decided to clean him instead of putting yourself in a position where things would quickly escalate.

As you wiped away the dried blood and sweat from his body your mind drifted to admiring what you now confirmed without a doubt was heaviness from muscle. For the love of everything holy, he was built like all he did in prison for those 10 years was pump iron. You tried not to think of the pictures you’d gotten over the last week of him disappearing into the blonde dancer’s house time and time again. You tried not to think of the things that happened behind that door that your cameras couldn’t get into.

Though you tried to keep the thoughts at bay, when you got to his “Peckerwood” tattoo you couldn’t help but drift to how she touched him, how he found solace after 10 years without in her body.

“Fuck!”

You threw the rag down into the water ignoring how it cascaded over the rim and onto the wooden floors. You stood, wiped your hands, and took a safer seat, across the room where your view of his body wasn’t clear.

Knock-knock

“Come.”

In walked a cleaned-up Uki with a tray. She placed it on the table near your chair then stood there watching Ray just as you were.

“Manolo told us.”

You nodded.

“I can take first watch so you can get cleaned up,” she offered.

You didn’t answer. In truth, you barely heard her.

Knock-knock.

“Come.”

Jada and Lyn came in next and stood to your left adding their two pairs of eyes to Ray.

“Found you some clothes,” Jada breached.

“Team 2 and 3 made it home without any problems after initiating endgame. Right about now they should have an ID on the body from the fire and that ID will be a one hundred percent match for 1 Mr. Ray Merrimen,” Lyn informed.

You released a slow breath as the final piece of your plan seamlessly synced with the others laid before it. That was it then.

“Come in Keturah,” you called before the knock you knew was coming sounded.

They all snorted as Keturah walked in and approached the bed getting a good look at Ray.

“Still can’t believe this famous Ray turned out to be a white man oh.”

That was just what everyone needed to hear before they busted out laughing. It went on for so long that you felt the stress that your body had harvested slowly leave you. You looked around at your girls. They’d been with you through thick and thin and you trusted them with your life. They were always there for you, and you were more than grateful.

“He might be a well-seasoned white man,” Lyn added which made them holler with laughter.

You’d expected their teasing once they saw him in person. You’d prepared yourself for all of this. In fact, you were enjoying their teasing. You’d been tense for so long it felt good to breathe for a change. You rotated your head trying to ease your sore muscles.

“You should eat, then shower. I know you’ll hate it if he sees you for the first time looking like you spent 3 nights in a hot hut.”

You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek. “I don’t look that bad.”

“Ya’ look worse,” they all collectively said.

Your jaw dropped but they only laughed more. The six of you sat around the room and chatted as you ate the meal Uki brought in. With each passing minute, you felt more and more like yourself. In the back of your mind, your fears and anxieties were still raging but they were quieted enough that you could celebrate small victories. After, Uki stayed by Ray’s side as you showered and made yourself less of a mess.

With your mind calm that Uki was around, and Manolo was in the house you took the time to pamper yourself a little. The hot water did the job of a pair of well-trained hands and melted away the knots in your shoulders and back while the scents from the diffuser worked on your mood and stress. You’d jumped over one hurdle and there were two more waiting for you, the final one was waiting for you at home.

When you went back into the room Ray was still unconscious and Uki was there on her phone.

“Ah, you look and smell a lot better.”

“Girl shut up!”

“Seriously, you look better.”

You nodded then sighed. “I’m holding up.”

“I just got word from Junu, and he is livid.”

You nodded. It was expected. You knew this whole operation would upset him especially since he’d vehemently forbade it.

“I’ll take the blame and whatever punishment he dishes out. You guys will be safe.”

“While your father terrifies me, I won’t let you be punished alone.”

“You all were just following my orders. I will take the heat.”

Uki studied you then looked back to Ray. “Is he worth it?”

She didn’t just mean the punishment you’d take but the risk and danger. You looked at Ray and slowly approached him. You knew the answer without a shadow of a doubt.

“Till the end!”

Seconds later you heard the click of the door as it closed. You were again alone with him. This time you dragged the chair closer and sat back down hunkering down for a sleepless night.

~~~~~~~~

You awoke to heavy shuddering and grunting. You’d only closed your eyes for a moment, or so you thought. However now, Ray was seizing in the bed, body riddled with violent thrashing.

“Shit, Ray!”

You moved to the edge of the bed and noted the way his body was drenched with sweat. Once you touched him you pulled back, he was burning up.

“Shit!”

You leaped up, grabbed the bowl beside the bed, and sprinted to the bathroom to fill it with cold water. When you returned you wasted no time applying the cold wet cloth to his forehead. When his seizing intensified you hollered for help as you turned him onto his side. With one hand you took up another cloth, dipped it into the water, and placed it in his mouth so he wouldn’t bite down on his tongue. It was then the girls ran into the room in a panic.

“Get Manolo. He’s seizing and has a fever.”

“On it,” Jada shouted before she disappeared.

The others approached the bed and tried to help you keep him on the bed and wipe him down. In what felt like a lifetime Jada returned with Manolo who sprang into action. He took your spot and administered an injection into the IV he’d placed when he first got here.

“This will help the seizure.”

Within minutes Ray’s convulsions slowed until they stopped altogether. Manolo then injected another needle into the IV.

“This will bring down the fever. He’s more than likely fighting off an infection. I already gave him something for that.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing. We wait. I know you hate that answer, but I don’t have a better one. He has to do the work now.”

After thirty minutes of monitoring, Manolo left again satisfied that the seizure did not return. After that, you didn’t dare fall asleep again. Every thirty minutes you wiped his body with cold cloths and bundled him tighter, so he felt some warmth. By the time the sun rose the next day, he hadn’t gotten any better and your stress returned tenfold. He couldn’t be moved in this state, so your flight home was delayed until he made it through the other end of this.

The day passed with each of you sitting with him making sure his fever was kept in check and his seizures were managed. He fared well during the day but when the sun disappeared his seizures returned and persisted for much of the night. By the 2nd night there he’d begun spitting up blood. Manolo was hours away from making the choice to take him to a hospital when the sun rose on the third day and with that new day came calm.

“I think he’s passed the worst of it,” Manolo said as he took his glasses off after his very thorough examination.

“Are you sure?”

“His vitals are much better. Heartrate is not quite normal yet but considering he was close to losing a lung he is doing well.”

“Why hasn’t he woken up yet?”

“Well, I induced a temporary coma to help him heal. I’ve started to wean him off so the medication I put him on should leave his system within the day. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll come to.”

“Will he live Manolo?”

“If this continues and he comes out of this tomorrow I feel good about his chances.”

You rubbed your face pressing just a bit so the tension would go.

“Thank goodness.”

“If all progresses, you should be good to fly the day after tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Manolo.”

“Aria, you’re like family. I’d do anything for you,” he said placing his hand on your shoulder. “You should rest.”

You nodded knowing those were doctor’s orders you wouldn’t be following. Not yet.

~~~~~~~

-The Next Day-

You were sitting by Ray's bedside once again after another sleepless night. Uki's question had been playing over and over in your mind like an annoying one-hit wonder that you couldn't forget. The longer you sat with the question the more it warped. No, your answer hadn't changed but you began to wonder if he would also say the same.

The last 10 years or so couldn't have been easy. No one thrived in prison. The environment wasn't conducive to that. The system needed a change if it was tasked with reforming wrongdoers. You knew being inside chipped away pieces of who you were before going in so you knew he was hardened. What you worried about was; how hardened was he. Was there any bit of the person you'd known? Or was this man laying at death's door a stranger with a monster lurking within

Knock-Knock

“Come.”

You tried to make yourself look like you hadn't been hyper-fixated on watching the man before you all night, tried to look detached and nonchalant.

“You look like shit.”

“For fuck's sake Uki!”

“What? If I looked as bad as you, one of you better keep it real and tell me the same,” she replied as she put down another tray.

“Guess you're expecting a thank you for telling me I look like shit?”

Uki shrugged and crossed her arms as she took her place beside you.

“Fuck thank you. Just tell me you know and I'm right. That's my love language,” she joked.

However, it wasn't a joke. She did love being right. She got off on it. She constantly wore a smug look across her beautiful flawless features. It was as if she always walked with an air about her that she was higher than those around her. To tell the truth, it was one of the reasons you gravitated to one another and formed a quick friendship when you were children.

As The Viper's only daughter and heir, you knew you were above them in rank and status, and while most would relish the fact it always suffocated you. Being at the top of the food chain put you on a whole different playing field and on that field, you always had a target on your back.

“We may have trouble.”

Your head snapped to her waiting for her to continue. Of course you did, it had been way too calm and quiet.

“Razu,” Uki muttered.

Her one-word response didn't need to be followed up with anything else. You sighed so heavily that it almost sounded like the danger declaring hiss of the creature your father got his name from. Everyone knew you didn't disturb vipers; it was a “duh” rule in the animal kingdom. Do not disturb the vipers and never disturb the den. Razu was the one who never quite understood the unspoken rule.

“Where is he?”

“Downstairs with an entitled look on his face. He demands to see you.”

That almost hiss came out and filled the room this time.

“He heard whispers of you going to America and wants to talk about why.��

“Why? Ha, do I answer to him now oh?!”

Uki sighed and shrugged. “Seeing how he is…”

“Finish that sentence and we will have a serious discussion on how much of my coming punishment you will be taking.”

Uki zipped her lips with her fingers and allowed the silence to stretch.

“If he heard whispers then he probably suspects something. Our people in Los Angeles probably tipped him off.”

Your eyes slipped back to Ray. Shit, you thought.

Another near hiss escaped you.

“Yep. Either he is here to confirm his suspicions and try to use it as his proof you are not fit to take over on your own or--.”

“Ipenija is iku,”{challenge to the death},” you finished.

“Yep.”

“Fuck! There is no way Ray can do a challenge right now.”

“No. This white meat would be dead meat,” Uki teased.

“Really Uki? Right now?”

She smiled then shrugged again. She was right though. You had to make sure Razu found nothing. You reached into the bedside drawer and took out your 3 guns then checked the chambers. Locked, loaded, and ready for action. You tucked one in the front waistband of your jeans and the other in the back. You then took up your thigh holster from where it hung on one of the posts of the bed. Rather than bringing along the third gun you left it on the bedside table and patted your arsenal of knives loaded on the contraption. It was time to remind Razu who you were and who he was not.

Before you walked out of the room you looked back at Ray once more then hardened your features and resolve. Once you walked into the large living room of the opulent hacienda-style property you found Razu sitting in the largest seat in the room which was made from a slew of precious materials. One leg was crossed over the other with his ankle resting atop his knee and in his hands he played with a machete.

Your femme fetales assembled behind you in an arrowhead formation, the five of them flanking each other’s left and right. With his tamed beard, dark and smooth skin, and dangerous eyes Razu slowly broke out into a toothy smile.

“Come on Aria. I am not the enemy no need for the famous formation.”

His voice was smooth and silky like a goading predator slinking its way around to find an opening.

“I don't know Razu. You come unannounced--.”

“And unwelcomed,” Keturah added.

Razu's eyes turned to slits as he glared at Keturah.

“I suggest you keep your femmes in line or something fatal will happen to one of the pretty bitches,” Razu said.

You pulled your guns with quickness and closed the space between you to then press one gun to his temple and the other under his chin.

“Say one more fucking word about or to my femmes and the only fatal thing happening is your death by fatality. One hair on any of their heads is worth so much more than your entire existence. So, tread very, very carefully.”

The fire is Razu's eyes blazed uncontrollably. You saw how badly he wanted to speak again and retaliate but the facts were simple. You were your father's daughter. His empire would be yours soon and no matter how badly Razu wanted it he would never get it. Not by challenge, not by infiltration, and definitely not by arranged marriage.

The fire in his eyes faded and a smile spread across his face.

“Easy Aria, I simply came to make sure you were all right. The dens in LA heard you were in town. They said a lot was shaken up and the dens had to close up ranks to stay off the radar.”

You pulled back and walked back to your girls who hadn't moved an inch. They knew you were more than capable of taking care of Razu. Once in place, you spoke.

“Did your spies actually see me in LA or are they spreading false rumors?”

“Rumors? So, you weren't in LA?”

“Are you questioning me Razu? It sounds like you are but I am sure I am wrong because in order to be remotely qualified to do that, you have to be someone higher than me. Right girls?”

They each replied with confirmation. Razu's jaw clenched tightly and you knew just how badly he wanted to lash out. Smiling you watched him struggle. This was fun. It had been a while since you had fun and you realized how much you missed this.

“Why is it always rank with you?”

“Because you forget your fucking place! You are merely a sergeant in this den. One of many. You do not question me, you do not threaten me, and you definitely do not demand of me.”

“Your safety is important,” Razu carefully added.

“My safety? Do I look unsafe?”

You turned to your friends so they could inspect.

“You look safe to me,” Lyn said.

“Sure do,” Jada added

“Picture of health,” Milla chimed in.

You turned back to Razu. “I feel safe so I say you have nothing to worry about.”

Razu stared you down clearly upset this wasn't turning out the way he wanted. When you cocked your head to the side and then nudged it toward the exit Razu grumbled but stood.

“I'll head home and tell The Viper that baby Viper is doing well in Mexico.”

Your father didn't know where you were right now and you knew that Razu still suspected you had gone to the States which meant his reporting your current whereabouts would imply you had in fact been in the States. You kept your face unreadable.

“You do that. You'd just be giving him news he already knew, but whatever.”

You shrugged then examined your nails playing up how unbothered you were. As Razu walked toward the front door he chuckled.

“I'll see you at home, little Viper.”

No one moved until you heard the door close. Before they spoke you walked out of the room across the estate.

“Have them scour that room for bugs. I don't trust Razu.”

Milla nodded and walked off to get it done.

“He has definitely overstepped his bounds,” Lyn said.

“He sure has but he just revealed he has spies within our dens. I am sure my father would love to know that.”

The only great threat to queens were peasants thinking they were smarter. Your father ran a tight ship and usually got rid of those who had the balls to have big ideas. Razu's days were numbered.

“If he is going home now then he will be sure to paint a horrible picture before you arrive. We should leave tonight,” Uki proposed.

She made sense and it was probably the best move. Only 2 things were wrong. Ray was still not out of the woods yet and if you went back in a hurry Razu would know you were afraid of something.

“Have someone watch Razu until he leaves. I want to know if he so much as pisses and it's not yellow.”

You walked away up the stairs while putting the safety back on your guns and repositioning them in the waistband of your jeans. Halfway back to the bedroom where Ray was—your bedroom you had a thought that if you took Razu out here and now When you walked inside he was still lying on the bed which was a relief and disappointment all at once. You were glad Razu hadn't tried to lure you downstairs to have his men search the house, but more worried Ray was still unconscious. You knew the longer he remained so the worse his prognosis.

You pressed your back to the door and took some deep breaths and tried to push the annoyance of Razu out of your head. Every day your list of problems increased. You felt the stinging prickle of tears behind your eyes. They were tears you’d held in for so long, tears you didn’t dare shed, tears you knew would find their way down your cheeks one way or another.

You walked across the room to the side of the bed and peered down at Ray. His bandaged wounds were speckled with bright red blood reminding you how close he’d come to dying. The even rise and fall of his chest said his breathing was evened out and he was probably not in too much danger. You sat at the edge of the bed as the urge to touch him became stronger than ever. You brought your hand closer and closer to the tattoo swooped across his chest. Your eyes locked on the ‘A’ within the ‘KingHarbor’ tattoo and within seconds you could make something else written there.

You leaned closer and closer bringing your face right over his chest and it was then you saw it. Hidden within the ‘A’ was your name. Aria.

“No fucking way,” you whispered.

You turned to the nightstand ready to switch on the lamp for more light but an empty tabletop caught your eye. The cock of the gun and the warm press to your forehead said you’d caught it too late.

“Back—the fuck—up!”

You huffed a breath out half relief half annoyance. Slowly you moved back.

“Who the fuck are you?”

You turned to face him and saw the moment recognition hit him. The stone-cold set of his face turned to wide-eyed disbelief.

“A—Aria?”

“It’s me, Ray.”

Your voice was small. You hadn’t meant for it to be at all, but it was, small and timid. Ray’s expression went from disbelief to blazing fury. You brought your eyes to the gun still pressed to your forehead.

“You’re gonna shoot me with my own gun huh.”

“I can think of a reason or two why I should,” Ray gritted out through clenched jaws.

You could hear the pain in his voice. Sighing, you shook your head. You weren’t afraid of him.

“Put the gun down, Ray.”

“Like hell I will.”

You glared at each other for long moments. You got lost in the amount of hatred you saw in his eyes. He’d never looked at you like this before, never pressed a gun to your head either. You sighed again then used the move he taught you to unarm him. However, he did not let you have your way instead, he grabbed your wrist pulled you to him, and attempted to swivel you so he could put you in a chokehold. Evading the move, you in turn swung your legs over him and sat on his thighs.

“Stop! You’re going to bust your stitches!”

Ray didn’t listen. He still fought you as if he didn’t have three bullet holes in his body.

“Ray!”

He reached for the knives in your thigh holster but you grabbed his arm instead. When he tried to use his other hand to reach for your gun you stopped him. That was when the door banged open and your Femmes rushed in guns and chosen weapons drawn to see you straddling him and holding his wrists. It looked kinky.

“Uh—didn’t waste any time huh,” Milla teased.

Ray yanked his arm away then rammed the heel of his palm into your gut. He hadn’t used all his force, but he’d used enough to send you to the foot of the bed. The action took you by surprise and stole the wind from your lungs. Your femmes cocked and raised their guns and weapons.

“Stand down,” you choked out.

Ray laid there looking at the six of you as if he didn’t trust any of you and was expecting one or all of you to make a move any second.

“Are you okay?”

You raised to your feet then rested your hands over your knee while you tried to catch your breath.

“Fine.”

“You let him catch you off guard?”

You glared at Uki.

“Didn’t expect him to—pull my own gun on me.”

“Where the fuck am I and what the fuck is going on?”

“Thu, what a way to speak to the people who you owe your life to,” Lyn spat.

“What’re you talking about?”

Your eyes fell to the bandages that were speckled red before. Now they were soaked with his blood.

“Shit, you busted the stitches,” you said making a move to him.

Ray lurched back. “Stay away from me!”

“If I do that you’ll bleed out and after everything we did to keep you alive, I’ll be pretty pissed about it.”

He surveilled you then the other five women in the room trying to gauge the level of trust he could muster in this moment.

“If we wanted to kill you, we would have stayed in our country while your so-called heist went all the way to shit,” Jada said.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

You looked at Jada slightly annoyed she brought it up already.

“Later.”

“No, now!”

“The heist went south. Enson, Bosco, they’re all dead,” you carefully broke.

“Wh—what!?”

“Donnie ran a play in your heist. He knew all the players set it up with them and used you guys as the muscle. He set you up to take the heat and fall so he could take the money. Nick knew everything from him. Your life is burned. They shot the others and Nick would have got you too if we hadn’t gotten there in time,” you explained ripping off the rest of the band-aide.

His face was blank as he processed your words then the rage returned.

“Donnie that motherfucker!”

“That he is.”

Silence filled the room and slowly you got closer and closer to him. Once close enough you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Your only option now is to disappear and by disappear I mean dead man disappear,” you finished.

“Why the fuck should I trust you?”

It was a fair question.

“She risked her fucking life to save yours. She did all this for you!”

You looked back to your girls and shook your head hoping to disengage the situation.

“It’s okay guys, wait outside.”

“So he can try something? Like hell,” Jada voiced.

“He has three bullet holes in him. I’m sure I can take him.”

They nodded knowing you could then one by one exit the room. When it was just the two of you, you opened your mouth to speak but Ray beat you to it.

“You should leave too.”

“You’re bleeding. Let me redress those then I’ll go.”

He took a few moments to contemplate your words then nodded. You kept your actions slow and careful as you got closer then took off the soaked bandages. When you wiped at the wounds he barely flinched or made a sound. You could feel his eyes boring into you keeping an eye on every move you made. You knew he didn’t trust you and you understood completely.

With needle and thread in hand, you began stitching him again. Still, Ray remained quiet the whole time he watched you. Whenever you reached for something you felt him tense underneath you even more than when you worked. Was he really that leery of you?

“Where am I?”

“Mexico.”

He scoffed. “Mexico. Is this where you’ve been living it up in a Mexican hacienda?”

“Living it--,” you began but trailed off. Before you spoke again, you scoffed. “No.”

“Right. Is this your place?”

“It—belongs to my father.”

You peeped up and met his eyes and instantly regretted it. His eyes were cold, dead, and filled with anger.

“And those women? Who are they?”

You tied off the thread then reached for the alcohol bottle on the side table.

“This is going to hurt.”

In your other hand, you took up the tequila there and held it out to him.

“No. Go ahead,” Ray said not even trying to hide the distrust in his eyes.

You shrugged and took a chug from the tequila bottle then poured the alcohol. You watched Ray stiffen as the burn rushed through him. The veins in his neck and forehead pulsated just beneath his skin, his face got redder and the muscles all across his torso flexed and bulged giving you a show for the first time how much he'd changed. Before you right now was a very grown man, a very gorgeous grown man, a man you probably didn't know anymore. His groan cane out agonized and tight. Wanting to help you leaned forward and blew onto the freshly stitched and taut skin hoping to provide some relief for him.

You kept your eyes level with his chest and focused on blowing in a way that kept the air coming from you cool. You took up the cloth and dabbed the excess antiseptic from his bruised flesh taking care to be gentle the closer you got to his wounds. You happened to glance up and found his eyes on you. The anger in his eyes was gone as was the right clench of his jaw. He looked as if he were in some sort of trance. You didn't stop blowing but moved for the wound salve waiting to be applied on the table. Slowly, you spread some across each bullet wound. With every touch, Ray sucked in a breath like a startled gasp. You didn't know if it was entirely from the pain he had to have been on or something else.

By the time you taped down a few thick squares of gauze, the door banged open.

“Ah, you're awake. Good,” Manolo exclaimed. “How is he, Aria?”

“He busted open his stitches so I did the whole song and dance and voila,” you explained.

“It looks good. How do you feel amigo?”

“Who are you?”

“The doctor who helped save your life,” Manolo dryly said.

“This is Manolo. I've known him most of my life. He's a good doctor and an even better man,” you informed as you moved from his side to rinse your hands in the bowl of water beside the bed.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I've been shot.”

“Oh, my friend you have been…3 times. One of them was centimeters from your lung, another a hair from puncturing your heart. Jeez, I don't know which angel you have looking out for you but I need her.”

Manolo approached him and began taking his vitals, you sifted to the back of the room to watch on. Ray's eyes slipped from you to Manolo then back to you as if he expected either of you to make a move against him. Was this because of you or had prison made him this way? Milla slipped inside and came to stand beside you. She now had Ray's full attention. With her voice low, she spoke.

“Razu has men watching the hacienda from all directions. If we plan on leaving without him knowing there is only one option.”

You nodded and locked eyes with Ray.

“Is he ready to move Manolo?”

“He’s a walking miracle. I think he's good to fly.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you people.”

All eyes moved to him each with different emotions radiating from them. You sighed.

“Do you think you have a choice?”

Ray narrowed his eyes at Milla's question.

“Yeah, I do. I don't know you from Adam.”

“What else do you need to know besides I--.”

The door opened and the rest of your Femmes walked in and flanked your side assuming formation without even realizing it.

“We saved your life,” Milla continued.

“Enough. This is Milla, Lyn, Jada, and Uki. These are my Femme Fetales, you explained.

“Femme Fetales? What's with the name?”

“Let's hope you never have to find out,” Keturah slid in.

“If you don't come with us, what's your plan? Go back to LA? Wander around alone? Get into some more shit with some more untrustworthy fucks?”

“Those were my brothers! And now they're fucking gone!”

“I know and I know what a deep cut that is. I know you're angry but being angry doesn't mean you have to be stupid. I don't think you get it. Right now your only option is to disappear. No, returning to LA, no lone wolf shit.”

He studied you and you could see the storm of emotions swirling inside of him. He was rightfully angry. His world shifted yet again. When he didn't speak for a few minutes you sighed again.

“Well stay one more night, give you some time to think it over. If tomorrow you decide you still don't want to go with us then fine. You be on your way and we'll be on ours no questions no debates.”

“Aria,” Uki began but you held your hand up to stop her.

“Everyone out.”

“Would you like something for the pain?”

Ray shook his head and watched everyone pour out of the room one by one. When it was just you, he raised a brow.

“You too.”

You scoffed having half expected it. As you walked to the door he watched you. Before leaving you looked back at him.

“The windows have sensory alarms so they’re sensitive to touch and movement, you’re also three stories up. Patrol outside might miss you if you jump but the perimeter patrol won’t. You’re free to leave but use the front door. It’s safest. Say goodbye first.”

“Like you did?”

For the second time, you felt as if you’d been kicked in the gut and gotten the wind knocked out of you. Low blow, you thought as you nodded and left him. Pressing your back to the door you took several calming breaths and then walked down the hall to the kitchen. You needed a drink—bad!

~~~~~~~

-The Next Day-

“Did you sleep at all?”

You scoffed as you filled your coffee cup with freshly brewed Pu-erh tea. With the sleep you hadn’t been getting and the day ahead that you foresaw, you desperately needed it.

“Sleep? Don’t know her.”

Keturah snorted and shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

You took a lengthy sip from the cup and moaned. “God that’s good.”

“Morning workout?”

“Just a little meet-up with the punching bag.”

“Ah, is this aggression release or sexual tension release?”

You snorted and shook your head before you took another sip from your mug.

“He is ripped, Aria.”

“That he is.”

“He is also a distrustful ingrate,” she added.

You laughed.

“The only reason he is getting a pass is because his friends are gone and he almost died.”

“He doesn’t trust me,” you solemnly said.

You could wallow in it, matter of fact you had already. The entire night you wallowed and sulked because his distrust of you was so evident, so strong that it tore you apart. You’d wallowed until you were at dirt level. Now, in the light of morning, you couldn’t afford to anymore.

“You sure he’s still up there?”

“If he can plan to break into the reserve and steal millions of dollars I am sure he can manage to sneak out of somewhere without raising alarms,” you said.

“Legend,” Keturah muttered.

He sure was. If Donnie hadn’t been a little asshole this heist would have gone down as an incredible legend. It was practically flawless. As Keturah filled you in on any new developments you flitted around the kitchen to put together some breakfast for him. The others rolled into the kitchen and brought you up to date with the new developments but then the conversation shifted to plans and prep to leave. When you gave the go-ahead to get ready to take off in an hour, you walked out with a tray full of food on your way to Ray’s room.

As you stood outside you contemplated if you should just try the door or knock first. You reached for the handle, turned, and cocked your head to the side when you realized it was open. With caution, you walked inside and found Ray walking out of the bathroom, shirtless with a towel hung low around his waist. What was air? You no longer knew because it ceased to enter your lungs. Your jaw hung open and eyes roamed all the skin on display. You remembered Keturah’s words from minutes ago and though you’d agreed then, those words were now your gospel. He was ripped like no one’s business.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled.

“No knock?’

You met his eyes then realized what you were doing. “Ehm. Sorry. I uh—I honestly didn’t expect you to still be in here.”

“You and me both,” Ray answered.

“Well, I brought you poison-free breakfast. Freshly made and still hot.”

You placed the tray on the bed then backed up when you felt him walking toward the food. He looked over the tray then at you then back at the food. You watched him ease down onto the bed then dig into the double stacks of pancakes, eggs, sausage, and tater tots. When he dipped a matter tot into the grape jelly you smiled, comforted that at least that was the same. The man loved his sweets.

You didn't know how long you stood there watching him eat but in no time at all the plate was empty and he was gulping down the tea you'd given him.

“Tea is not my thing.”

“I know but you were just shot and still recovering caffeine is on the list of no foods for a while longer.”

Ray stared at you with squinted eyes and underneath the scrutiny of his eyes you has to look away but your eyes went back to his body. God he looked good, you thought. Again your eyes went to the “A” part of his chest tat and stared. He'd tattooed your name on him. If he'd done that he couldn’t hate you could he?

“What game are you playing? Whatever it is I don't want any parts of it this time,” Ray said, draining the hot tea.

“I'm not playing any game, never have.”

“Right.”

You'd had enough. “Look say what you gotta say, I've had enough with the passive-aggressive you. Speak your heart, because we gotta move. I don't like being away from home after a job for too long.”

“Home? Funny I thought LA was your home, that I was…”

He trailed off leaving the words unspoken but still felt.

“Guess things change. You had no problem leaving LA and staying gone for 10 years. Had no problem letting me take the fall, the time, and all that came with it! No problem using me!”

“Okay, you wanna do this now? Fine!”

You pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. “I never used you. I also never asked you to take the fall for me. That was you, Ray!”

“Bullshit! You made a fucking choice and it wasn't me.”

“You told me to run. I ran.”

“Without hesitation you sure did.”

“Oh come on Ray! You don't know how hard that was for me. You have no idea what the fuck I've been through because of that night,” you spat.

“You!? I went to fucking prison Aria. Me! You disappeared. You never visited, never wrote, never called. Nothing! It was me doing the time alone. Me dealing with all that shit for 10 years. You abandoned me!”

His words hurt like 10 thousand blades slicing at your heart. He really had no idea and was just fine looking to the worst as the explanation. The fury rolling off of him doused your anger. In a way, you guessed it was true. You had disappeared. You didn't call, write or visit. You did run when he told you to. Everything he said was true at surface level.

“I didn't want to leave you, Ray. I wanted to stay and take my chances, serve the time with you.”

“Bullshit! Don't fucking lie to me Aria. I've had 10 years to sit with your lies. 10 years to comb through every lie you said, every lie you weaved into your movements, every lie spoken with your touch. The ledger is in the red, Aria. You can never pay it!”

He was right. You couldn't make up for what happened. It was too late too much had happened. You'd been stupid to think that if you just showed up again things would work themselves out. Even if he knew the whole story nothing would change. You clenched your jaw trying to stop yourself from crying.

“I'm sorry.”

Ray scoffed harshly.

“Fuck your sorries. They mean jack shit.”

This one wasn't a blade. It was a bullet and it made dead center impact. Unable to control yourself you stood and stalked to the door keeping your face turned from him. Before you walked out you stopped and took a breath.

“We're wheels up in an hour. The choice is yours on what to do.”

You grabbed the doorknob and half walked out but stopped again. “Every word I've ever said to you, every action, every touch, every single moment was never a lie. I got you. ‘Till the end imma ride wit’ you. I meant that on everything.”

You rushed from the room knowing you were seconds from exploding with every emotion you'd caged in the last 10 years. You zipped past your girls who'd no doubt heard the shouting and hightailed it to the shooting range under the house where you fired round after round at nearly every target there hitting dead center every time. As you released bullet after bullet tear after tear fell filling the endless well you now knew you'd carry the rest of your life.

An hour later you'd pulled yourself together and were clean, dressed, and strapped up ready to face your shit like the grown-ass woman you were and the queen you were set to become.

“Everything good?

“Yep. Is everyone here?”

No one answered which told me Ray wasn't here. You nodded and took a slow breath in.

“Did you give him the heist money and some gear?”

“An hour ago,” Uki replied.

“All right then. Let's go home.”

You pressed the elevator button and the doors opened.

“Where is home?”

Ray's deep baritone washed over you stunning you still.

“Why?”

“I would like to know where I'm going before I get there,” he answered.

Your head snapped back to him and your eyes locked. Hope swirled within you and it was stronger than any other emotion. It truly was dangerous.

“Nigeria.”

His brow crooked. “Hm, I've always liked the heat.”

“Let's see if you can take it, white boy,” Jada teased.

They all giggled and you caught a ghost of a smile on Ray's lips and your stomach flipped. Shit, you thought. You didn't need this right now.

“You have your money. Why not just take it and go?”

“I still might but right now I have nowhere I need to be.”

You nodded, hearing the words between his words.

“Let's move.”

You got in the elevator and everyone else piled in after you. Once under the compound you took to the escape tunnel and followed the 2 miles until you climbed back to ground level where the truck waited. After loading the bags, you sped away knowing Razu would have never seen this move coming.

It didn't take long to get to the jet and when you were securely in the air and exiting Mexican airspace you began to breathe more freely. For the first hour or so Ray kept to himself. He didn't speak or interact he just watched everything. It was a strength of his and soothing he'd honed in the services. By the time hour 4 came around Milla, Lyn, and Keturah had pulled him into a card game where they grossly took advantage until he got the hang of it. Then the tides turned in his favor.

Slowly he looked like he was beginning to fit in, and it made you relax a little more. Four and a half hours after takeoff, you were landing toward the coast where you would take a boat to the compound. Being the serviceman he was, Ray constantly checked the perimeter with one hand on his gun and the other hooked in the bulletproof vest he wore. He looked like a fish out of water amongst the backdrop of dessert colored dirt, rocky mountains, and free-roaming elephants, Zebras, and Antelope but at the same time, he looked like he belonged. Perhaps that was wishful thinking.

“Home, oh!”

You looked out to the palatial compound that rivaled the vastness of The Alamo and smiled. While you felt like a caged bird at times you loved being home.

“That is home?”

“Home sweet home,” Lyn added.

“Jesus, who are you people?”

They giggled while you focused on your return. You could already see movement and knew everyone around was gathering. Once the boat docked you unloaded and made your way to the walls. The men on patrol there were starting at Ray like he had three heads.

“Ehm!”

The guards shook out of their stupor and then opened the gate allowing you to enter. As you walked through, they saluted you with the respect you deserved. However, before you made it to the house you heard the murmurs of the arrival of the man you knew you'd have to answer to sooner or later. Everyone around except for you and Ray dropped to one knee while bending one arm at the elbow and clenching a tight fist. Your father's salute. You looked to Ray he was clearly confused but not intimidated.

The 6-and-a-half-foot man approached you with a stern look on his face and dressed like the world's best businessman. When he stood in front of you, Ray still didn't drop to his knee. You didn't know if it was ignorance of who was before him or indifference. If it was indifference, you were highly turned on. As your father eyed you trying to intimidate you into submitting you stood there head high, eyes locked on his not wavering. Your father's eyes shifted to Ray and you took a sidestep to stand in front of him.

“I'm home baba.”

Your father’s eyebrow crooked. “Baba? You still recognize me as your baba? You still recognize me as the leader of this organization?!”

Everyone continued to murmur as they felt the air shift from his anger.

“Of course.”

He scoffed. “I explicitly told you to stay out of the States. I told you that you can't break him out. I told you so many things and they were all ignored by you. All disobeyed!”

“Baba, I couldn't just sit here anymore. I had to.”

He stared at you, eyes still blazing with anger but slowly his features cooled. “You accomplished it too, I am impressed.”

You smiled.

“But what if I would have lost you? What then? Did you plan that far in your elaborate schemes?”

“You raised me and I had my Femme Fetales, how could you lose me?”

He sighed, shook his head then cupped your cheek. “You are of my blood, I don't know why I was surprised. I'm surprised it took you this long.”

You smirked.

“Fine.”

Your Father's eyes shifted back to Ray who was still standing.

“Still standing I see.”

“I bow to no one,” Ray defiantly exclaimed in that nonchalant voice of his.

Your father cocked his brow then laughed heartily. “Is that so?”

“Viper, it's been settled,” one of the men informed bowing his has to your father.

Ray's eyes went wide. “Viper? As in The Viper? The most feared and respected man in the game? The man who is at the top of everyone's wanted list and who has a hand and foot in every country and every market? That viper?”

Your father looked impressed. “And if I was that Viper?”

Ray looked at you then back to your father. “Then you'd have a lot more of my respect.”

He laughed again. “Interesting. Still standing?”

“I told you; I bow to no one.”

Your father smirked. “If you stay here when she takes over I can't wait to see you eat those words.”

He and Ray squared off both stating the other down as if sizing each other up. You knew your father was trying to gauge what kind of a man he was and get a feel of what value he posed. Usually, he was a great judge of character, but you wondered if he’d be biased because of the past, because of what Ray was to you.

“Everyone back to work.”

All the soldiers began walking away clearing the center but when you began to move he spoke again. “Everyone except Ray. We have plenty to talk about.”

You once again leaped in front of Ray shielding him. “No way.”

His eyes dipped down to yours and he mischievously smirked. “Why?”

“Because I know you. To punish me and prove a point you would kill him.”

Your father put his hand over his chest. “You wound me, princess. I promise I won’t kill him much less lay a hand on him. However, if he can’t so little as take a beating then maybe he’s not an asset here.”

“Baba he’s already taken 3 bullets, 2 came close to his heart and lung.”

“And I’ve taken a bullet right in the head and I lived to talk about it and run this empire. Near a lung and heart is child’s play.”

You opened your mouth to counter, but your father’s voice boomed over yours. “Either I talk to him alone now or I will see if he can take a bullet to the head and live. What’s 4 bullets?”

You knew better than to push him. He was your father, and he was soft on you, but he was still in charge. You hated it when he threw his weight around like this. Gritting your teeth, you sidestepped.

“Go and make sure everything is okay with the mission for tomorrow night.”

With one more glance at Ray, then your father you walked off. If Ray was going to survive here he had to learn how to fend for himself. What better opponent to start with than the king himself?

-Ray-

The fucking viper. He’d heard countless stories of this man’s empire. In LA there were plenty of his viper dens, plenty of his people dealing in so much shit. His gambling den was always packed and usually, the place everyone went for information, and that was just one of his businesses. He’d had no idea his reach came this far. Africa. Holy shit, he thought. They’d walked to a more secluded part of the compound, a part that looked like a luxury desert oasis.

He watched Viper sit, pull out something wrapped in brown paper then light it. With one puff came another and another until he was surrounded by white fragrant smoke. He took a deep breath in. It had been a long time since he’d had one of these. With parole checks and shit like that, he had to stay clean of everything.

“Here. Live a little.”

He held a similar one to him. He took it and mirrored his actions until he’d taken one long puff of his own. He groaned long and loud which brought a laugh from the giant’s mouth across from him.

“10 long years without one huh.”

He took in this man in a designer suit, diamonds, and gold. He had no idea you knew The Viper. It dawned on him then that he probably didn’t know anything about you anymore.

“I will give you one piece of advice and a warning all wrapped in one. Never have daughters because they will cripple you worse than any bullet ever could.”

Once he’d said the words it didn’t take him long to piece it together. Daughter.

“Aria is your daughter.”

He nodded. “She didn’t tell you.”

He sighed and took another lengthy puff. “One of many things I’m sure. I’m not surprised anymore.”

“Sounds a lot like animosity.”

He sighed but remained silent. He was bitter—very bitter.

“I’m sorry about your brothers. I know a loss like that—is a serious blow especially not being able to say goodbye.”

He balled his free hand. he’d hit the nail right on the head.

“If I know Aria and I do, she’s already found your snitch and he’ll be gift-wrapped to you by tonight.”

He snapped his eyes to the viper. “What’re you talking about?”

He sighed and blew out a puff of smoke. “I suppose it’s time to come clean.”

A few moments passed in silence, and he waited as patiently as he could.

“12 years ago I knew the moment you met, and I knew from that moment every move either of you made. I knew every secret rendezvous, every phone call, text message, every mini heist, every small job, every crazy scheme, and plan. Aria had no clue I knew and though I was leery about you, hell any man who wanted my daughter’s attention. She’s my only child and the future of this empire. But I like to give her small freedoms, so I let her live, I let her think she was living this secret life and I kept watch as the two of you fell in love—to my complete dislike. Of all people, a white boy oh.”

He kissed his teeth, then sighed. “I thought—hoped it would be young love, a fling, but I knew the night she shielded you from that vato, we’d move way past that.”

His interest was piqued but his gut rolled as if he knew he wouldn’t like what came next.

“The night of that lift off the PerriP crew I had my most trusted guys watching her. I knew the deeper in she got with you the more risk she would take. So when the shit hit the fan and you guys figured out there was a snitch you got cornered. They reported it to me, and I relayed my orders. Get her out at all costs.”

He paused again to take another drag from the substance lit between his fingers.

“When you told her to run, and you decided to burn yourself to save her I knew she would have stayed right there with you no matter what. You got separated it wasn’t because she actually ran. my men came in and sedated her to get her out.”

Everything felt like it collapsed then, his vision went tunnel, heart pounded painfully and loudly.

“What!?”

“My men followed my orders and when she came to, she killed several good men in an effort to get back to you. Of course, I couldn’t allow that. Within 2 hours, she was on the jet back here.”

As his heart thudded more painfully he pressed his hand over it. All this time, he thought.

“For the last 10 years, she’s been forbidden from making contact, forbidden from stepping foot in the States, forbidden from doing anything that he didn’t approve of. She hated my order and rebelled like hell. For years she hated me. I’m sure she still hates me for it, but I knew without a doubt that she would have served that stint with you. As her father, I couldn’t allow that.”

In the span of five minutes, his entire world had shifted. Everything he believed was flipped.

“You may resent me for it but, even knights are meant to be sacrificed for the queen.”

He met your father’s eyes and saw aloofness. He didn’t look remorseful, but he could see something that he thought was close. He wasn’t sorry nor did he regret his decisions, but he felt badly.

“Since the day she landed here, she’s been keeping tabs on you. She knew about your life on the inside and kept her ears to the ground so she knew when to step in if she had to. She was the reason you only served 10 instead of the 20 they wanted to give you. She wanted to break you out, but I wouldn’t allow it because that move would jeopardize my empire because of all the moving parts and people in law enforcement and government it would have taken. I don’t like to cash in debts.”

As your father spoke he sat there thinking about the last 10 to 12 years of his life. The happy years with you then the darkness of the last 10.

“She knew about your heist plan, knew about Donnie but she let it play out because she had a bigger plan. She managed to be one step ahead of everything and executed her plans seamlessly. She went against me and my orders and put the entire den in jeopardy just to step in and save you. She did all this for one man.”

He sounded as if he were in disbelief.

“Were you worth it?”

He scoffed. Was he?

“I see a lot of myself in you. Your ferocity, brains, drive, creativity, and foresight, I see so much potential for you here. I’m impressed with what you can offer the den. I always have been. Now that she’s gone through all this effort it is clear to me that how she felt then never died, it lives still. The proof has always been clear to me though I was reluctant to accept it. She is my princess, and no one is worthy of her. However, it’s become time for me to step aside and let her choose who stands beside her. I’ll offer you a spot in my empire, a place in the Den of Vipers, but the role is up Aria.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. All these years, all this time. Everything he’d thought was real wasn’t, everything was wrong. Your father stood then patted him on his shoulders.

“Take some time to think about it. Let me know when you’ve decided.”

With that, he walked off leaving him sitting there in this oasis with a head full of thoughts and a heart aching in more ways than one.

-Aria-

It had been nearly 2 hours now. What the fuck could they be talking about for so long? Being home you were supposed to be at ease but during your soak in the tub, you hadn't felt any ease. You were as tense and worried as ever. Not even half a bottle of rum had helped. You paced your room in your mid-thigh length robe as you thought about your options. Your father was pissed with you but you knew he wouldn't be too harsh. If you interrupted whatever they were doing he wouldn't punish you for it.

With your mind made up you flung your door open the gasped seeing Ray standing on the other side. Immediately he took your breath away. Mere hours ago, his eyes still held anger and mistrust in them. Now they were softer. What in the world had happened?

“Uh…what’re you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

You crooked your brow. Now he wanted to talk? Without waiting for your reply, Ray walked into your bedroom leaving you stunned. He couldn’t wait to get away from you before, now he was barging into the viper's den. After closing the door, you cautiously walked in. Ray was at the window scanning the perimeter. When he turned his eyes roamed over you taking in your attire. When he realized how little you had on, he turned his head then breathed out heavily.

“How did you find me?”

“I asked.”

“And everyone was so willing to give you, an outsider, the location of--.”

“The next Viper in line to rule?”

You took him in. Your father had told him.

“Your father must have given me the green light around here,” he said.

“What? After 1 conversation? What in the hell did you talk about? Did he pull a gun on you?”

“Nope. He gave me some weed.”

You gaped then shook your head because it sounded like something your father would do. “So, he gave you weed then approved your access, and bam here you are.”

“10 years of secrets. Don’t you think it’s time to come clean?”

You studied him for a few moments then sat at the foot of your bed.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I did 10 years for you. The least you could do is be honest.”

“You keep saying that like I made you take the fall, like--.”

“Like you didn’t leave me?”

“Ray you told me to run. I did!”

“Yeah, you did. You ran never looked back then disappeared.”

You pinched your nose bridge then pressed across your forehead. He had no idea.

“If I looked back I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave. I knew that we’d both get caught and then we’d both be fucked. I wanted to go back so bad Ray. I knew I could convince my father to plan a jailbreak for you before any sentencing even happened but then some of my father’s men grabbed me and the next thing I knew I was on a plane halfway across the ocean. I tried to get back. I swear I did but--.”

“Even knights are meant to be sacrificed for the queen,” Ray said in such a way that an eerie feeling washed over you.

He’d talked to your father. Those were his exact words to you when you tried to plead your case to go back for Ray or even plan a jailbreak. He’d told him everything.

“He told you.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

“And you’re still angry with me? Why?”

“There is nothing and no one that could keep me away from you. All it took was daddy’s words for you to give up on me.”

You sprang to your feet then, anger bubbling in your gut. “You don’t know my father. He would have killed you just so you weren’t a distraction for me anymore. I stayed away to keep you alive. I didn’t give up on shit. All these years I’ve been watching. All these years I’ve been trying to keep you safe. Do you have any fucking idea how exhausted I am?!”

“I don’t need your fucking protection Aria! I didn’t then and I don’t now! I—I fucking needed you!”

Your eyes were locked on his, jaw tight as a slew of emotions swirled within you. Ray was the kind of man who was quiet but expressive. When you were together those 2 years he wasn’t overtly expressive about his feelings. What he didn’t say in words, he said in plenty of other ways. However, when he used words he always took your breath away. Now, today was no different.

Slowly you watched his eyes fill with something else other than anger. Something—heart-wrenching.

“I needed you on visiting days. I needed you at nights. I needed you in the depressing darkness of the hole. I needed you in every fight, every attempt someone made to prove I was weak. I needed to know I still had you.”

Ray turned from you and looked out of the window again. Your tears fell from your eyes, and it hit you then. Yes, he was angry with you, but he was angrier at the situation you found yourselves in. Where you’d had 10 years to accept the shit, he’d just had it all flung at him. Ray’s shoulders were slouched, hanging low as if he now had all the world’s weight on them.

You wanted to touch him, but you were scared he’d shrug you off. So, you kept your distance but after a few minutes the urge became too strong, and you slowly crossed the room until you stood right behind him. Raising your hand, it took forever to close the space to his shoulder. When you laid your hand on his skin, he didn’t move or lash out.

“I felt like such a fucking fool to have burned myself for you. I took you disappearing as you proving how untrue you were that you didn’t mean anything you said. I hated you so much. I wished such horrible things on you but with every horrible wish, I felt worse and worse. I hated myself and--.”

You dipped under one of his arms that were pressed on the windowpane and came face to face with him. Holding his face in your hands you found the last of your courage.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Ray raised his eyes and peered into your tear-filled ones. You repeated the words you’d wanted to say for years. You said them again and again and with each apology Ray melted. The tension in his shoulders crumbled.

“I’m sorry,” Ray croaked out.

It was your turn to melt. Within seconds of those words escaping his lips, you both crashed into one another, lips colliding for the first time in a decade. You’d often wondered if this was possible after everything, and if it were, how would it happen. Would it be slow and tender, teasing, and hesitant? It was neither. Ray kissed you with a hardness that wasn’t there 10 years ago. He kissed you as if he loved you and hated you all at once like he wanted to suck the very air from your lungs to have a piece of you with him always or to kill you so no one could ever have you. His kiss was delightful and torture, familiar but foreign.

Your lips and tongues wrestled never remaining still for long. He swirled his around yours, and you sucked his until he groaned. When Ray pressed your back against the window the hardness of his body made you whimper. This was the body of a fully grown man, not some young adult. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. In response, Ray dipped down and lifted you into the air so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

All of this was muscle memory. Your body never forgot him. How could it? He’d been your first in so many things. You bit down on his bottom lip dragging a fierce groan from him. Ray pressed into you giving you the first feel of his hardness.

“Fuck!”

Like a command received, Ray quickly yanked open your robe then cupped your breasts. His hands were rough, calloused, and larger than you remember. Using his thumbs he flicked your hardened nipples sending jolts of pleasure through you that settled in your core and turned to molten lava.

“Now! I can’t wait anymore,” you rushed out in between kisses.

Ray must have felt the same urgency because he released your breasts then lowered his hands to fumble with his pants. As he freed himself then kicked the pants off they went across the room and banged into one of the lamps bringing it clattering to the floor. With the room in half darkness, Ray locked eyes with you and a second later he split you in half sending his large, thick cock to the hilt.

“Aah! Fuck!”

Ray shuddered as he pressed his forehead to your collar. When he pulled back he rammed himself inside of you again making you throw your head back into the window.

“Ugh!”

His thrusts started slow and punishing. Each quick flick of his hips sent a powerful message that both your brain and body received. You held on to him afraid he’d disappear and you’d realize this was yet another dream. His hands tightened around your hips then he moved you against him, so he was directing his hardness into you the way he wanted, the speed he wanted. Every time he sank into you, your body shook, and goosebumps peppered your skin.

Soon, you both were panting, grunting, and groaning as you fucked right in front of the window not caring who could see. He turned, leaning his back on the wall as he locked eyes with where your bodies were joined.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Uuuugh!”

“Fuck me, Ray. Fuck me!”

That was just what he did. His thrusts were unrelenting, his power all-encompassing and with every minute your pleasure became so intense you knew you would break in half once you came. Ray tightened his grip then moved you more forcefully against him losing all control. The veins in his neck protruded as he lost himself to the pleasure you were sure he could only find with you.

You felt him walking across the room then your positioning changed as he sat you on top of him.

“Take all this dick, Aria!”

He slapped your ass, and it was all the encouragement you needed. You planted your hands on his shoulder then slowly lifted your body up only to slide back down. He felt so good. Ray dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Every time he almost slipped from your heat he bit down on his bottom lip. Then when you sank down on him his nose scrunched. Soon you were bouncing on him using the power and skill of your hips and ass.

Ray gripped your derriere, spread your cheeks then thrust up.

“Mmm!”

That one thrust unlocked something inside of you, something rabid and primal. Raising onto your feet you bounced on him increasing your speed until sweat rolled down your bodies. You pressed your lips to his and kissed him with as much heat as you felt within. It was heat he returned.

“Mm, I’ve missed your tight little pussy.”

Locking eyes with him you bit his bottom lip. “Show me.”

Ray stood, pulled you off him then pushed you over the chair so your ass was propped up like a gift for him. Without warning he slammed into you making you fling your head back. Ray’s hand wrapped around your throat as he held you in the position you were in. With your back arched creating a ‘u’ shape along your spine he lowered his lips to your upside-down ones and kissed you senseless. When he pulled his lips from yours he fucked into you with reckless abandon. Every stroke make you shout his name and every time you did he only fucked you harder and harder.

In no time at all you were seeing stars and your body was begging for mercy. You didn’t dare listen though. When you felt his teeth sinking into your shoulder you screamed from the pain but your body convulsed from the pleasure.

“Still like a little pain with your pleasure huh.”

Ray pulled from your body. You turned to him on shaky legs and peered at him through lust-clouded eyes. He hoisted you into the air again then slid you down on his length. Again you kissed him as he began his torturous pleasure all over again. When you tasted copper, you pulled back to realize you’d bitten his lip and drawn blood. Ray smirked then slammed you into a wall and jackhammered into you.

“Yes!”

“Is this still my pussy, Aria?”

“Yes.”

“Do I still own it?”

“Yes!”

“Ah, ah, ah!”

With each thrust, you could feel his body shaking. He was close and you wanted everything from him. You were tired of the last 10 years of longing. You wanted everything now.

“I love you, Ray.”

His brow quirked then his face scrunched and that was when you felt him release deep inside of you. It was a release that triggered yet another orgasm from you and brought darkness with it as your body exploded.

When you opened your eyes you were in your bed naked and sore.

“What the--.”

“Welcome back.”

Beside the bed, Ray sat just as naked as you. It all came back then, and you couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face.

“Was I too rough?”

You glanced at his chest and saw the blood soaking the bandages. You jerked up. “What happened?”

“I’m fine. Some of the stitches popped.”

You slowly looked around the room and saw everything was in disarray. Lamps were broken on the floor, sheets and clothes littered everywhere, broken glass and furniture were here and there, and blood was smeared on some of the walls and your body.

You snorted, “Just like old times I see.”

Ray smirked.

“I’m sorry,” Ray began.

“Don’t. Let’s stop with the apologies here and now. No more. We missed so much time, so much was missed out on. I don’t want to miss it anymore. I don’t want to keep going like this Ray. I can’t. I miss you so fucking much I can’t breathe. I’ve loved you for 12 years and I don’t see it ever changing.”

Ray walked over to you, his hard cock bobbing in the air. Once beside the bed, he took your hands and raised you to your knees so you were in front of him. When his hand cupped your cheek you melted.

“This is the second time I’ve lost everything. Now I have nothing else, and I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”

His hand slid to the back of your neck to cup your skull. “I have loved you since I was 20 years old. A decade later not a damn thing has changed. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

Your tear slipped from your eye and Ray’s thumb swiped it away.

“Do you mean that? Do you forgive me?”

“I mean it.”

Rau brought your face closer and gazed deeper into your eyes.

“‘Till the end Imma ride wit’ you. There’s nothing to forgive.”

You scrunched your face and tried to contain yourself. “Ray,” you whispered, voice full of emotion.

“Tell me again,” he pleased.

You pressed your forehead to his. “I love you Ray Merrimen. “I got you. ‘Till the end Imma ride wit’ you.”

He smiled and then pulled you into a searing kiss, a kiss that revived your very heart and set your soul on fire. This man was all you wanted and all you would ever need.

“Your father offered me a spot here. He said the role is up to you though.

You held your breath waiting for him to finish.

“I want it. So tell me what role you want me to have?”

“You cupped his bearded jaw.

“I want you next to me.”

He smiled then slowly nodded.

“As your knight?”

You pulled him closer.

“As the king in my den because every queen needs a king.”

Ray laid you down then climbed on top of you ready to make you blackout again but a knock on your door stopped him.

“What?”

“It’s here,” Uki’s voice sounded.

You smiled. “I got you a present.”

“What present?”

“Come.”

The two of you dressed, you in your robe and Ray only in his pants. He didn’t even bother cleaning up the blood off his skin. you like it, he looked fierce. Once you made it outside to the center of the compound, the men had gathered. You glanced at Uki who smirked and nodded at you clearly knowing what had gone down and that Ray would now be a permanent face around here.

“What’s going on?”

“Consider this your welcome present. A token of my undying love.”

The men parted to reveal someone kneeling in the center with a burlap bag over their head. Ray looked at you with confusion.

“Open your present, my king.”

Ray approached the body then yanked off the burlap and came face to face with Donnie. When Donnie looked up at him the terror in his eyes faded.

“Ray—Ray help me. What the fuck is going on?”

Ray looked back at you, and you smiled wider nodding at him. You approached and stood beside him.

“Who’s this?”

“The Viper.”

Donnie’s eyes widened. You loved when your family’s reputation preceded you.

“Fuck, wha—wha—.”

“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I have no quarrel with you. It’s him you have to worry about.”

Donnie looked at Ray again. You leaned forward to Donnie’s ear.

“He knows what you did. He knows everything you did,” you whispered.

Donnie now looked horrified. You smiled when you stood upright again then laughed.

“Ray look man don’t listen to her. She’s lying. I didn’t have anything to do with any of that. Shit just went south. I don’t know how Nick knew about the heist. I don’t know how the money went missing.”

“How did you know the money went missing if everyone who knew that is dead?”

Donnie stuttered at Ray’s question. He’d given himself away.

“Fuck. I’m sorry man. I just--.”

“Shhh,” you repeated. “What was it that you like to say—oh right. You’re in complete control of your environment?”

He looked like he was ready to piss himself. You smirked deviously. “Guess what. You’re in my environment. You always have been in my environment. My den sees and hears everything.”

Ray stared at Donnie with so much anger that you wondered how he’d handle this. Donnie was the reason his brothers were dead. He looked at you.

“Whatever you want,” you said.

Ray nodded then kissed you sloppily making you moan. He then pressed his forehead to yours.

“Gun.”

You repeated the order and took the gun that was given to you to hand to Ray. Donnie then began pleading using every slick word he could find to plead with Ray not to do it.

“I’ll get you the money back.”

“How can you give something you don’t have? I took the money back already.”

Donnie dropped to the ground realizing he had nothing left.

“You got my brothers killed. Do you know what happens to those dropped in a viper’s den?”

“Ray man please.”

“They get bit!”

You watched as Ray released bullet after bullet into Donnie. He didn’t stop until the bullets stopped and the gun clicked over and over and over, and Donnie lay dead on the ground. He dropped his head back and stared into the night sky.

“It’s done. Rest up brothers,” Ray said into the night.

You looked up and saw Razu standing across the way. his eyes wide and jaw clenched tight. You smiled then wrapped yourself around Ray who wrapped his arm possessively around you.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it Aria. You’ve done so much. Thank you.”

You touched his cheek and then kissed him. “I told you. I got you. ‘Till the end Imma ride wit’ you.”

Ray pressed his lips to your forehead then the two of you turned to go back inside.

“Aria! I challenge you and that white abomination!”

You smirked and took the gun Uki handed to you, ever prepared for the shit that could rise. You turned, took aim, and shot quicker than he could realize what had happened. Your shot rang true sending the bullet dead center in Razu’s head.

“Spies and traitors don’t have the right to challenge. Uki will show you all the man Razu was.

She pressed a button on her wrist and the screens around played Razu’s dirty dealings within the den. Everyone whispered words of admonishment as they spat at and on Razu’s dead body.

“Let it be known that as of today I am his, and he is mine. If anyone objects speak now.”

Not a soul spoke and from the corner of your eye, you saw your father standing high above it all watching the events unfold. You held his gaze for a few moments and caught the smile on his lips. He nodded then pressed a kiss to his fingertips and sent it your way. His approval. It was 12 years later but better late than never.

Once you’d returned to your bedroom and ravaged each other thoroughly, you both laid there staring at each other both afraid to sleep for fear it was all a dream. Ray reached out and caressed your cheek.

“I promise to be loyal to you, to love you, and always come back for you.”

You smiled. “I promise to be loyal to you, love you and always come back for you.”

He rolled onto you and captured your lips.

“This is forever, Aria.”

“Forever.”

~End~

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

#ray merrimen fanfic #ray merrimen #den of thieves fanfic #pablo schreiber fanfiction #fanfiction comission #den of thieves #ray merrimen fanfiction #pablo schreiber

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sparklewrites1 · 1 year

Text

To Kiss a Prince

Xenk Yendar x Reader

About: a Cinderella inspired xenk yendar fic

Warnings: barely any romance. Very evil step family members. Kissing.

A/n: I HATE THIS SO much that I cut it off early. But I'll write another xenk fic soon.

A/n: toe mules aren't as ugly as they sound.

Word count: 4.3k

“You will not ruin this night for your sister!” Your step-mother shouted. She gripped your forearm tighter as she approached the cellar door. She took a key from a pouch that was attached to her waist. She inserted the key into the lock and turned it. Within the span of five seconds, the door was opened and you were thrown inside. Before your body could even hit the ground, the door was slammed shut behind you. “This is a very special night for Camille, and I will do everything in my power to keep you away from the ball!”

“Just one hour, Priscilla. Give me one hour to spend at the ball! I won’t even talk to anyone!” you begged through the barred window of the door.

“My answer is final! You will not go to the ball!” She yelled.

“You won’t even have to pay for my clothes! I’ll wear my mother’s old gown!”

“Actually,” A wicked grin grew on her face. “Camille will be wearing it.”

Your heart dropped. Camille, your arrogant and foolish stepsister, wearing the only possession from your mother that you had left. Just then a plummy voice piped up from atop the stairs.

“Mother.” It was Camille. A smirk was on her lips as she neared the bottom of the steps. Your mothers golden dress was on her body.

“She looks gorgeous, doesn’t she?” Priscilla turned to you, with a smug expression on her face.

“Take it off.” Your voice shook as you commanded furiously.

“Ok.” You were taken aback by Camille’s response, confused as to why she agreed so fast. But before you could think any further, Camille brought her hand to the shoulder of the dress, she tightly gripped the fabric, and tore it.

“No!” You cried.

“Whoops.” She taunted. Before lowering both of her hands to the skirt of the dress and completely detaching the fabric from the top half of the dress, leaving her in only her hooped petticoat.

“Stop it!” You screamed

Camille didn’t listen, she only continued tearing at the dress until she was finally satisfied with her work and took off the entire thing completely and threw it on the floor, she was only wearing her petticoat and corset now. She giggled as she trod back up the stairs, and left the room.

Your sobs echoed through the empty wine cellar as you sunk down on the floor.

“This is what happens to insolent girls who don’t listen.” You heard Priscilla’s footsteps fade away until the room was completely silent, aside from the sounds of your sniffles and cries.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. All you wanted to do was go to the winter ball. Everyone in the region who came from noble blood was invited. Despite how your stepmother and stepsister introduced you to others. You were still the daughter of a duke. You were the lady of your house, but unfortunately, when you were a child, your stepmother and stepsisters came along and took titles of duchess and lady before your father died.

That was why you were in this situation. A week ago you had tried to ask your Priscilla if you could accompany her and your stepsisters to the ball and she immediately refused and claimed she would rather be wearing servant's clothing than be seen at the ball with you.

You had tried reasoning with her. You reminded her that you were also a lady of the house. But she simply ignored you. When you tried asking again during dinner, the words she told you were,

“I’ve grown tired of your nagging, {Name}. If you ask me again, I will take away your supper privileges for the rest of this week.”

After that conversation you waited until the night prior to this evening. And when you asked Priscilla at supper, she took the handkerchief that was placed next to her plate, and used it to lightly dab at the corners of her mouth. After that she got up from her seat and sauntered over to you, she grabbed your plate that had barely been eaten off of, and left the room without a word. You could only assume she had taken it to the kitchens to be thrown away.

Then there was this evening, when she had finally lost it on you and threw you in the wine cellar.

And now here you were on the floor of the dark and frigid room, mourning the loss of your mothers dress.

You tucked yourself into a corner with your back against the wall. You brought your knees to your chest, trying to generate some heat to keep yourself warm in this unpleasant area.

You used your knees as a cushion for your head, despite how uncomfortable it was. You closed your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, you just wanted this nightmare to end as fast as possible.

As you tried to drift into an unconscious state, a knocking sound echoed throughout the room.

You lifted your head and looked towards the door to find a familiar face.

“Genevieve!” It was your other stepsister, Genevieve. She was so much kinder than her sister and mother, she always shared her food with you in secret when Priscilla took your dinner privileges away.

You jumped up from the floor and scurried toward the door.

“What are you doing here? You should be with Camille and Priscilla.”

“Did you actually think I would leave you in a wine cellar?” She smiled at you. “Look what I have.” She said in a sing-song voice while dangling the key to the wine cellar in front of the barred window.

Before you knew it the door to the wine cellar was open and Genevieve's arms were wrapped around you.

“I know you still want to go to the ball, and I know what Priscilla and Camille did to your mother’s dress.” She frowned. “That’s why I got some help from an old friend of mine.” She grinned.

“What do you mean?” You queried. Just then an oily voice with a french accent spoke.

“She means she came to me for help.”

You looked towards the stairs to find a man who looked like he was in his twenties, leaning against the wall. He was wearing a jumpsuit covered in sparkles and frills. And his brunette neck length hair was in a neat bun.

“Who are you?” You questioned him suspiciously.

“I am one of many names and places!” He shouted. You and Genevieve flinched at the sudden outburst. “But you, sweet Madame, can call me Axel.”

“How are you going to help me? My mothers dress is completely destroyed,” Tears brimmed in your eyes. “And I doubt you could fix it before the ball has ended.”

“Repeat that last part for me.” He coaxed.

“My mothers dress is completely destroyed?”

“No, no the other part.”

“I doubt-”

“You doubt me?!” He bellowed. “You are a fool to doubt and underestimate my skills!” He shouted. “I will show you what a mastermind of fashion can do!” He reached into the pocket of his jumpsuit and pulled out a large glass orb that looked like it was filled with mint green fog. He raised his arm and swung it towards the floor, releasing the orb from his grasp in the process.

The glass orb landed on the dress and exploded into a million pieces. The green mist that was inside spread over the entire area and left you and Genevieve coughing and gasping for air. Once the mist cleared, in the place of your mothers dress was an extravagant golden ball gown, the neckline and bodice were white and decorated with golden accents, below the bodice was a long, golden, bouffant style skirt.

“How did you do that?” You stared at Axel with an incredulous expression on your face.

“It does not matter! Hurry up and put it on!” Genevieve exclaimed, while gently pushing you towards the dress.

“This skirt though, it is too long for me to wear, I’ll be tripping over the fabric all night.”

“You can use my extra petticoat, now go!” She gave you one final push as you grabbed the dress off of the floor and ran up the stairs, passing Axel, who gently grabbed her arm before she could go any further.

“You’re not wearing those shoes, are you?” He inquired, referencing the dirty flats on your feet.

“They are all I have.”

“Oh.” he murmured. His eyes shifted down to the shoes. “I guess I could work with these.” He turned his eyes back up at you. “Take them off.”

“Pardon?”

“The shoes. Take them off and give them to me.” You bent down and pulled both shoes off of your feet. You then handed them to Axel, “Thank you.”

“What am I supposed to wear at the ball if you have my shoes?”

“Just go and get dressed!” Genevieve and Axel both shouted.

Genevieve and Axel were now in the living area, waiting impatiently for you to come out from your bedroom. Genevieve was bouncing her knee nervously while Axel scoffed for the umpteenth time.

Just then the sound of a door creaking and soft footsteps were heard.

There you were standing in the doorway of the living area in all your beautiful glory.

“You look gorgeous.” Genevieve beamed.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“You were always my favorite sister, Viv.” You hugged her.

Axel cleared his throat. You and Genevieve parted from your hug and turned to him. He outstretched his arms, and in his hands were a pair of white toe mules embroidered with gold.

“For the pretty lady. I fixed your shoes.” he stated.

With a grin you took the shoes from him and swiftly put them on.

“Thank you, Axel. For everything.” You looked at Genevieve. “And thank you, Genevieve.”

“You’re welcome.” Axel smiled. “Now both of you go! You have a ball to attend!” He pushed you both toward the front door. “I already have a carriage outside waiting for you, so don't worry about that.” You and Genevieve stepped outside and saw an all white carriage waiting for you at the end of the path. “Have fun girls!” He waved you goodbye as you walked down the stone path.

You arrived at the carriage and the door was opened for you by a footman. You and Genivieve sat down in seats across from each other. And less than a minute later you were moving. You watched through the window as your manor became smaller and smaller, until it was finally out of sight.

“I still cannot believe that I am actually going to a ball.”

“Have you never been to one before?”

You silently shook your head. A moment of silence passed.

“Well, I will help you navigate your very first ball!” Genevieve piped up. She leaned towards you and grabbed your hand. “I will make sure you have the best night of your life.” She smiled, and you returned the gesture.

But your joy shifted into fear as a terrifying thought entered your mind.

“Camille and Priscilla, how will we avoid them?” You frowned. Genevieve sat back in her seat and pondered for a few seconds.

“I will stay with them, and I will keep them from spotting you.” She decided. “That way, you will be able to thoroughly enjoy your night.”

“Oh, Genevieve. You are the greatest sister I could ask for.” You leaned forward and captured her in an embrace.

After a fairly short ride, the carriage came to a slow stop. You took that as a sign that you had arrived at the royal castle.

The footman opened the door for the both of you once more. Genevieve stepped out first and you followed close behind.

“How long do you think we can stay?” You turned your gaze to her.

“Mother usually is in bed by midnight, so I’d say we could stay until 30 minutes before midnight.” You nodded in agreement.

As you neared the gates, you noticed that the area was completely empty, save for a few guards who were scattered around the castle.

Once you were inside, it only took you about five minutes to find the ballroom, which was already full of guests from around the region.

Genevieve went inside first. She whispered something in the ear of the master of ceremonies.

“Lady Genevieve of the House of Blanchard!” The man announced.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you passed through the large doorway. You turned toward the master of ceremonies and whispered a fake name in his ear.

“Lady Josephine of the House of Allard!” He announced.

You let out a shaky breath as the large crowd came into view. Heads turn in your direction, and you hear a few murmurs coming from the people.

Your anxiety lessened as you spotted Genevieve successfully distracting your stepmother and stepsister.

You sauntered down the stairs. When you made it to the bottom, the crowd seemed even larger.

You let a shaky breath out as you observed the room. There were so many people, most of them you didn’t recognize, although a small amount of them you had seen around town when you were younger.

You took a stroll around the room, greeting people and making small talk as you passed them. After about thirty minutes you started to feel overwhelmed by all the conversation, so you went into a corner of the colossal room that was less crowded.

You stayed there for the next few moments, watching as couples danced to the elegant music that was played by a large band that was located in the corner across from you. You watched as people gossiped and laughed with each other. Your heart couldn’t help but ache at the sound of it. Oh, how you wished for a life full of joy and laughter. How you wished to have friends you could visit everyday. How you wished to have a home of your own that you could host get-togethers in. How you wished for someone who you could open your heart to, someone you could lay next to every night and converse with into the early hours of the day. How you wish you had someone to hold you in your darkest hours. Oh, how you wished for something that at least resembled true happiness .

But a life like that was out of your reach. You would never find love, You would never have close friends. And you would never have a home of your own. You accepted that fact long ago.

You couldn’t help but lower at the sight of everyone's joy.

“Are you alright?” A smooth voice spoke from beside you.

You turned towards the source and found a tall, handsome man, his face showing a hint of worry.

“I am fine.” You lied. “I am just… Anxious.”

“Is that why you are crying?” He inquired.

You placed a hand below your eye and sure enough, there was a droplet of water on the tip of your finger.

“Oh.” You searched your general area for a handkerchief and found none. That was until the man next to you held one out for you.

“Here. It seems like you need it more than I do.”

You gently grabbed the handkerchief from his hands, and dabbed the area underneath your eyes.

After you were finished, you went to hand the handkerchief to him but he politely refused.

“I have others, that one can remain in your ownership.”

You mumbled a thanks and continued to grasp the handkerchief.

“What is your name?”

“I am Josephine of the House of Allard.” You lied.

“I don’t recall a ‘House of Allard’. Are you from this region?”

“Yes, I live in this region. My family is not exactly popular.” You lied once more.

“Is that so?”

You nodded. You silently gulped as his eyes scanned you for a second, then he opened his mouth.

“Would you like to dance?”

You momentarily froze. Dance? Did you know how to dance? You never recalled taking any lessons, so it was safe to assume you didn’t. You looked toward the crowd, the dance everyone was doing didn’t seem to be too complicated, but you doubt you could memorize it. You turned back toward the man.

“I don’t know how to dance.” You nervously explained.

“I will teach you.” He held out his hand for you to take.

You hesitantly place your palm in his and he led you to the middle of the ballroom. A new melody started to play. You nervously stood in front of the man, one hand was on your hip, the other was still grasping your hand. You placed your other hand on his shoulder, and the dance began.

You tried your best to follow his moves, and although you did graze the tips of his shoes once or twice, you did surprisingly well.

As time went on, it felt like you two were the only people in the room. You slowly, but surely memorized the steps to the dance that you are now aware is called, ‘The Varsovienne Waltz’. You and the man moved gracefully across the ballroom floor. You observed the way his golden brown skin glowed under the bright lights that were scattered around the room, his short locs were swept to the side of his head, and his gorgeous brown eyes stared deep into yours.

As the music slowed and you continued swaying with the man. You started to notice the stares that were placed on the both of you. You let your gaze lower to the ground as your face grew hot. Were you two being watched the entire time? If so, why?

But unbeknownst to you, among the sea of people, there were two sets of eyes that placed their glares upon you.

“Is that who I think it is, Genevieve?” Priscilla questioned.

Inside Genevieve was panicking. She was supposed to keep Priscilla and Camille occupied, and she was successfully doing so! That was until events took a turn for the worse, when you and the prince himself were seen waltzing in the middle of the ballroom. Genevieve tried her best to keep her sister and mother from looking, but the large crowd gathering around you two drew their attention. And now here she was, trying to come up with an explanation as to why you were dancing with the royal prince.

“That is not her. I swear. I left her in the cellar.”

“She's lying, mother.” Camille’s jade green glare was placed on Genevieve.

“Don’t you think I know that.” Priscilla snapped. She looked towards Genevieve once more. “Genevieve,” She started. “This is a very special night for your sister. It is supposed to be your sister who is dancing with the prince. Not the unwanted orphan who we give shelter to.” She placed both hands on Genevieve's shoulders. “Now I want you to go over there, Grab {Name}, and bring her to me, so that I can have a ‘talk’ with her.” She commanded.

“I won’t.” Genevieve responded.

Priscilla took in an irritated inhale. “And why won’t you?”

“Because they are gone.” Genevieve tried to contain the small smirk that was growing on her lips.

Priscilla turned her eyes back to the center of the room, and sure enough, you and the prince were nowhere to be found.

“Where has she gone?!

You and the man were sitting on a stone bench in the castle gardens. After the dance, you had told him that the stares were making you anxious, after that statement, he had told you that he knew a place where you could both respite. He had led you to a private garden that was hidden behind the castle, and taken you to a stone bench that sat in front of a small pond.

“Should we even be here?”

“It’s alright. I have access to this location for a reason.”

“And what is that reason?” You slightly leaned towards him.

“I will tell you, but only if you tell me your name.”

“I have already given you my name.”

“I know that there is no ‘House of Allard’. I want your real name.”

“My name is, {Name}, of the House of {Last Name}.”

“{Last Name}? As in Duke{Last Name}?”

“He was my father. But he died long ago. Now I live with my stepmother, and stepsisters, who are also of noble blood, and they are here tonight.” You said with a bit of sadness in your tone.

“Are they?”

“Yes. But I do not want to talk about them now.” You declared. “But now, you must tell me about yourself, to make it fair.”

“Alright. My name is Xenk. Xenk Yendar. I am the prince of this kingdom, and this is my private garden.”

Your jaw dropped. There was no way you were sitting next to the actual prince of Quisritis.

Oh no.

You danced with the prince! You stared into his eyes meaningfully! (?)

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were just supposed to come to the ball, enjoy yourself for a short time and leave. What you weren’t supposed to do was get friendly with the prince.

There were so many things going on in your mind at the moment and you couldn’t process them all, you wanted to say something but you couldn’t even think of the right words. So you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“You’re fucking lying.”

Your hands flew to your mouth. You jumped up from the bench, and as quickly as you got up you dropped down to your knees in front of him.

“I apologize to Your Highness! I did not mean to say such vulgar words! I ask for your forgiveness!” You pleaded.

“There is no need to apologize. I appreciate your honest words. Now please, can you get up?” He awkwardly requested.

You rose from your spot on the ground and stood in front of him.

“Sit down, please?”

You sat.

“You should not have to apologize for speaking your mind. In fact, I implore you to speak it right now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Whatever you are thinking, I am interested in hearing it.” He smiled.

“Well, I think that… You are very handsome, and I think your taste in flowers is impeccable.” You picked at your nails, waiting for a response. (I'm crying this is so ew.)

“Thank you.” He smiled. “And my taste in flowers, why do you think that?”

“I was observing the pond, and I noticed how you had pink dahlias and lavender hydrangeas next to each other. Although other people would find it strange, I feel that the similar shapes of the flowers compliment each other. Also, I know that it was you who changed your family crest from a purple clematis to an iris. A purple clematis symbolizes royalty while an iris symbolizes hope, which leads me to suspect that you purposely chose the iris to show that your rule means hope for the future.” You rambled.

“You are observant. I admire that.”

“I don’t consider myself observant. I just pay attention.”

“Is that so?” he tilted his head slightly.

You nodded. Looking up at him through your eyelashes. You noticed how his eyes went down to your lips for a split second. You tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t. You leaned forward and so did he. Your noses were touching. His lips were grazing yours. Just as the final move was about to be made, Chimes of a bell echoed through the air. You turned your head towards the clocktower and your heart dropped when you saw the time.

It was midnight.

You were supposed to have left thirty minutes earlier, but you had gotten sidetracked when you were with the prince. You turned back towards him, grabbed the side of his face and pressed your lips against his in a hasty fashion, after a good second or two, you pulled back.

“Apologies, my prince, but I must be going!” Before he could respond you turned around and ran away.

You sprinted through the large halls of the castle until you had finally gotten to the exit. You saw your carriage and footman still waiting for you at the end of the path, but Genevieve was nowhere to be seen. You could only assume she went home with Priscilla and Camille.

When you got to the carriage, you practically jumped inside. Instead of waiting for the footman to get the door, you grasped the handle and closed it yourself.

You huffed as the carriage started moving. You weren’t in the clear just yet, but for now you could relax just a little bit. As you got in a comfortable position, you felt a strange sensation. You felt carpet rubbing against your foot. You pulled your skirt back and sure enough, your shoe was gone. You groaned, already knowing Axel wouldn’t be too happy to hear about losing your brand new toe mules. But that was the least of your concerns.

You arrived at your manor after what felt like hours, even though the ride had to have been twenty minutes max.

You stepped out of the carriage and rushed toward the entrance of your manor. When you opened the door all was quiet. You ran to your bedroom in the attic and quickly changed out of your gown, and into your pajamas. You gently took your gown and shoe into your hands and hid them in the loose floorboards under your bed.

You got in your bed and pulled the covers over yourself, hoping to fall asleep before Priscilla and Camille were home, and you eventually did.

Meanwhile, a certain prince stood on the steps of his castle, holding a golden slipper…

#xenk yendar x reader #xenk yendar #dungeons and dragons honor among thieves #dungeons and dragons #honor among thieves #dungeons and dragons: honor among thieves #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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