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#Only one or two Darlings recognise it. If that
nikethestatue · 1 day
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Chapter XVI
You Are the One
One time, Elain Marie Paige Archeron had everything she ever wanted. She had love. A love that was pure and clean and genuine. A love that did not ask for anything in return. The kind of love that was true, and kind, and forgiving, and protective. She couldn’t remember a time when she laughed as much as she did in the last three months. She recalled waking up every morning for the past three months and feeling lighter, like there was joy and a promise of good things. Now, in hindsight, she realised that it was because she was in love. But also because she was loved. No one’s ever loved her like that before. No one looked at her in the same way, like she was precious. Like she mattered. Like she was someone’s favourite thing in the world.
Only Elain Archeron did not hold on to that love.
She took it for granted.
She took the man who offered her his devotion and his loyalty and his unconditional, undeniable and passionate love for granted, never thinking that she’d ever lose him.
But she did.
She lost Azriel. 
“Remember, darling, that’s nature…simple biology,”
“Daddy, you aren’t going to be talking about how babies are made?” Elain sniffled, half amused, half horrified.
Her father smiled a sad smile and shook his head no.
“You have to remember that it’s the sperm that chases the egg. It’s the man who pursues the woman. Not the other way around. A man will chase and will not give up until he gets that sperm into the egg.”
“Ew, dad!”
“You are a big girl, my pretty rose. You know what I mean.”
Elain considered his words, and as graphic as they were, they also made sense. He was correct. 
“Love was invented to make nature more palatable,” he continued, “but biology never changed. It’s still about the sperm and the egg. Therefore, let him chase you. And if he doesn’t, then you’ll know the answer. But never chase a man, sweetheart. It’s his nature, his responsibility and his destiny to chase after a woman.”
She sighed and looked out the window.
It's been almost two weeks and Azriel hasn’t sought her out. The sperm hasn’t chased the egg. Azriel hasn’t chased her at all.
At first, it was just…silence.
For four days, it was silent. 
Her texts went unanswered. There were no call backs. She even went old school and sent Azriel an email! And that didn’t get a response either. 
She was ready to go all the way to Canary Wharf and be the weird girlfriend who busts into her boyfriend’s home and starts to demand answers. 
But he finally messaged her with a one word text: ‘training’. That’s all it said. No apology and no explanation. Not an ‘I am sorry for ignoring you’ or ‘I’ve been swamped with the team stuff’. No, she didn’t get anything other than ‘training’.
And so, Elain had changed her mind about trekking to Canary Wharf and waited. Training would eventually be over and he would be back. He'd return to her. Elain wanted to be an understanding girlfriend, who was going to support her man. She realised that he needed to get back into the groove of the game after his injury and get his body back in playing shape. Therefore, when Saturday came about and Arsenal was playing Luton Town, she dutifully turned on the telly and listened to the pre-game broadcast while Piglet raced upstairs and then came back with his red jersey, tossing it to her and urging her to dress him in it. He already knew what he needed to wear when Azriel was playing, and even though he made a mess in his cubby, turning it out and tossing all the other things on the floor, Elain thought that it was too cute how he got so excited and was behaving like a proper little fan. 
They watched the game, with Piglet sitting there, enraptured, and howling happily every time Azriel appeared on the screen. How Piglet recognised him, Elain didn’t know–she once hid under a blanket for 10 minutes, and her pug was wandering around in confusion, looking for her, never thinking to pull the blanket off. But here, he somehow was eagle-eyed and was spotting Azriel among the tiny players on the screen.
While Piglet was innocently happy to watch the game, hopping and rolling around, Elain’s mood was more subdued. She did take a photo of the pug and sent it to Azriel. When the game concluded, and Arsenal had won, she messaged him and said ‘Congratulations! Brilliant game’.
Thanks.
That’s what Eain got in response to her message from Azriel.
Thanks.
Angrily, she waited for more, but nothing else came.
Because if he’d responded, she’d confront him and give him a piece of her mind. What did she do to him?? She was a somewhat reluctant girlfriend, but she had the right to be reluctant. He moved like a freight train, but she was more cautious. Besides, she’s lived through many heartbreaks before and every single man that she’s been with has broken up with her. She never broke up with anyone–all the breakups were initiated by the men. And it looked like the pattern was continuing, unbroken. Azriel was also fed up with her and was breaking up.
That night, after the terse ‘thanks’ Elain closed her bedroom door, so Piglet wouldn’t hear her, and wept.
She wept for herself, for her lost love, for her stupidity.
She cried tears of anger, feeling rage sweep over her, cursing Azriel under her breath, calling him names. She was so angry. Angry at him for making her fall in love with him. Angry at him for making her feel. For having hope. Feelings and hope were things that she long ago placed in a place that she did not access and longed to forget. She hated Azriel Night for making her think that she could be loved, with a passion and devotion that Rhys offered her sister Feyre. She hated him for being even worse than Eris. At least Eris never offered her false hopes–he was what he was and she knew that going in. There would be no sweeping her off her feet by Eris. But Azriel…No, Azriel was gallant and strange. He courted her with ferocious intent and was not shy about showing her, and everyone around them, how much he wanted her. He loved her dog. He cooked for her. He cared for her. He cherished her. He joked, but he never pushed her into an uncomfortable place. She didn’t expect to find him and somehow, he landed on her doorstep. Literally. The old saying ‘it will happen when you least expect it’--well, it happened to her. She didn't expect him to sweep into her life and just overtake her whole existence. Because he did. And she hated him and herself, for allowing him so much power over her. She’d given him everything–her heart, first and foremost, but also access to her home, to her sanctuary and to her family. Even her father had accepted Azriel as an appropriate match for his beloved Elain. Elain was her father’s princess. She was the one he loved the most, and the one who gave him the most worry. He’d been lukewarm on Eris, despite Eris’s title and background. But Azriel–Azriel’d wormed his way into Sir Charles’s heart and Elain’s father came to like Azriel quite a bit.
But he never called. 
At some point, while operating like a zombie day in and day out, Elain couldn’t stand it anymore and swallowed her pride and messaged Gwyn Berdara.
She was mentally exhausted, thinking nonstop about Azriel and why he was acting the way he was acting. Unable to bring herself to reach out to him yet again, and receive yet another awful, one word answer, she opted for contacting Gwyn. She had no feelings about Gwyn either way–she’d only met her twice in person, and Gwyn wasn’t memorable enough for Elain to develop a strong opinion about her. But Gwyn didn’t respond to her either. Elain had sent a nonchalant sort of message of: Good morning! How are you? Just checking in to see how things are going with Azriel Night? I didn’t want to bother him as he is training and playing right now, but I am curious about your progress with him?
The message remained unread.
-
However, Elain Archeron did not need to wait for long to get answers to her questions. They came a day later, courtesy of the Daily Mail.
Another Mystery Woman for the Rackish Lothario?
Azriel Night,  Captain of Arsenal, never one wanting for female company, has been spotted at The Devonshire with a new companion. 
It seems that only a few months had passed since he was photographed on the streets of London carrying another woman in his arms following an attempted robbery. He’d been previously seen with the beautiful partner, now identified as Lady Elain Archeron, on more than one occasion. Hello Magazine even published a holiday spread of the lovely Archeron sisters and their partners in their Christmas edition. London society is still buzzing over the surprise marriage of Lady Feyre Archeron and Lord Rhysand Darling back in December, and over the budding romance between Lady Nesta Archeron, the Duchess of Velaris and Mr. Cassian Night (Azriel Night’s brother). 
By all accounts, the romance between the gorgeous aristocrat and Mr. Azriel Night was going splendidly and he’d been seen leaving her luxurious Russell Square townhouse, and even walking her pug, all through the month of December. However, it seems that their relationship is now on pause.
Mr. Night had been spotted dining at the upstairs restaurant at The Devonshire in the company of another woman. The yet to be named companion and Mr. Night enjoyed Sunday lunch at the Soho hotspot, dining on Roast Rib of Beef, all the trimmings and sticky toffee pudding. 
After so many trials and errors, will this one be the one to capture Azriel Night’s heart forever?
He was at The Devonshire on Sunday–the Sunday when it was Elain’s turn to cook Sunday roast. When everyone had come to her house for lunch. And by everyone, she meant–everyone. Rhys. Feyre. Her father. Nesta. CASSIAN. Cassian Night, who introduced her and Azriel, was at her dinner table, eating roast chicken and buttery peas. But his brother, Elain’s boyfriend, was on a date with someone else. 
A more awkward lunch couldn’t be imagined into existence, even by a talented writer.
Nesta was seething, smoke coming out of her ears. Cassian looked pained and uncomfortable. Rhys didn’t fare much better. 
But it was Piglet who broke everyone’s hearts. He sat by the front door for three hours–waiting for Azriel to arrive. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat. He waited. 
And waited.
And waited.
The whole family was here, and surely his dad would come as well. So he waited. He paced and then he lay on the floor, and he looked at the door, blinking his big brown buggy eyes.
Only Azriel never came.
-
It was a few days later, when Elain on on break between meetings and arranging dates that her phone lit up with a message. She looked at it and her face dropped. 
Gwyneth Berdara
Hi Elain! Things are going well, thank you for asking. How are you?
Elain Archeron
I am well, thanks! Forgive me for bothering you,
Gwyneth Berdara
It’s no bother! I apologise for not responding sooner. I had a presentation to create and it took all my energy and time! 😀
Elain Archeron
I can only imagine. I was just wondering how things are with Mr. Night? 
Gwyneth Berdara
We made the Daily Mail. Can you imagine? The one time we had lunch together. I can’t imagine spending all my life being hounded by journos
Elain Archeron
Oh, have you? I wasn’t aware that you were in the paper!
Gwyneth Berdara
😂 😂 I am suddenly a mini celebrity. Haha. I am only joking. But honestly? Don’t laugh, but we are mostly talking about football and working out. And hand to hand combat.
Elain Archeron
You are interested in hand to hand combat??
Gwyneth Berdara
I’ve been studying. Self-defence first, and then I got interested in other things. He is showing me some sicke moves! 
Elain Archeron
? Okay. I guess thank you for getting back to me. Let me know how it progresses.
Gwyneth Berdara
Will do. Also I didn’t realise the two of you were so close. He talks about you a lot. I know you were his matchmaker too but it’s like you are his GF or something.
Elain Archeron
Well, no worries. I am not. Thanks. Bye.
Elain was even more confused and upset about things after that bizarre exchange. Also, who used the expression ‘sicke moves’?
Professor Gwyn was into hand-to-hand combat? And Azriel was teaching her ‘sicke’ moves? Elain knew that Azriel was a fighter and grew up rough, but…what? 
There was no clarity around what was actually happening between Azriel and Gwyn after all that, and Elain only grew more and more anxious.
-
Another Sunday.
It was Nesta’s turn to cook and host, however, Sir Charles insisted that his daughters come to his house instead. And for that, Elain was grateful.
She was even more grateful to her sisters, who’d arrived without their men. She knew that they were lying when they said that both Rhys and Cassian were ‘busy’ on Sunday, but nevertheless, she was grateful to them. She didn’t think that she could handle another painfully awkward lunch with the handsome brothers who looked entirely too much like Azriel, and with her grieving pug. 
She was seated on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, her chin resting on her folded hands, as she looked out the window. It was raining. Rain. Rain. Rain. Endless fucking rain. 
She barely bothered today–her appearance was sallow and unkempt. She tied her hair in a messy bun, wore a beige jumper and a pair of yoga trousers–attire which was entirely inappropriate for Sunday lunch and not something she’d ever dare leave the house in. But she just couldn't bring herself to care. When the butler opened the door, he stepped back, lack of recognition evident on his face, before he quickly gathered himself and said, “Lady Elain, good afternoon. Please come in.”
Her father, and neither of her sisters comment on her appearance and the maudlin way that she moved around the house, with Piglet trailing behind her, his nose to the ground. No one was surprised when she went to her father’s study and curled up on the sofa, like she did when she was little.
“He’s lost weight,” Sir Charles noted, as he stroked Piglet’s back, while the pug lay unmoving in his lap.
“Two kilos,” Elain said, looking out the window. Expensive cars rolled down the street, taxis and stray pedestrians huddled under their umbrellas. Late January was miserable. Even the warmth of the fire in the marble fireplace didn’t make a difference. 
“That’s a lot for a pug,” her father commended. “Is he not eating?”
“He eats, but he doesn’t ask for snacks and mostly he just sits by the door,” Elain answered and wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks. 
“Elain,” he began saying, but she rose up swiftly and rubbed her eyes vigorously.
“I am okay, daddy,”
“No you aren’t,” he said sadly. “No you aren’t”.
She shrugged, like it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. Nothing much mattered.
“Let’s go eat.”
Just then, a knock on the door informed them that lunch was indeed served.
At least life was predictable. Pleasantly predictable here, with her family. There were no treacherous men and no disloyalty.
Feyre and Nesta were already at the table, their expressions worried, even though they tried really hard to act normal. 
“Hi Piggy, come here little boy,” Feyre tried to summon the pug, but Piglet didn’t even look at her and just went to his bowl, sniffing disinterestedly at the chicken and rice offering. 
Once the wine was poured and the soup was served and the butler left the dining room, Nesta, who’s been clutching at her spoon like she was going to lunge at someone with it, snarled,
“I have to say something,”
“Don’t say anything,” Feyre warned. “Nesta. Don’t.”
“That utter arsehole,” Nesta ignored her youngest sister and clutched at her napkin until her knuckles were white.
Sir Charles winced, knowing that the lunch was about to descend into chaos.
“Girls,” he began with a sigh, but suddenly was interrupted by Elain.
Her voice was monotone and she spoke without inflection, staring straight ahead.
“If I die before Piglet,” she said calmly, while the rest of her family tensed and stared at her with apprehension, “show him my body.”
“Elain,” Feyre gasped. But Elain ignored her and continued,
“Bring him over to my deathbed. Allow him to smell me. He will understand death. He will understand that I was gone and that I would not be coming back. Allow him to mourn me. But do not attempt to spare him the sight of me and my death. He should know that he was not abandoned. He must know that I died, but that I did not leave him. He must understand that unlike others, I did not abandon him. Not like his first family and not like Azriel. He should not be waiting by the door for me to come back. Take him to the funeral and allow him to watch me be lowered into the ground so he understands the finality of it all. He must know that Elain loved him and did not leave him on his own. She was not like Azriel. She never lied to him.” 
-
What Elain had missed the most was the casual intimacy.
As another week passed and January was coming to a close, Elain’s life returned to its natural, if boring routine. 
She worked, taking on more clients–thank god for January and ‘resolutions’ and people wanting to couple up–and that took a lot of her time. She was grateful for the distraction, but the nights and the weekends were tough.
Most evenings, she cried herself to sleep, while remembering all the good things that she’d lived through with Azriel. He wasn’t dead, yet the fissure of emptiness inside her chest that was created by his absence really felt like he had died. There was something unsaid and unfinished about them, which bothered her like a toothache. It was a wound which she kept irritating every time she remembered something about him.
How he was so effortlessly sexual with her, and how his relaxed sensuality allowed her to feel free with her own sexuality for the first time in her life. To Azriel, she was beautiful. Always beautiful. Never awkward or chubby or clumsy or strange.
The way he would habitually slap her bum, every time he passed by her. Or pinch it. Or caress it. Or cup it in his large hand. At first it scandalised her. And then, she grew to love it. She grew to expect it. 
The way he strutted around after a shower in only a towel wrapped around his hips, showing off his incredible body…goodness gracious! That was something to behold! The way she learned all the details of his form, no matter how insignificant–his tattoos, the shape of his shoulders, the thickness of his biceps, how his neck was a touch too long for his body, but how that made him appear more graceful. She knew exactly how many abdominal muscles he packed–more than six, and definitely eight, and she knew the shape of his long strong fingers. His hair curled slightly in the back of her neck. His hazel eyes had more green in them than brown, and were peppered with black specks. He had perfect toes. The V of his hips could only be called vicious, because it was so sharp and pointed right at his…The one thing Elain never got to see. She never saw his member. Felt it, knew that it was worryingly large and thick, but she never saw it.
She supposed that she always thought that they’d have more time. 
She recalled how one time, they were in a restaurant. It was moderately busy and they were seated by the window. It so happened that there was no one at the table in front of them, or by their side. So what did he do? He parted her shirt on her chest, and when she thought that he’d just cop a feel–something he did often and without hesitation–he bared her breast completely and tugged on her nipple, while kissing her lips. She sat there, completely delirious with love and arousal, while he pinched and rolled her nipple in his fingers, while squeezing her bare tit in his palm. Just as the waiter approached, he tucked her back in and acted like nothing happened. 
She missed him.
Sometimes, she screamed into her pillow, a long, tortured scream because she…well, she missed him. There was nothing that could replace him in her life. 
She loved him. Loved him when they were together, and loved him now–perhaps even more than before. 
-
He rang her. 
Once.
It was a day like any other. A blustery wintry afternoon, only 5 pm and already pitch black outside. Though slowly, but surely the days were getting a bit longer. Just a little. It was early February and Elain just changed into her comfy joggers and a sweatshirt having just come back from walking Piglet. He hated being outside, especially when it was cold and drizzling, and thankfully, it was a quick walk and he did his business in record time.
For some reason, it didn’t register with Elain that it was Azriel’s name on the Caller ID. 
She’d become so used to his calls and messages that it seemed normal that he’d be ringing her. 
“Hello,” she said.
He seemed surprised when he said, “Hi Elain”.
Everything stopped. 
The moment she heard that voice, that achingly familiar, smooth, deep voice she felt her hands shake, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.
She threw her phone on the counter as if it burned her and then, with her finger trembling, pressed the ‘speaker’ button.
“Why are you calling me?” she demanded, her voice barely a whisper.
He didn’t answer right away.
“Why?” she asked again, and to her horror her voice was already hoarse and weak, and she sounded strangled. Because there were tears in her eyes and she was hyperventilating.
“How are you?” he asked softly instead.
How was she?
How dare he?
How was she?
She howled like an animal in her sorrow over losing him.
She cried.
She screamed.
She wondered what she'd done and why he just left her without an explanation? 
She didn’t eat.
She didn’t sleep or she slept too much.
“Fine. Brilliant. All good,” she laughed a dry, angry laugh. “I am sure you are doing well too, right? How’s Gwyn?”
He sighed, like the sound of her voice pained him.
“I didn’t like the way things ended between us,” he told her somberly, ignoring her question.
“Well, it was your choice, wasn’t it?” she reminded him. 
“I suppose?”
It sounded like he wasn't sure.
“What do you want, Azriel?” she demanded.
“How’s Pink?” he asked instead.
“What do you want to hear exactly?”
Did he want to hear about Piglet crying by the door?
Did he want to hear about Piglet avoiding any football on TV and barking violently for her to change the channel if he saw anyone running on a green field?
Did he want to hear about Piglet sitting and waiting for him for hours, day after day, hoping that his dad would show up?
“You abandoned him,” she accused him savagely. “I told you not to make him fall in love with you. I told you not to allow him to get attached to you. I explicitly told you that this would happen if he thought of you as his own.”
“I am sorry,” he whispered brokenly.
“You did it all. You hurt us, Azriel. What do you expect to happen now?” she questioned him, feeling her voice becoming hysterical. “Two brothers and two sisters together at Christmas. A third sister alone. A third brother who used to date the third sister is now with some random woman. Is this your vision? For all of us to play happy families? Like nothing’s happened. Like we didn’t exist. Like what we had didn’t matter??”
“He did matter,” he argued. “It does.”
She ignored him.
“Cassian and Nesta are dating now. Feyre and Rhys are married. Instead of leaving me alone–like I requested, over and over again–you made me fall for you. Fall in love with you. And then you tossed me aside.”
“You love me?” he breathed a shocked gasp.
“What?” 
“You said you fell in love with me,”
“You are unbelievable,” she cried out. He was always deranged, but now he was even more incomprehensible. What was wrong with him?
“My dog is screaming any time he sees Arsenal signage. My heart is shuttered. Is that what you wanted?” Elain broke down in tears. “Is that what you wanted?
“I never wanted that,” he argued quietly. “I never,”
“What did you think would happen?” she insisted, sobbing. “That I can just walk away?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice devastated. “It all spiralled out of control…I didn’t want any of this.”
She wasn’t listening to him. 
She cried.
Cried for her lost love. Cried for the children she’d never have with him. Cried for the future they’d never have. Cried for not knowing what his perfect day consisted of. Cried for the Christmases they’d never celebrate together again. Cried for his touch and for his kisses and for him next to her in bed. Cried for the games she’d never cheer at. Cried for knowing that she’d never see him snuggling together with Piglet. 
She cried and Azriel listened.
She didn’t know how long it lasted–felt like an hour–and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t comfort her, but he didn’t ask her to stop either. 
At some point, Piglet came over. He looked up at her, watching her weep, and whimpered sadly, before curling himself at her feet.
“I am sorry, Elain,” Azriel whispered at last.
She quieted down, before telling him,
“I wanted to be your wife, you know. I wanted to build a family with you. I wanted to have your children.”
“I understand. And I am sorry.”
“I wish you happiness, Azriel. Even if you robbed me of mine.”
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shunsuiken · 3 months
Text
DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).
pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader
genre. fluff
wc. 200-400 for each character
an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33
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kaeya alberich
you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.
“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”
“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”
oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.
he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.
“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”
kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”
“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.
klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.
you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”
“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.
you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.
“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”
“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.
“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.
childe
you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.
his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.
the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.
ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”
you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”
he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.
“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”
“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”
“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.
if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-
when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”
kamisato ayato
these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!
thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?
“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”
the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.
“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.
he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.
“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.
ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”
your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”
you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!
“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.
“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.
“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”
kaveh
three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?
“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”
the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.
kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.
“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?
his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”
you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”
kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.
your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.
“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”
neuvillette
“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.
but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.
“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.
when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.
“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”
the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!
but why can’t he bring himself to say no?
the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.
when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.
it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.
“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.
neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.
“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”
neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”
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your-nanas-house · 10 months
Text
The Beginning
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◇ Pairing: Tom Riddle X professor!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, manipulation, forbidden relationship, Tom Riddle, bath, nudity, dub-con, short age gap
◇ Summary: Tom notices that his favourite professor is a bit stressed.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Both character are aged up. Part 2 Part 3
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The room was filled with the chit chat of students who were taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, a subject often called simply DADA by everyone.
In the background of the big lesson room, there was soft music that created an almost pleasant atmosphere in contrast to the type of class that was taking place which had quite heavy topics that frightened many and intrigued others.
One of those people who were fascinated by the subject was Tom Riddle himself, clever boy, Slytherin and much more, especially the darling of professors, of every professor, except Albus Dumbledore, so the young professor Y/l/n was no exception.
There was a special bond between the wunderkind student and the professor, almost intimate if someone misinterpreted it but it was nothing like that or at least that was how it was for Y/n, the young witch had only managed to get her job a few years earlier and right from the start, thanks to the passion for her subject shared with Tom, they began to bond.
The Slytherin student who had now come of age and managed to become the head boy as well as a prefect, had approached the teacher to find out more secrets about magic and because he surprisingly found their conversations interesting as well as entertaining.
This was the real reason why he had started a few months after he met her to pretend to meet her by chance while walking around the castle, thus starting a routine between the two of them that happened almost every day if Y/n wasn't busy with her duties as a Hogwarts professor, which happened sometimes and which annoyed Tom for some strange reason.
Y/n was convinced that Tom saw her as a mother figure, someone to follow and learn from, and so did the young adult, but everything changed one evening.
After a busy astronomy lesson Tom wanted to visit his favorite teacher before heading back to his dormitory but when he reached the door of her classroom, hoping to find her still there, voices made him stop in his tracks.
The door was slightly open and he could easily see what was going on inside Miss Y/l/n's classroom.
She was inside, leaned against a table as she listened attentively to what someone was saying to her, Tom couldn't recognise the man so close to the woman with that look that the student had learned was lustful from the experience of his peers.
The whole situation awakened something all too well known inside the Slytherin heir, envy, pure green envy and resentment turned against them, something animalistic flared up inside him, a need to prove himself just as he had done at the orphanage when he was still a child.
Perhaps that was the reason that started the break of the platonic feelings the student had for his teacher.
New thoughts ran through his head as he decided how to move the pawns of his game in such a way as to receive what he wanted and thought he deserved, waiting patiently for the most suitable moment which came one summer night.
It had been a few months since the beginning of her senior year but they were almost at the end, his attitude had not changed in the slightest towards Miss Y/n and so the young woman did not suspect anything when she received a letter from Tom asking her for urgent help and giving her the coordinates of where to meet.
Worried, the young woman rushed to what she discovered was the prefects' bathroom, she was breathing heavily and was ready to solve whatever the problem was.
The young woman however had expected everything but her favorite student to wander calmly around the bathroom as he arranged the water and suds, meeting her eyes with his cold black ones, a faint smile forming on his face when he spoke "professor".
The atmosphere was suspicious in a way, suspicious but relaxing, since the aroma of soap filled the room as Tom tended to his clothes leaving them propped elegantly on a chair so they couldn't get wet "what's going on, Tom? I got your owl and I came as soon as I could" Y/n declared while she looked around, studying the bathroom in order to understand the riddle and discover why Tom Riddle had made her run all the way there.
She didn't even realize what the boy was doing before he was surrounded by the water and the foam caught her attention again.
Tom was standing in the tub, his clothes forgotten on the chair as the water made his pale skin and nearly Greek god muscles stand out; Y/n couldn't help but notice how his student had grown over the summer, making space for a decidedly attractive young man who reminded her very much of a Greek statue while her y/e/c moved around studying the parts of his skin on view, reaching his neck and finally his face.
She only realised she was holding her breath when their eyes met again, the situation they were in became much clearer to her and a blush appeared on her face making her turn quickly to give privacy to the young man who was staring at her amused with an unfamiliar twinkle behind his pitch black eyes.
She could hear him moving in the water, probably moving closer to where she was before speaking again "I've noticed that you are under a lot of stress lately....I thought a bath might help you, professor" the Slytherin revealed with a mischievous smile that relented slightly when she politely declined several times before attempting to leave the room, soon ending up in the water though, Tom's arms wrapped around her as if they were two snakes, his breath was warm against her neck and she could feel him take in her scent before letting his lips graze the delicate skin of that area "I know you want it too" whispered the young man almost in an attempt to seduce her as he sensed the shiver that ran through her body.
"No one will have to know, my mouth will remain closed" he whispered again, licking this time behind her ear before starting to play with her lobe using his teeth "come on...professor".
Miss Y/l/n's eyes flattered closed despite the fact that she tried to fight her lust, but it was immensely difficult with Tom's large, long hands, which traveled slowly all over her body exploring and almost expertly touching the areas that would make her give in.
It was as if there was a study behind it, his hands traveled with the wisdom of someone who had studied but not yet experimented with practice, this however did not silence the voices telling her not to do it.
The struggle in her head continued and the more time passed the harder it was to resist, especially now that the young adult's body was right against her back and she could feel everything from his muscular chest to his abs to his hard cock against her lower back.
His warm breath was against her now cold neck, making her
shiver and sigh deeply memorising how Tom was touching her because it had been quite some time since she had fucked anyone.
Despite the urge boiling inside her, Y/n shifted, slipping from the wizard's strong grip, stopping his next movements by placing her hand on his smooth chest.
Tom's black eyes met her y/e/c's, his large hand with long, skinny fingers wrapped around her wrist, slowly moving it to his lips, his tongue tracing its way to the inside of her hand before stopping to allow their lips to meet in a strangely soft kiss.
Miss Y/n's tits were against Tom's muscular, pale chest, her hands buried in his black hair as the boy's arms were around her waist bringing her even closer to him.
Their lips moved slowly, both of them lost in the shared sensation, exploring one of the tastes after another. It all ended, however, when Y/n regained control, noticing the head of his cock brushing against her entrance almost as if teasing her.
Reason because she forced herself to pull Tom away from her before licking her lips, weighing up her various options, she wasn't going to go all through with one of her students, it wasn't even supposed to end up like this and yet there she was in a bath with the most talented student at Hogwarts trying to seduce her.
Tom moved closer just as her internal debate ended, it only took her hand to stop him and her gaze followed by a teacher's tone to make him obey "get out of the water, sit on the edge of the pool...this is to stay between us, it won't happen again and I don't want to talk about it ever again, do you understand?" she asked after a few seconds the last question before admiring how Tom's body, shifted and emerged from the water to position itself like she had asked.
And there he was, Tom Marvolo Riddle, in all his glory and nakedness, his legs spread for her and an intense gaze focused solely on her. The young professor had listened to several conversations of the horny schoolgirls going after Tom but had not at all expected what she had in front of her now.
That didn't frighten her though, they had already reached a moment of no return and her hands instinctively moved to the young man's muscular, hairy thighs; they traveled a slow, teasing pace that made all the remaining blood go right down into his now rock hard cock.
The wizard admired closely as Y/n's hands moved over his length, pumping him a couple of times using the water as lubricant before she moved her face closer and left little licks on the tip.
Their eyes met and her mouth continued to work on him, exactly as her hands did, causing small moans followed by hisses that came out of Tom's perfect lips.
His dark eyes had not yet moved away from her just as Y/e/c's were still focused on him, it was intense.
Her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the entire length a couple of times and then take him completely in her mouth, deep throating him without him expecting it.
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, Tom's thighs shaked slightly under her hands as sinful grunts escaped his lips; his hips began to move without even meaning to, his tingling hand lusting for dominance gripped her wet hair in a tight grip so that he could choose his movements.
His hips moved swiftly as he fucked her mouth mercilessly focused on achieving his first peak of pleasure, it was a almost suffocation feeling, Tom needed more, much more, but he had almost reached his peak.
The wizard only released his hold when he came, now leaving Y/n free to move as she wanted, despite this the young witch focused her attention till the end on his tip, sucking gently as her hands massaged his balls almost as if she was milking him.
As soon as she realized she had taken every last drop, Y/n slowly pulled away, swallowing it all while looking into Tom's eyes.
The young professor had to avoid him in order to reach the entrance to the prefects' door without falling for another attempt at seduction by the student.
The two looked at each other in silence, Tom wanted to say something but Y/n silenced him with one last kiss, followed by an elegant movement of her wand and three words "this stays here".
As soon as she finished speaking she walked out of the bathroom leaving Tom standing there all alone, looking at the door, his body now dry and his uniform back, it was as if nothing had happened, as if everything had only been in his head but the lipstick marks proved something else.
In fact they only confirmed the wonderful and unexpected sensations he had felt in those few minutes he had been with her, he knew that she had sensed that it was the first time he had done this kind of activity but he also knew that she wanted more, he wanted more, there was something more and Tom was going to take it at all costs.
Things had not begun and ended that night in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, the wizard would make sure of that and he would not put an end to what he had managed to get…what he had been craving for some time and now knew he could have.
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @lostmyremembrall, @pastelpiisces
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oepionie · 1 year
Text
HIS COMPLETE DEVOTION: THE AFTERMATH. malleus draconia
Synopsis: A week after the spell incident, Lilia tells Malleus about all the things he's done to you when he lost his memory. Horrified at his actions, Malleus locks himself away in his room to brood.
Character/s: Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Crack-Fluff, Malleus is really dramatic, Intense love, Lilia drags Malleus' ass, Lilia turns into his true form, Malleus has gargoyle bedsheets lol, Flustered Malleus, Malleus kneels for u
A/N: Might have went a little bit overboard here loll, I just read a bunch of sagau zhongli fics and it inspired me eheg
WordCount: 800+ | 💌Masterlist | PART I HERE
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Malleus Draconia was in love with you. There was no doubt regarding that.
Every bit of your affection, no matter how small or big makes Malleus melt. In the aftermath of your love, he has trouble keeping his heart still as it bounces and dances around his chest. His face blossoms a bright red and a wide silly smile remains on his face for hours, leaving his cheeks burning and strained.
The dragon fae always clung onto you, standing by your side like a devoted knight - so vigilant and attentive that it would put his own retainers to shame.
Though, why is it now that you find yourself eating lunch all alone, with your dragon nowhere to be found?
Well…after the incident last week, Malleus dared not to show his face to you.
Lilia had told him about everything that had transpired that day and oh, how he hated to hear about the sorrow of his cherished treasure. It trod on, tore at, and beat at his poor heart. Even more so once he found out he was the cause of your pain. Such an unpardonable act that Malleus, overcome with grief, shut himself in his room.
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't visit him. Every time you entered the area around his room, a push of wind magic would always carry you away; it was gentle enough to never hurt you but firm enough to never let you get past.
After days of trying, you decided to simply give Malleus his space, hoping that he wasn't taking it too seriously…
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Guilt.
Such a twisted, dreadful feeling which gnawed at his bones and mauled his conscience.
Malleus sits in his bedroom, glaring down at his feet. After locking himself up, the young prince refused to speak to anyone and only came out when it was time for class.
When he was in school, he avoided you like the plague; immediately teleporting away as soon as he caught sight of your figure.
It was safe to say that he wasn't taking the situation so lightly and after a week of his dramatics and Sebek's mourning, Lilia eventually had to step in.
"No!" Malleus growls, tugging his gargoyle themed blanket away from Lilia's grasp and burying his head underneath it.
Lilia sighs and yanks it away from him once more, glaring at Malleus with a stern look. "Do you plan on going about the entire month sulking like this?"
"Yes. Yes I do." Malleus huffs, a puff of fire floating into the air before dissolving into ash and smoke. He turns his back to his guardian and shuts his eyes tight. "Leave."
Silence falls over the room as the two stay still. Lilia squints his eyes, slowly rolling the sleeves to his shirt up. His hair grows, draping over his shoulders and cascading down his back. Malleus turns to glance at him, eyes ripping wide open as he recognises Lilia in his true form.
"I may be old but that doesn't mean I've grown brittle." Lilia rushes forward, tackling Malleus in a vice grip. The dragon writhes in his arms but Lilia's hold doesn't falter one bit. He carries the wriggling fae out the dorm, along a path Malleus was all too familiar with.
"Now, let's go to that darling treasure of yours."
Despite Malleus' protests, the bat fae dragged the poor withered dragon all the way to your dorm.
Once they arrived, Lilia made sure to switch back to the form that you were familiar with.
Unsure of what to do with himself, Malleus stood uncomfortably behind him as the bat fae rapidly knocked on the old rickety wooden door.
There you appeared, disheveled and drowsy with Grim hanging off your shoulder. For the first time in weeks, Malleus' eyes fell upon your figure, and his heart hammered heavily in his chest. Lilia pushed him towards you. "Go on Malleus, I believe you wished to tell them something."
You looked up at him in anticipation, a bright smile on your face. With a trembling sigh, Malleus strode forward.
"I-I'm sorry." He dropped to his knees and bowed deeply, his head striking the ground hard. His shoulders were locked and tensed in a straight line, posture stiff and rigid.
"Malleus!" You gasped, rushing forward. Despite your hasty attempts to urge him to stand, he remained anchored to the ground like stone.
The dragon fae grabbed onto your ankles, his forehead pressed against your feet. "My treasure, I a-am so sorry."
"Oh Malleus, love, you're being a bit too dramatic. It's okay." You shushed him, stooping down to take him into your arms.
Almost immediately, he melts into your embrace, curling up against your chest. His head lay against your shoulder, an arm draped over his eyes. Apologies flowing out of his mouth in an uncommon display of vulnerability.
Sighing, you cast a glance at Lilia who only shrugged as if to say 'Well, he's your problem now.'
"I'll make it up to you." He whispers, throat burning after his numerous confession of guilt. You smiled, burying your face into his hair. "I know, Tsunotarou, I know."
" Though I must say…" You trailed off, and Malleus peered up at you, his eyes wide with curiosity. "That locket you had of me was really lovely."
Malleus coughed, his cheeks turning slightly red. "I hadn't intended for you to ever see it."
"Khee hee~ Ah yes, the locket." Lilia sniggered, grinning impishly. "Prefect, did you know he had a box of true gold specifically custom made for it?"
"Lilia."
"He was so protective of it, always growling if someone dared to touch what was his."
"Lilia, please."
"There was even an enchanted silk pillow! He would always place the box atop it. I'm quite sure both the box and the pillow were embedded with a protection spell.
"I beg of you, stop."
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Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
Taglist: @keedas , @spadecentral , @crypticbibliophile ⤷ (want to be added?)
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giyuji · 2 years
Text
KING-SIZED — 𝐤𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢
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pairings. keigo takami (hawks) x reader.
synopsis. your tiny apartment didn’t possess over a huge bed, not one that’s big enough to accommodate you, your boyfriend and his wings. so, the only solution? getting a new one for him, of course.
cw. none! just tooth-rotting fluff.
author's note. hawks deserves a hug. and a kiss. and just—somebody who takes care of him :( i'll do it for free, too
wc. 1.7k.
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There were very few things in the world that you loved more than your charming menace of a boyfriend. 
Your darling boyfriend, who took the time to ask you how your day went, every time without fail, nevermind the tiredness he felt. Your darling boyfriend who spent what little free time he had helping you with dinner, despite your protests for him to go lay down. Your darling boyfriend, who worked himself to the bone, and endured the brunt of his fatigue by himself whenever his shifts ended��always feigning nonchalance as he stumbled into your living room.
You didn’t know why he did it, didn’t know why he always chose to come to your place instead of his own. You were very well aware of the apartment he owned, the big, king-sized bed he hardly ever slept in. Still, he insisted on coming to yours once he finished his patrols. To your apartment, where a bed that could hardly be classified as a queen-sized one was waiting for him.
It’s because your place is closer!
You recognised his words as a lie immediately. However—it was an oddly endearing lie, so you chose to let it slide. For some reason, Keigo adored sharing your smaller bed with you, to have you close to him, to feel you cuddle into him as you ushered him to get closer so his larger frame wouldn’t fall off. And, well, if you were being honest…so did you.
The lovesick bubble you wrapped yourself in each night popped when you caught sight of his wings on a particular evening. His pretty, fiery red wings laid mostly on the ground as he slept. On the ground. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, as the bed was barely big enough for the two of you—let alone for the two of you and the entirety of his wings. 
That didn’t mean you weren’t bothered by the sight, however. Then and there, you decided that it simply wouldn’t do.
Keigo over-worked himself—day in, day out, and he started the cycle back up again the day after with the same smile on his face. So, you settled on taking a page out of his book for the next few weeks. 
Aside from your regular job, you took on a couple of extra side-jobs; small things—such as babysitting your neighbour’s kids, or walking their dogs. And right before the next month was over, you’d gathered enough money for a big, king-sized bed you knew for sure would be big enough for your boyfriend. You’d looked at him often enough to know his wings and their size by now.
Yet, even though you’d chosen the right size, it seemed your newest purchase wasn’t as compliant as you’d hoped it would be. Its next move was rolling the screwdriver you were using far and far away from you and off its frame. With widened eyes, you reached for it, cursing under your breath as it rolled out of your hold. You couldn’t exactly move much, as you were pretty sure the structure would fall apart if you did.
With bated breath you watched as it rolled closer to the edge, fingers twitching to reach it but never quite covering the distance. You sighed in absolute relief when a single, red feather drifted in front of you and caught it right before it fell off. The joy was short-lived, as your relaxation caused your posture to change, and thus a few of the screws fell from the frame you were holding upwards. You watched in disappointment as the planks fell down, not even bothering to catch them.
“So…whatcha doing?”
A frustrated groan left you, and you kicked one of the wooden beams aside in annoyance. With a pout on your lips, and your arms crossed over your chest, you sought out your boyfriend’s pretty golden eyes.
“Battling IKEA,” you huffed, sighing as you watched another screw fall from the barely-standing build. You pinched the bridge of your nose, shaking your head with closed eyes to compose yourself. “And losing.” The baby feather put the screwdriver down next to you, earning the first smile of the evening from you. “Thank you.” 
“No problem,” Keigo answered. There was a newfound pep in his step as he walked towards you, a heavily amused smile gracing his mouth as he sat down on the ground in front of you. “Now, mind telling me why I saw a couple loading our old bed into their car?” 
You shrugged. “I sold it to them.” 
“Why?” 
“Wait—Since when was it our bed?” 
His cheeks flushed at your words, the bridge of his nose covered in a soft pinkish colour. “Don’t change the subject,” he grumbled, a hint of a pout slowly fighting its way onto his lips. “Why did you sell our bed?”
“Because I got a new one?” 
Keigo looked at you; he wasn’t as amused at these antics of yours, not like he was a few seconds ago. He sighed. “And why did you get a new one, sweetheart?” 
You briefly contemplated whether you should give him the real reason for your new piece of furniture, or if you should mutter a quick-witted lie. The decision was quite easy. He looked at you, head tilted to the side, wings partly on the ground and as fluffy as ever whenever he was around you. Both legs spread out while he leaned back on the palms of his hands—the look in his eyes made you melt, and suddenly lying to him was never an option to begin with. 
Taking a final glance at his wings, you sighed. “We didn’t fit on the other one,” you admitted. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Was all of this ridiculous? Did you overreact? Fuck—did he think it was weird? 
Keigo frowned; that cute little crease between his brows appeared again. “Huh? What do you mean? We fit in there just fine.” 
You hummed in disagreement, and glanced at his wings again. “No. We didn’t,” you grumbled. “Half of you laid on the ground every night.” 
It was clear he didn’t grasp what you were hinting at immediately. All expressions were given free reign as soon as he stepped into your home, as soon as he was shielded from the outside world, and thus it was remarkably easy for you to notice the whirlwind of emotions he went through in approximately 0.2 seconds. Confusion, curiosity, realisation, adoration.
“What do yo—oh,” he whispered in the last part, voice softening as the thought settled in. His eyes softened considerably, wings and shoulders sagging as he scooted closer to you. “You got a new bed because…because my wings laid on the ground?” 
“Mhm.” 
“…Why? Why—why would you do that?” 
The waver in his voice tugged on your heartstrings, and you smiled at him. You brushed a few locks of his hair out of his face, cupping his cheek with one of your hands shortly after. He melted into the touch almost instantly, and brought both of his hands up to engulf yours as a measure to keep it there.
“Because I wanted to,” you admitted, voice kind and gentle. You didn’t miss the way he swallowed down a lump in his throat. “You work really, really hard, and for some reason you insist on coming here instead of your own apartment—” 
“This is closer!” 
“—Yes, yes, whatever you say, babe.” He pouted at your disbelief, and you chuckled briefly before getting serious again. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone and he blinked rapidly at the feeling. “I just figured that…if you were going to come here after working all day, you at least deserved a comfortable bed to come home to.” 
Keigo didn’t respond instantly. He sat in your hold a bit longer, nose twitching as he sniffed. “Thank you,” he mumbled after a few seconds. Turning his face, he nudged the palm of your hand with his nose before pressing a soft kiss to it. “Thank you. That’s—Thank you. You’re…I love you. Very much.” 
You supressed a giddy smile. Making grabby hands at him, he took the hint, and the both of you leaned in. He captured your lips in a kiss quickly, having done so countless times before. 
“I love you, too.” You mumbled in-between the kiss. “Very much.” You added, and he smiled against your lips, bumping your noses together. With a sharp intake of breath, you placed your other hand on his other cheek, turning serious all over again. “Now, help me assemble this bed before midnight. I get cranky when I’m not in bed by then.” 
Keigo laughed. It was airy, and light, and full of joy as he nodded. “Of course, baby,” he sighed happily, pecking your lips again. “‘M on it.”
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+ + + BONUS!
It was midnight. You’d finished it just in time before your inevitable grumpiness arrived, though, with your current view, you felt it rising up all the same. Blinking at the red, shiny feathers, you frowned. They were on the bed now, but that was about it. You could still see them—meaning they weren’t covered underneath the cosy blanket the two of you huddled under. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Having sensed your disdain, Keigo mumbled a quick check-up. His voice was groggy, still heavy and thick with sleep as he was nearing the start of his own slumber. 
“…They don’t have a blanket,” you murmured into his shoulder. At this time of day, you were far too tired to start another guessing game. “It’s—It’s too small.” 
“Hm?”
“Your wings.” You whispered; frowning and chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. “The blanket is too small when it’s all bunched up around us.” 
“‘S alright,” he breathed out. Moving a bit before pushing you tighter against him, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His arms squished you against him, and he huffed in amusement at your squeals of protest. “‘S alright, baby bird, you don’t need to get a new blanket, too. I’m perfectly happy like this.” 
You didn’t respond. A part of you felt challenged at the sight, a part of you felt irritated at seeing a shimmer of failure. You still hadn’t fully achieved what you’d set out to achieve. 
“Baby bird?” Keigo called out, opening an eye to look down at you. “You don’t have to buy another blanket. Okay?” 
Eventually, after a few seconds of silence, you sighed. “Fine. Okay. I won’t buy you another blanket.” 
He smiled, closing his eyes again, and kissed your temple. “Good.” He mumbled against your skin. “Now, go to sleep.” 
“Mhm,” you hummed against him. “Good night, Kei.” 
“Good night, sweetheart.”
…You were definitely getting him that blanket.
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probably-writing-x · 1 year
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Eyes On You
Summary: You were practically the princess of Outer Banks, everyone knew it. So, when you started dating Rafe Cameron, to say people had something to say about it would be an understatement. And there was only so much of it that the two of you could take.
Warnings: Some sexual references, cursing, Rafe being a protective bf
Author’s Note: Saw a tiktok about male book characters leaning against doorways and it inspired this entire story :) Enjoy and send in any requests you may have
Not my gif
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“Babe can you help me?” Rafe calls out to you from the bedroom, where you’re fixing up the last of your makeup, there’s a stress to his voice.
“What have you done?” You laugh, setting down your mascara and walking across to the bedroom.
He was stood in front of the mirror with his bowtie dangling around his neck, clearly having given up on the fight against it.
“I hate these things,” He grumbles, dragging a hand over his hair.
“Leave your hair alone,” You hit his hand away, “Come here.”
You fold the silky material pieces over themselves until it resembles the bow shape and fixing it in the centre of the top of his shirt.
Rafe lifts his hands up over yours and pulls both of them to his lips to kiss you, “What would I do without you?”
You hum with his contact as he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hands three times. The two of you hadn’t managed to get out of going to one of your family’s events - full of people that thought the world of themselves, and had enough money in the bank to act like they could prove it. Rafe, of course, would be by your side, as much as he hated these things too. It was all shaking hands and comments on how you were ‘too good for him’ - though your parents and their friends thought of you as too good for everyone. You’d picked out a pale blue suit for Rafe, one that brought out a brightness to his face, and you were wearing a navy dress that matched the dark blue of his bowtie.
“You look beautiful,” He comments, leaning down slowly to press a kiss to your lips, delicate as if he’s worried he’ll damage the art in front of him.
“Thanks babe,” You smile, fixing the messier strands of his hair, “Are you ready to go?”
“Am I ever?”
~~~
Inevitably, the two of you were late by the time you both walked in. There were people spilling all over the ballroom venue, faces you recognised from growing up amongst faces around others that your parents were likely trying to impress. Everyone that saw you greeted you warmly, telling you that you had grown up too fast. With each person that you had to force pleasantries with, Rafe could see you getting more and more tense. He was sure this kind of night was your idea of hell.
“I’ll go and get us some drinks, darling,” He mentions, placing a hand on your back, “What do you fancy?”
“Anything, I don’t mind,” You smile at him and he squeezes your hand before disappearing through the crowd.
You were in conversation with your old neighbours, who were telling you about a new holiday home they’d just bought, and you’d completely lost interest.
“So, you and Rafe are still together?” The woman asks, raising her brows just momentarily.
“Yeah, over a year now,” You smile, even the mention of his name making your stomach flip like it did when you’d first got together.
“Are you sure, honey?”
The question makes your heart sink, and you lose your words.
“I’m just not sure if he is the one for you,” She sighs, as if her words are said with good sentiment.
“I’m sorry?”
“We just want what is best for you,” She squeezes your arm and you pull away from her touch quickly.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You manage to force out, your eyes flicking across the room. You don’t find Rafe amongst the faces but you know you need to get away.
So often people tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t enough for you, as if he were a boy damaged beyond repair and he would never be the boyfriend they expected you to have. They didn’t see the way he remembered all of the little details you told him, how he bought you flowers whenever he felt like it, how he made sure you knew he loved you every day. He was everything, even if they couldn’t see it.
~~~
Rafe was caught in conversation with two of the boys you’d gone to school with. They reminded him of himself from a few years ago, before he’d met you and before he’d changed. They spoke of nothing if they weren’t bragging, finding a way to mention their wealth or their status or their girls at every chance. The latter was their current topic.
“Listen, she was fit, but like nothing more than that,” One of them shakes his head, taking a long sip of his beer.
Rafe was hovering awkwardly between them, your champagne glass in his hand still waiting to be able to get it to you. He had to make a good impression at these things, he knew what they all thought of him otherwise.
“I mean, come on,” The boy scoffs, “I’m not tying myself down unless shes at least an eleven out of ten.”
Rafe is holding back a wince when the attention turns to him.
“Cameron, you still with (Y/N)?”
He pinches at the lobe of his ear, avoiding the anger that would normally course through him, “Yeah, yeah, still together,” He nods.
“Fuck, man, I don’t know how you do that shit,” One of the boys laughs, “One woman?”
“Oh, come on, this is Rafe Cameron, there’s no way he’s only fucking her.”
Rafe can’t do it for much longer, his grip tightens around the glass of champagne as if it was grounding him to you.
“Yeah, (Y/N)’s fit as fuck but she was always uptight in school, she’d never let anyone fuck her.”
Rafe sets the champagne glass down on the table, “Alright, fuck you,” He swings back his arm and launches a fist towards the jaw of the boy talking before anyone has a chance to stop him, before he can find any justification to not do it.
He pulls his hand away and the other boys scramble to their friend like a litter of lost puppies, pulling him up to stop him from stumbling over. Rafe shakes off his hand and picks up the champagne once again, directing himself towards the door before any of them can get a hand to him.
He pushes his way through a few more people until he gets to a clearing nearer the back of the room, where you were leaning against a doorframe, your back to him. Rafe comes up behind you, a hand over his head to grip the top of the doorframe as he towers over you from behind. You turn over your shoulder and instantly brighten at the sight of him.
“There you are!” You beam, a smile creasing the sides of your eyes.
“Here you go, m’lady,” He swings his arm around to bring the drink to you and you instantly notice the blotchy redness on his hand, the kind that is quickly turning into a bruise.
“Rafe, what happened?” You grip his hand gently before he can pull it away from you.
He sniffs and clears his throat, “Those assholes from your school.”
“Okay.”
He’s surprised at first, no anger in you for him getting into fights, no worry about the people he’s hit, no ‘please don’t do that again’.
“Okay?”
You hum and lean back a little into his chest, lifting the flute to your lips and finishing the glass.
“Alright who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?” He quips, bringing a hand up to massage into your shoulder.
“I hate it here,” You sigh, setting the glass down and leaning even further into him.
He rubs at your skin more, leaning down to press a kiss in the spot, his lips lingering before he perches his chin on top of your shoulder, “Do you want to get out of here?”
You nod, turning your head to kiss his temple, the sort of contact that makes him smile like a boy with his first crush.
“Let’s go home,” He drops his hand to lace his fingers with yours, the other hand falling to the bottom of your spine to guide you through the crowd.
“Wait a second,” You mention quickly, ducking out of his grip when you spot a waiter carrying a fresh bottle of champagne across the room of people.
You swipe it from him, spilling some of the golden liquid over your hand, hurrying back over to Rafe.
“What the-“ He laughs, looking at you with an admiration in his eyes that he never lost.
You grab his hand tightly in yours and pull him through the crowd, both of you pushing past bodies like they weren’t even there. You know they’re all looking at you, like you were the King and Queen’s princess, looking at Rafe as if he were the boy that corrupted you. But you don’t care. His hand is in yours and there’s enough adrenaline pacing through your veins for you to just keep running with him.
When the two of you break through to the outside, Rafe spins you into his arms, wrapping his grip around your waist and pulling you into him. You’re both breathless, a wildness to your eyes as if you were two escaped convicts. He brings a hand up and cups your cheek, kissing you with pressure like he’s forcing you to remember that he loves you. That, in that moment, he doesn’t think he’s ever loved you more.
And as much as all of those guests’ eyes had seemed to be burning into you all night, there was nothing else that mattered when Rafe’s eyes were on you, telling you everything that his words never could.
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lokisgoodgirl · 5 months
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Comfort & Joy: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]
The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (9) Roll up, roll up for the Stark Christmas Jamboree. Where candied nuts and cunning plans both come with an extra sprinkling of festive sweetness. (w/c 7.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Humour, Asgardian lore, fluff, all the feels. Smut references. A/N: This is the final final edition of The Lakes.
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“Remind me, what named day is this in your charming yuletide festivities?” Loki inquired as you stepped out the revolving door of the Tower.
Charming. You smiled.
Last year it would have been any number of synonyms for stupid. You could hear them, see his lips curling the words from memory. Gratuitous. Senseless. Superfluent. Foolish.
But that was your problem, you recognised, not his.
“I don’t think it has one officially,” you shivered, nestling your chin deeper into the scarf. Fuck, it was cold today. “But I call it Christmas Eve, Eve.”
You sighed, watching crowds of the general populous making their way in shuffling merriment towards the Christmas market. No, not market. Festive Jamboree.
Tony had taken it upon himself to create a mini-wonderland right outside the Tower for one day only, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital.
A ferris wheel rose at the end of the cordoned street, every carriage packed. The smell of hot-dogs and caramelised almonds filled the air, old-time speakers tied to high lamps blaring Andy Williams at a volume that couldn’t be code compliant. “Lighten up, darling” Loki chirped as a gloved hand laced with your own. You turned to him, forcing a smile through the nerves. He looked phenomenal. A high collared coat of darkest green framed his cheekbones, pink tipped in the sudden chill. The one you’d seen in the window. You couldn’t resist. But when it came to Loki, what else was new?
He’d popped the collar, loose strands of onyx hair tumbling over the thick of his scarf. The one you’d bought him, of course.
Against the pale of his skin, dark brows peaked above a lowered fan of lashes while his gaze lingered on your intertwined digits. He raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it firmly.
“This will be fun,” he murmured against your glove with a knowing glint. “Have you planned...something?” you laughed. “Other than the thing.”
The nerves were fading, finally. He pressed his free hand against his chest in mock-hurt. “You wound me with your suspicions, madam” he purred, playful insolence thick in his tone. He sniffed, raising his chin. “I am merely imbibed with the spirit of the season.” Mid-giggle, your whole body rocked forwards as two hands shook your shoulders from behind. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve, sister!” Thor boomed in your ear. There was ringing. Thor looked good. He smelled good. And blessedly for now at least, there were no crumbs in his beard. “And to you, brother” Loki said, smile widening.
Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki’s jovial demeanour with suspicion. “And to you, brother-” he rumbled. His interest was piqued. “What has my Sponge of a sibling in such a buoyant mood this fine December day?” “It’s Scrooge,” you corrected, grinning. Thor grinned back as all eyes fell on your lover.
Loki gaped, darting his gaze between you both.
“Scrooge?!” he scoffed incredulously. “In past years, perhaps. Yet despite your attempt to churl me, I shall take it as a compliment,” Loki said, squeezing your hand, “for I too was visited by three spirits and thus...changed forever.” Thor frowned, “spirits, says you?” “Yes, brother. Yourself, Rogers, and the spectre of that ghastly reclining chair.”
Thor chuckled, before being distracted by something deeper within the crowd. Or someone. He cleared his throat. “I must to the candied nuts, brother” he muttered formally.
Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers tip the nuts-vendor a quick salute as he nestled a fresh bag in his hand like a hamster. Heat steamed from the opening, wafting through frosty air. “Oh yes brother,” Loki drawled with equal gravitas. “The nuts will not eat themselves.” Thor squinted as a restrained smirk danced at Loki’s dimples. “Indeed,” the blonde replied, clearing his throat. “I shall see you at the bandstand anon.” And with a curt nod to you, he waddled hands in his pockets through the throng. You watched him go as Loki’s warm breath seeped down your neck, his mouth fastening to your pulse-point with a happy hum of pleasure. “You’re naughty,” you chided playfully. Loki nodded against your neck, the vibration of his agreement making you fizz. “And I have the knitwear to prove it,” he whispered. As you made your way through the crowd, Loki’s hand never left yours.
The two of you together were a familiar sight in Manhattan, and Avenger-fans on the whole had been beside themselves at news of your reunion. Confirmations had been slow. At you and Loki’s insistence, there had been no official statement. But the public had cottoned on eventually, with the help of the press.
Fans waited politely for pictures, nervously pulling at gloves and activating their cameras while you and Loki smiled and chatted. It was night and day from the way things used to be, while you stood on the sidelines amid a sea of bodies whipped into a frenzy by the god of mischief’s theatrical adulation.
Every so often, Loki would nuzzle your cheek; checking in. You’d squeeze his hand. One for all good, two for let’s go. You didn’t need that second squeeze today.
“With regret, we must depart for the afternoon’s questionable entertainment,” Loki announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, but he patted down the air.
“Please, join us-” he smiled to the crowd gathered around you, extending an arm towards the bandstand not thirty meters away. “Your participation will be most appreciated to drown out the subpar efforts of all of us. Truly, you will never look at us the same way, I guarantee it.” Despite having been erected overnight, the bandstand in the centre of the wonderland wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian England. Thin wrought iron pillars stretched upwards, twisting to an ornate canopy adorned with Christmas lights. Garlands wound up the pillars, twinkling sporadically. It was only 3pm, but the gathering darkness made them shine. A modest band of brass and strings had gathered beneath the canopy, instrument tune-ups peppering the chilly air.
And in front of it, in a semi-circle, microphones.
Steve stood to the side, handing booklets to a line of anxious looking avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Natas-
“I cannot believe we have to do this,” Bucky muttered ruefully as he threw his coat in the assigned box. “I can’t believe it. I actually can’t? Someone, fight me. Knock me out.” “We’re all in the same boat, Buck” Natasha lamented. She pulled at the baggy jumper hanging around her hips. Bucky looked down at his chest, pleading eyes meeting her stoic stare. “Fight me, Romanoff. Please.” “Don’t tempt me,” Natasha replied. Their jumpers were matching. Red, thick wool hiding any hint of the lithe muscle beneath. And stitched on them in winding, white-knitted lettering? Nice.
Your chest shook with the effort of holding in giggles. Even knowing what was coming, it hadn’t prepared you for the reality.
Looking around, you clocked each of your teammates in turn. Stark’s logic was thus – Avengers with a ‘harder’ reputation? Nice jumpers. And for those reputed to be on the softer side?-
“You’re wearing the wrong gosh-darn sweater, Laufeyson!” Steve hissed over your shoulder.
Both of you spun to face him. Steve’s arms were folded over the green version of the standard knit, the word Naughty emblazoned on his chest in white bobbling letters. Your shoulders were shaking now, too. “Don’t act like you're surprised, Rogers” Loki drawled. His coat hung off one long finger, before disappearing in a flash of seidr. “The public will not be fooled by Stark’s futile attempt at psychological subterfuge. I am simply getting ahead of the inevitable Tumblr edits.”
Steve’s chin snapped towards you. “Did you know about this?” he piped, flustered. You raised your eyebrows guiltily, making Steve’s hands fly in the air. “Perfect. Just heckin’ perfect. Why I outta-” “What seems to be the problem?” Thor’s voice boomed from behind. The words were accompanied by crunching, flecks of almond littering his green jumper like snow. You and Loki parted, making a four-square shoulder to shoulder and shuffling further towards safety from prying ears. “Laufeyson’s taken it upon himself to go against the agreed sweater-allocation and wear a Naughty, that’s what-” Steve bubbled bitterly.
Crimson had begun to creep up his cheekbones. A vein in his neck throbbed. Thor threw his head back with an almighty roar of laughter. Several almonds bounced from the bag in his hand from the force.
“Come now, Rogers ” he managed through gasps of mirth. “What did you expect? Tis just a silly rule, who cares?” He tossed an almond in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It ricocheted off his eye. As Thor began blinking, Steve raised the clipboard in his hand. He tapped it violently. “I’m in charge of project managing this,” he hissed. “Laufeyson – change back to Nice.”
“Shan’t.” Loki quipped. Steve flushed deeper. “Laufeyson,” he warned. “Actually,” Loki started, enjoying the hushed tension. “I think you’ll find I am rather nice. You saw to that. So in truth, my sweater is fitting for this farce.” Steve’s eye began to twitch.
There was silence.
“Look at us, we’re like a little team," you offered, pointing to each of your green jumpers in turn. “Like the old days.”
Thor chuckled agreement as Loki and Steve stared each other down, a smile playing on Loki’s mouth that was irrevocably absent from the Captain’s. All four of you, it seemed, wore the Naughty uniform today. “In your case, as in mine, our knitwear reflects our essence perfectly my darling” Loki purred to you while his eyes narrowed towards a now vibrating super-soldier. “My naughty...naughty girl.” Steve sighed, hanging his head in resignation. “I told Tony this was a pooper of an idea,” he lamented. “It’s a disaster and it’s not even started.”
Thor’s hand clapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, lingering in a squeeze. Steve looked up at him, their eyes meeting.
The blonde god’s gaze widened slightly. You saw his fingers clench as his hand froze. In moments, he raised it; fluffing back his hair before sliding the hand into the pocket of his jeans.
“It’s only one sweater, Rogers” he muttered nervously. “Who cares?” Steve’s face fell, eyes darting to Thor’s crotch with a frown before rising back to his face. “I expected better of you, Odinson” was all he said before turning away.
Loki let out an exasperated sigh, elbowing his brother in the ribs. But Thor didn’t even flinch. His features had crumpled, spinning slowly as he watched the captain leave. His nuts? Forgotten.
But Steve didn’t see it. He was already making his way to the cluster of anxious looking Avengers huddled by the bandstand, examining carol music like they were Hydra files. “That could have gone better,” you whispered to Loki. The god frowned. His attempt to provoke his brother into siding with Rogers had not borne fruit. “Fear not,” Loki replied mysteriously as Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his jeans pocket. He tore off a chunk with a thousand-yard stare. Loki watched him in disbelief, continuing slowly. “There is still time to salvage this operation from the wreckage of my brother’s obstinance.” You gaze flitted between your team-mates. Bucky – Nice. Natasha- Nice. Clint – Naughty. Bruce – Naughty. Wanda – Nice. Sam – Naughty. Scott – Nice. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki swipe the half-ravaged chicken drumstick from Thor’s hold with hushed reprimand.
“What’s the big man wearing, I wonder?” you asked no one in particular. Loki snorted, “what else?” he said, nudging his head towards the Santa podium. There he was, Father Christmas aka. Tony Stark. Dressed in ray-bans and custom tailored suit, he looked suspiciously trim for a man in his position.
“Ah,” you smiled.
Loki’s smokey cologne filled your nostrils as he looped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “It seems he will not be joining us in this public embarrassment,” he smirked before placing a warming kiss on your lips. Then to the corner of your mouth, then to the angle of your jaw. “Places!” a peaky-sounding Steve shouted, tapping a baton against the music stand at the head of the choir section. There was a deep line between his eyebrows that was decidedly un-Christmassy. “Norns,” Loki muttered. His hands slid down your body, fingers weaving through yours. “Ready?” he breathed nervously, your foreheads touching.
“Are you?” you replied.
Loki squeezed once.
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The front row of the audience was made up of children, patients of the hospital. Cushioned folding chairs were laid in a half-crescent, two dozen of their smiling faces staring expectantly. Several of them sat in wheelchairs in the middle. Prime spot. One of them was wearing a pin-badge with Loki’s face on it. A young connoisseur, you thought with a smile.
Behind them, the growing crowd heaved. Sparkling Stark-Industries antlers filled your field of vision, handed out at the gates. There was a static hum, hundred of conversations and jokes and countless eyes inspecting each of you with anticipation. You could feel their excitement fizzing in the air while Bucky fidgeted beside you. Thinking about his solo you had no doubt. You rubbed his back sympathetically. He offered a weak smile of thanks. Steve tapped the pedestal again. “Avengers,” he announced with authority. The hushed whispers and small waves of the team to the crowd came to a halt. “One..two..” he mouthed the three.
All of a sudden, the air came alive with the sound of ten voices, stronger and louder and more melodic than you had expected. Unbelievably, it sounded...good. Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,
The brass quintet upon the bandstand soared. Even in practice, it hadn’t been this good. A Christmas miracle, you thought as you belted out the words in some semblance of tune.
Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcile, Your gaze flickered to the other side of the semi-circle, catching Loki’s.
He held his carol-sheet diligently at arms-length, not looking at it. But rather, at you.
He winked.
Steve had rightly separated you. The chances of him squeezing your ass in front of the sick children was just too high. What if one of them goes into shock, Steve had said. But in truth, it was the deep, soulful magnetism of Loki’s singing voice that posed the real risk. If you were standing beside him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain yourself. You winked back. Beside Loki, Thor craned towards the paper his brother held.
Thor had memorised every carol. Every modern classic. Everything in the repertoire. You knew that for a fact.
For the last two weeks, ever since your conversation in the common room – you’d been able to hear him before you could see him. And not in the usual way. You’d become accustomed to hearing his theatrical rendition of Silent Night bouncing its ironic way around the tile of the gym, the hallways, seeping through floors. And what he lacked in vocal melody, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.
No - in truth, as the God of Thunder stared at the music sheet, he was avoiding Steve’s appraising stare which darted to each of them in turn. Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies,
Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend, you focused back on the conductor. The crimson flush of his ears had ebbed. He was beginning to smile. Well, a little.
Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,
The carol continued. And then the next, and the next. Collection buckets that were being passed amongst the crowd began to overflow, the spectators indulging in a mix of swaying, singing, dancing.
With every song that passed, Bucky became more nervous, his voice a little higher.
You only faltered once during Winter Wonderland when you made the mistake of looking at Loki again. At some point, he had raked his hair back. Pink peaked at his cheekbones, his hip slouched casually, tapping his foot in time. One side of his sweater was concealed in the waistband of his dark chinos. A french-tuck, if you weren’t mistaken. It highlighted the sluttish creases that strained at his crotch.
Dark curls fell around the green knit, half-lidded eyes following each word as he sang it. You would fuck that sweater right off him later. Or maybe, he could keep it on...you mused. His smooth baritone slid over the words like a sled in morning’s first snow, to face unafraid, the plans that we made, walking in a- He looked up with a knowing side-smile in your direction. A sharp elbow in the ribs from Wanda made you realised you had lost your train of thought. Your mouth was open, but no words were coming out. “-winter wonderlaaaand,” you squawked out of time.
Steve’s eyes snapped to you, brow arched. He couldn’t complain, not really. Considering how well it was going. A brief erotically-charged moment of disassociation was the least he could expect, surely. As the song drew to a close with a flourish of conductor Rogers’ arms, the crowd burst into applause. With every passing number, it had become louder. You weren’t sure if there were more people, or if the mulled wine had been refilled. Steve spun to face the audience, growing darkness making the warm glow from fairylights create a halo around his blonde hair.
“And now...a very special treat,” he announced mysteriously to the expectant crowd. “Something very, very special indeed. I’ve heard it in rehearsal and golly, he’s just spiff.” Bucky’s feet began scuffing on the ground. He’s going to do a runner, you thought. But thankfully for Bucky, he had nothing to worry about.
The plan was for Barnes to perform a rousing rendition of Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Olivia Holt. Or Michael Buble, depending on the demographic. Backed up by the jingling ooo’s and aaa’s of the team of course. But despite Barnes initial enthusiasm, the thought of it had filled him with more horror each passing day.
Steve had been very excited about the whole affair. A grand finale for his orchestral debut, such as it was. And Bucky hadn’t the heart to tell him. “Buck?” you muttered out the corner of your mouth. You glanced at him, trying to be covert. He was sweating, staring blankly ahead. “Buck?” “Yuh.” Barnes mustered quietly as Steve began to move a microphone between the sick kids. Their little voices made your heart flutter. But you had a job to do. The weight of Loki’s concentration radiated from across the space between you. He was watching you and Bucky, completely still aside from one twitching finger and the small smile flickering at his dimples. You cleared your throat, leaning to the side towards the soldier. “In a few seconds you might feel a bit funny-” “I already feel a bit funny doll,” he murmured bitterly. “Yeah but...well, you’ll see. Just don’t freak out.” “Freak-what-now?” “Out-” “-Yah I got that-” he snapped, trying to turn towards you and failing. He tried to twist, but his shoulders wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” “Buck?” you repeated slowly. He met your eyes, the first shadows of fear creeping in. “When Steve calls you up, just shake your head. You have a little bit of movement in your neck. And you can talk a little. Just a little so I can check you’re okay. Okay?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in a grimacing caricature. You decided to assume that meant it was totally cool. “Who are hoo hurkin’ hor!?” he hissed in a wreckage of lisping syllables. His shoulders shook ever so slightly back and forth like a wound-up nutcracker as he tried and failed to move his feet. “Oh, no-” you said, realising he thought you’d been turned. “No, it’s just Loki’s magic. Don’t worry.” Bucky’s eyes widened.
‘Please welcome-’
“You’re off the hook with the song?” you chirped quietly, hoping it had the intended effect. Barnes stopped struggling. ‘-my friend, James Buchanan Barnes!’ A round of deafening applause snapped you from your bubble. Steve stood back at his podium, baton poised and ready for the band to begin.
Alongside the other Avengers, except Bucky, you bent down and picked up a sleigh bell carefully placed at your feet. You could beat someone to death with this thing, you thought as the chrome bells jingled beneath your hand. Wanda shot you a knowing glance, holding in a laugh.
The applause ebbed as James Buchanan Barnes remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted side to side across the waiting crowd. He shook his head very, very slowly. Showtime, you thought. “I’m afraid he has a bit of stage-fright,” you explained loudly. Collective disappointment hummed in the air. Steve’s face flushed an immediate shade of fuchsia, features hardening. You could see the cogs in his brain turn, a victorious glittering finale slipping from his grasp. His lips puckered, sucking in his cheeks. “I’m sure with a little...encouragement,” Steve said with a grimacing smile, raising his arms. The crowd roared back to life.
Bucky shook his head, a bit faster this time. Rogers head lowered, the breath from his sigh of exasperation clouding around his face. “If I may...” came Loki’s calm drawl from across the line-up. It dripped with sensual showmanship, treacleish tones sending an immediate flood of desire leaking into your panties.
Men and women in the front rows grasped at each other, gawking as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. It doesn’t get any easier folks, you thought with a smile. “My brother here knows the arrangement by heart,” Loki continued. “The lyrics and suchlike- I’m sure he would be happy to relieve Barnes of his duties-”
Mutters of excitement spread through the crowd like a mexican wave. Thor immediately turned his back to the audience, muttering something at surprisingly hushed volume in his brother’s ear. Loki listened diligently, holding up a penitent finger to the crowd. Steve’s arms were folded, storm-clouds knitting his brow. The foot had begun to tap. “My brother makes the valid point that of the two of us, I am the more musically inclined-” Loki began, gracefully gripping Thor’s shoulders and spinning him back to face the audience.
He brushed his brother’s collar, removing the last of the almond crumbs which resided there. A smile you knew all too well stretched across Loki’s lips as he looked deep into Thor’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But alas,” Loki purred, “I know not the words.” And perhaps these words will heal, Loki thought.
Loki held his breath as Thor began to gingerly shuffle forwards, tugging at the hem of his Naughty- emblazoned jumper. If father could see us now, Loki mused with a shiver as his brother gripped the microphone.
The crowd was beginning to stomp in appreciation, driven into a frenzy by the turn of events. Thor gave a small wave, bashful smile growing wider as people began to whistle. Loki turned his attention to Rogers, standing stiff and poised with baton in the air. He gave it a singular flourish, counting down from three. The crowd fell silent.
Loki saw the moment that Steve and Thor’s eyes met. It seemed to make every fairy bulb glow a little brighter in the darkness, sparks of hope spreading like embers from a fire, fluttering upwards in a night sky. Please brother, Loki pleaded silently as he raised his sleigh bell. Don’t arse this up. He suddenly wondered if Thor had felt this way during their time at the cottage. Loki supposed that he had. The brass band sprang to life, drums making an entrance. (Christmaaaas) Loki sang suddenly with the others. Nine voices harmonised as one.
Thor panicked, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “Snow is...coming down...uh-oof-” he spluttered, the cable tangling around his shoe. (Christmaaaaas) they sang, cringing slightly.
One line in, and Loki had almost lost all hope. “I'm watching it faaaaall” Thor crooned in bass – a little more tunefully. (Christmaaaas) “Lots of...very lovely and festive, yes – you...people aro-hounnnd,” (Christmaaaas) Loki sang, a smile beginning to spread as his brother came alive. He was pointing at the children, giggles and squeals peppering the air. The sleigh bell beat against his palm in time with his brother’s voice. “Baby, please come ho-hommmme,” Thor sang. Loki looked up, catching a look on your face that he hadn’t seen before. There was something different in that look. Some deeper variable of your smile that ignited his heart. But there would be time for overthinking it later, he surmised as his brother launched into the chorus with a glottal barrage of enthusiasm. For now, he had a love to nurture.
As Loki released his practised backing harmonies with the rest of the team, his brother got into his stride. ‘Owned the stage,’ Loki believed was the term. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Thor for the whole number. And if Loki didn’t know better, which of course – he did, he would swear that the captain was blushing.
(Please) they sang, sleigh bells jangling in time. “Pleaseee” echoed his brother. (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please Baby, please come hommmme-” You were surprised the operatic efforts of Loki’s brother didn’t make the ground shake.
The crowd were beside themselves, singing and jiving and waving their hands in the air. Thor worked the big crescendo, falling to his knees on the ground. His thighs spread, and whether it was his intention or not, you saw Steve grip the podium as his sensibilities buckled. Just a bit. The captain’s lips rolled together, stifling what you were sure was a bite. Thank god Thor wore the tight jeans today, you mused as you held the final note. With a swiping flourish of the conductor’s baton, the song was over. The cheers were deafening.
Thor stood and gave a small bow, sudden bashfulness descending. He waved, backing off to the side. His eyes met Steve’s, giving him an understated nod. The captain returned it slowly, a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. You watched him mouth two words, thank you, before Thor collided into Loki.
There was only one more song to go. You watched as Loki patted his brother’s shoulder across the semi-circle, pulling him into a hug. His face was alight with pride. It melted your heart. Despite the passing of the months, you couldn’t get over how different his smiles were now. Open. Genuine. Real. He’s finally opened his heart.
Have you? The thought came intrusively. Fairy lights shone all around as Loki tussled his brother’s hair. Thor couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Steve, you noticed. One more song. Rogers tapped the podium for the final time, raising the baton. The mellow sound of the saxophone twisted in the air, followed by strings.
“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know” you sang. Loki’s eyes met yours, sparkling with the glitter of mischief well done. “Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow,”
Bucky’s voice began to grow louder beside you. Released from his bodily prison at last. On cue, the Avengers began to peel away from the semi-circle, mingling with the crowd. Of course, any production orchestrated by Steve Rogers would end in a collective heart-melting communal singalong. Nothing else would do.
You watched as Wanda cosied up to a older man holding a mulled wine. He offered it to her immediately, stunned as he mouthed the words to White Christmas. She took it.
For your part, you made a beeline for the children sitting at the front of the audience, joining them in their sway. This whole thing was for them, after all. Loki’s shadow crept behind you, falling over the little girl with his face emblazoned on the pin badge.
“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write” Loki purred melodically as he lowered to his haunches. He paused, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. You watched her face, transfixed in joy as all her daydreams came true. The God of Mischief in person, his shadowed blue eyes looking into hers as though she was the only person in the world. That never gets old, either, you thought. He took her hand, pressing her tiny palm against his own. “May your days,” he sang with the crowd as his fingertips glowed green, “be merry and bright-” You couldn’t tear yourself from the look of absolute sincerity on his face. The utter determination painted on softened features to give this sweet girl a memory that would last for the rest of her life – however long that was.
Tears began to prick your eyes, seeing the crane of her neck upwards as her mouth fell open in wonder to the sky. Loki smiled. The green shimmer of his palm pressed to hers grew stronger. A glow flashed across the inky night, a billowing flourish of northern lights erupting over central Manhattan seeped in emerald and pinkish hues. They twisted in waves, swirling like a cloak which moved and rolled. It was alive. Loki's voice was quieter now, but no less beautiful as he sang. “And may all your Christmases, be-” “white,” the little girl gasped as snow began to fall. He did that, you thought in wonder as the crowd began to cheer, hugging each other. All sets of eyes were turned upwards to the sky. All but yours. They stayed fixed on Loki as the band played on amidst a flutter of newly swirling snowflakes. The man I love.
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“The tie, brother-” Thor muttered nervously, “is it..?” “It is well done, brother” Loki replied.
He dusted the lapel of Thor’s crushed velvet suit jacket a final time, a deep red the shade of fine merlot. The blonde released a trembling sigh, pulling at his fingers.
It was Christmas Eve. “Did you take the pharmaceuticals as instructed?” Loki enquired quietly as the elevator bounced to a halt. Thor nodded, patting his breast pocket. “The Tums? Yes. I have some on my person should the gaseous beast rear in my belly.” Loki nodded, satisfied. All the bases were covered. He had done all he could do. Now, it was up to Thor. Well, almost. It had been Loki’s idea for the brothers to dress together for the party tonight. And although his initial plan was to ensure that Thor was in peak condition for this eve of great import, Loki would admit that he had enjoyed it. Very much.
He wore a suit matching his brother’s in all but one detail. Loki’s was a crushed velvet of richest emerald green. Thin silk ties of gold adorned them both, fastened tight to the white shirts beneath with a pin bearing their respective emblems. Loki’s gift to his brother. The Asgardian Princes were showing up, tonight. Loki had made sure of it. Mother would be proud, he smiled as the elevator doors opened. Thor’s Yuletide offering to him had been a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory, but Loki paid it no mind. Gifts had never been his brother's strong-suit.
The rest of the team was already gathered by the Christmas tree, festive beverages in hand. A rolling cheer of greeting sounded as the duo strode towards the scene. Loki grabbed two glasses from the bar, passing one to his brother who necked it immediately. The dark god swirled his finger, refilling it. Loki felt his brows rise as he saw you, standing with one finger curled over your lip and an entirely too sensual smirk on your beautiful face. Beneath the perfectly cut trousers of his suit, Loki’s cock twitched. “You look handsome,” you coaxed quietly as he slid an arm around your waist, releasing a breath he’d been holding as a charged grunt of need.
“If we had gotten ready for tonight together,” Loki growled hot in your ear, “I fear that dress would never have been seen by another intact.” He pressed himself to you with a lingering kiss, an appreciative thrust of his hips rubbing against your own. He sighed into your open mouth, feeling your fingers dig into his shoulders. “God,” Natasha muttered with playful scorn under her breath, shuffling over to give you both space. “Can’t take them anywhere,” she murmured to Sam. Sam grunted in agreement.
“Presents!” Tony cried, clapping his hands together. “Party starts at eight, tick tock. Cutting it fine thanks to Paris and Nicole here.” He nodded in Loki and Thor’s direction. Steve checked his watch. “One cannot rush perfection, Stark” Loki smirked, releasing you. He watched as Rogers turned and adjusted a decoration on the tree. A plush rabbit wearing a santa hat. He was nervous. Tony knelt down, reading each gift tag and throwing it to the corresponding team-member. An oblong package whizzed past Loki's face, hitting his brother square in the mouth. 'Ooft,' Thor grunted as mulled wine slopped over the side of the glass. He stumbled, catching the present. Loki sighed, flexing his fingers and removing the stain from the front of his sibling’s suit. His brother nestled the empty glass dangerously within the tree branches to his side, inspecting the package. “Tis soft,” he muttered seriously. Across the circle, Loki saw Steve’s anxious gaze darting upwards at his brother in intervals. He noted you offer the captain a comforting nod while Thor tore at immaculate wrapping, ripping off the red ribbon and casting it aside. “Odin’s beard…” Thor gasped as the final sliver of paper fell away.
The team fell silent, looking up from their various body massagers and associated tat. He raised the item in his hands like Simba, slack-jawed in awe. The amazed god stared at it, eyes glossy.
Bruce frowned towards the blonde, peering over his glasses with an oversized posing pouch dangling from one finger. “Is that-?” “-A chicken drumstick?” Nat gawked. “Tis’ soft…!” Thor breathed in wonder, twirling it in his hands. He clutched it to his chest, eyes darting around the group. “A thousand thanks upon whomever bestowed this plush poultry treasure upon me,” he murmured, unable to resist holding the cushion proudly at arms length.
“Truly whomever be my secretive santa knows me to my core-” he continued dreamily, looking to each avenger in turn. They all looked befuddled. All except one. Thor’s brow creased, doing a double take as Steve’s cheeks plunged to new depths of crimson. “Rogers?” the blonde god whispered, so low only Loki could hear it. “Open yours Steve!” someone probed. Captain America still held his own package in his hands, toying with it gently.
Loki maintained his stoic expression, tossing his newly acquired bottle of luxury dry shampoo between his hands as he noted horror descend on his brother’s face. Never fear, brother; he thought smugly. Thor thought that Steve was about to open a small box containing yet another gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. But Thor was mistaken. Firstly, America’s saviour was lactose intolerant. Any internet search would have told him that. But despite his brother’s poverty of imagination where presents were concerned, his heart was in the right place. And for the cunning plan his love and he had concocted, there was only one gift which could bring the two men comfort and joy this Christmas. The truth. “Wait, wait-” Thor yelped as he took several panicked strides across the room. He knelt down to Steve’s level, placing his hands over the box that Steve had only just revealed through the wrapping. “It’s not-” Steve looked up, meeting the god’s panicked stare with practised indifference.
“Let me open it, will ya?” he said calmly. Thor sank back, head bowed as he waited for the axe to fall. With every careful unlatching of sellotape, Loki saw his brother’s heart sink a little more into his stomach. “Good gravy, what’s this? A pocket-square?” Thor looked up, regret turning to confusion as he clocked the handkerchief dangling between Rogers slender fingers. It was familiar, heavy with otherworldly silk and trimmed in thread ground from the most precious jewels of nine realms. On one side, deepest burgundy melting to crimson. But on the other, a rich navy which faded to shimmering azure.
Red and blue, not red and green.
The two colours met in the middle, threads glittering and overlapping like foam on the shore. They seemed to move. To change and ebb in the light like a living thing. And stitched across the handkerchief in the finest gold,
En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet. “Jeepers,” Steve muttered as he pulled the silk appraisingly through his fingers. “Someone definitely went over the twenty dollar limit.” Thor twisted his head incredulously towards his brother. Loki narrowed his eyes briefly in response, coupled with a small nod. The blonde god cleared his throat, finally catching up to the scenario unfolding before him. “A truth for a truth,” Thor breathed quietly, looking to the floor.
Steve’s concentration broke, as if suddenly seeing the person kneeling beside him on the floor for the first time. “P-pardon?” he stuttered. There was a sudden wave of green hued light through the room, reminiscent of the northern lights which lit up last night’s sky at the jamboree. “My apologies, Rogers…” Loki purred, stepping forwards. “I feel it best to inform you that the others cannot see nor hear us at this moment. As far as they are aware, you are both by the bar.” Loki nodded to where a slightly glitchy duo of duplicates stood behind Tony’s counter, clinking glasses of tequila. “Just myself, and she-” he nodded to you, “are witness.” “W-witness?” Steve spluttered, trying to stand and finding his knees starting to buckle. He looked at Thor, eyes wide. But all he found was softness. “Say the words, Rogers” Thor urged gently, gesturing to the handkerchief. Steve frowned, as the blonde god pulled the silk from his grip.
“A truth for...what was it? Truth for a truth?” Rogers asked, confused gaze darting between the men and you.
Loki clapped his hands together quietly. “Wonderful. You are now bound to the Accords of the Kerchief.” Steve frowned deeper. “Accords of the what-now?” “Kerchief,” Loki repeated formally, nodding towards the silk in Thor’s hand.
“You have both held it while the other spoke the words. And now, you must exchange the truth which causes the conflict between you – so that it may be resolved.” “And what if I don’t wanna?” Rogers sniffed, ears burning. He avoided Thor’s eyes. Loki released a whittling hum of discontent. “Unfortunately, failure to comply with the Accord of the Kerchief once initiated means instant smiting at the hands of Heimdall.” “Smiting?! You can’t be serious,” Steve scoffed with gusto. “Oh yes,” Loki nodded very seriously. Thor was nodding too. Also very seriously. “The penalties are most grave, Rogers.” “You tricked me,” Steve hissed to the blonde opposite him.
“Technically I tricked you,” Loki smirked apologetically. Rogers eyes narrowed in his direction, his lip trembling with what looked suspiciously like a swear. “Laufeyson,” he warned. Loki extended his forefinger, waggling it slowly side-to-side. “It will do not a jot of good, Rogers. You can thank my mother for this one. Now -” he gestured expectantly between the men. Thor took a deep breath. “Rogers-Ihavefeelingsforyouwhichcannotbeexplainedin,mere...Norns-” “Slow down, Thor-” you cooed gently.
Loki felt your hand slide into his. The nerves roaring in his belly soothed as your fingers interlinked. Despite maintaining an exterior of calm, he was terrified.
“Rogers,” Thor began again. Steve stared at him, transfixed. The aura of suspicion which surrounded him was fading, his stiff spine slackening as he looked at the god. Really looked at him. Saw him.
“I have feelings for you, which run deep to the heart of me. Which I cannot deny any longer. And if you feel that you cannot return my interest, then I shall understand. But I cannot spend another night unable to sleep, thinking that you believe me to hate you. And I apologise for my boorish behaviour these past months.” There was a pause as the god took a breath before continuing. “It was self preservation, you see-” Thor rumbled quietly, before sighing.
Steve looked down, still except for his fingers fidgeting with the wrapping paper in his lap. “That was well done, brother” Loki soothed. Thor shot him a sad smile. “I-” Rogers started.
The three of you held your breath. He looked up, just at the moment Thor curled a blonde tendril behind his ear. “I-” Steve choked, shifting on his knees. “It’s okay Steve,” you coaxed from the side-lines. It was the final nudge he needed. “I feel the same,” was all Steve said. He looked up, meeting Thor’s widening eyes. “Truly?” Steve nodded shyly. “I got myself in a tizz, about a whole bunch of things which weren’t really to do with you. Or….us. Not really,” he stammered. "It wasn't a mistake. And I was a dummy to say so." Loki felt your fingernails dig into his palm, both of you craning forwards as the captain continued. His voice was serious, a slight waver just audible between the words. “For a while, I thought you thought I was just some kinda tart. Some kind of loose Jack. Well lemme tell you Odinson, Steve Rogers is no one’s tart.” “You were never my tart, Rogers,” Thor uttered with gravitas, gently cupping Steve’s jaw. The captain’s eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into his hold. In seconds, the space between them closed. Rogers arms wrapped around Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s hands sliding around the captain’s waist. They fit together like a glove, Steve’s fingers winding in the god’s hair like a spindle through spun gold. Low mutterings of apologies cascaded from their lips between kisses, small gasps and sighs as unpleasantness of past months were forgotten. “What the fuck?” Tony spluttered. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed on the God of Thunder and Captain America’s passionate embrace. Hel, Loki thought with a shock. In all the excitement, he had neglected to hold the spell which shielded them. The kiss ceased, but still their arms were wound around each other. “Sheesh,” Wanda laughed, grabbing a bottle of the good stuff on her way past the bar. “It’s about time.” A murmur of agreement rolled around the room, a chorus of whoops sounding as each teammate stooped to offer a clap on the back to the newly outed couple. And for the first time in living memory, the colour of Thor’s cheeks rivalled his lover’s. “Maybe you guys won’t be the public embarrassment at parties anymore,” Nat quipped as she passed, tapping Loki and you lightly on the ass. Your laughter lit up Loki’s heart. And there was that look in your eye again, the one he couldn’t place yesterday.
‘We did it,’ you mouthed silently to him. Loki winked in response, just as the clock chimed eight. With a spring in his step, Loki made his way to the men kneeling awkwardly on the floor, noting their interlinked fingers with a wave of pride. He offered both hands, and each was taken. He heaved, pulling the men to stand and immediately into a hug.
“Merry Christmas, brother” he whispered in Thor’s ear. “Do you need the handkerchief back?” Thor muttered through a smile. “I am assuming the revised colours were only temporary.” Loki chuckled, pulling him and Rogers tighter. The captain released a strangled ooft as the air was pressed from his lungs.
“I think not that we need such a trinket to ensure our bond. Not anymore. Do you, brother?” Loki murmured into his sibling’s hair.
From deep within the embrace, in a hold which seemed to melt the centuries, Loki felt his brother shake his head.
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The party was a roaring success. And in the early hours of Christmas Day, you and Loki stumbled back to your apartment upstairs.
It was tiredness, mostly – and happiness. Strands of tinsel poked from Loki’s curls. You pulled one out with a giggle before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. “Finally,” he growled longingly as one slim finger toyed with the strap of your dress. Making quick work of pushing the velvet suit jacket from his shoulders, your fingers were halfway down his shirt buttons before you suddenly remembered- “-your present!” you cried, making Loki flinch back from where he had been buried in your neck.
“Can’t it wait?” he whined with feigned impatience. You waved an excited hand, scurrying to the cupboard. “No.” you shouted, head popping out behind the cupboard door. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.” Loki sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his beautiful face. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” he huffed as you ran and sat cross-legged on the bed.
You bounced on your knees while he swaggered over, undoing the last of his buttons with a knowing grin as he enjoyed the roam of your hungry stare across his skin. His carved abdomen flirted into view, obliques visible with each stride as the thick cotton folded to his movements. Loki sat on the bed, legs spread at the edge. His thighs creased the material in a way that made your mouth water.
He picked up the box, inspecting it before throwing you a lingering smoulder. “Mischievous elf,” he purred. “It’s just a small thing” you bargained, biting your lip as the first side of paper was torn. “I stole it, actually.” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Open it!” you said, chewing on your thumbnail as you watched his eyes drop to the package. Suddenly the god’s face changed.
Playfulness melted to a frown, his smirk fading. He swallowed thickly, staring down at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “-with the yellow bear,” he said quietly. “and the eyepatch!” you beamed. “I took it from the cottage. I noticed you always used it, I thought you might like the-”
Before you could finish, Loki’s hand had cupped the back of your head and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He bore down on you, the passion of his adoration sinking through the air and deep into your soul. Every circle of his tongue against yours, every caress of his breath as he repositioned his mouth over your own. He broke, panting. “Darling,” was all he could muster in thanks as he looked down at the ceramic with adoring eyes. You couldn’t stop smiling. His gaze snapped up, a click of his fingers making a perfectly wrapped present appear beside you on the bed. Golden paper shimmered before becoming whole. It was flat, and light. “No presents, huh?” you goaded sweetly. Loki smiled. “Open it,” he echoed. You complied. And inside the paper was a perfectly folded nightdress, adorned with autumnal leaves. The very same one. You hugged it to your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “I knew it was the one thing in that room you would miss,” he rumbled apologetically.
You reached for his hand, thumb running over the veins taut and thick on the back. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping alone,” you whispered with a smile. Loki placed his mug on the side table, before reaching for the nightdress and placing it beside. “God forbid,” he growled. Loki pulled another errant strand of tinsel from his hair, making it vanish. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered you back on the mattress, the pad of one fingertip tracing down your cheekbone. Memorising it.
The way he was looking at you, the silence that hung where words should be. You knew which words they were. He was holding back, even now as he inhaled against your pulse-point. Holding back for you. As dark curls blanketed your vision, you thought of the excitement in his voice as the cunning plan was formed. Of the way his fists clenched as he silently cheered his brother on, how his face fell when he thought that it was all for naught. How his eyes had swum with joy as it all came together. Not for himself, but for them. And you thought of the smile on that little girl’s face, joyful in the midst of Christmas lights and magic that shouldn't be possible. But for her, and for you - with him...it was. Yes, you’d thought about that a lot. “I love you, Loki” you whispered slowly in his ear.
Loki’s kisses against your neck faltered. You heard a sigh rack his chest, breath hitching as his heart-beart quickened on top of your own. “Truly?” he murmured in response.
It was cautious, wary. His eyes came into view, concern clouding them. You slid a hand up his jaw, kissing him gently. “I love you,” you repeated solemnly. He pressed his forehead to yours, a choke of relieved laughter accompanying a long inhale of breath. “Gods,” he whispered on the exhale, “what have I done to deserve you?” “Everything,” you replied quietly. It was a truth.
He kissed you as though he was trying to absorb each atom of your breath, capture each flutter of the three words he’d longed to hear. As though they might vanish if he did not mark the moment with the seal of his touch. But they wouldn’t. You knew that now. How could they? “I love you,” he whispered back. And you believed him.
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A/N: Thank you again so so so much for coming on this journey with me and the gang. I'm so happy with how this ended, even though the expansion was a bit unexpected(!) and I really hope you are too! Although the 'main' story is chapters 1-7, it felt like there was more to explore. Please let me know what you thought, any insights or additional HCs you have - they are always welcome ❤️ Tags
@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland
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slytherweasley · 1 year
Text
Crushing (dbf!wolfstar x reader)
Warnings: age gap (legal), kissing, nipple play, mentions scars, oral (f&m giving/receiving), penetration, fingering, unprotected sex, female reader
Summary: James Potter’s oldest child comes back to England to help her brother with the war. Y/n stays at Grimmauld place with her late father’s best friends but she can’t get over her feelings for them.
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You hadn’t seen any of your family or father’s friends since you were a child. After your parents died you were separated from your brother and sent to a kind family in France who were willing to hide you until you were of age.
Last year you became of age and this year you decided to move back to help your brother who you hadn’t seen in years but you never stopped contacting him. Over the past few weeks you’d met so many people who had been desperate to meet you. You immediately had a lot of involvement in the order since you were the closest thing to a parent to your younger brother.
You’d met Sirius Black and Remus Lupin for the first time, you’d heard so much about them, seen many pictures and yet you’d never expected to meet two more handsome men in your life. Their charm makes you blush every time.
“You look just like your parents, I can’t believe I didn’t instantly recognise you” Remus says his hand brushing your cheek. When you first met the two men they were confused by your presence, Molly Weasley explained you are James and Lily’s daughter. “You’ve grown up to be such a beautiful young woman, at first we were just stunned by your beauty” Sirius says making your cheeks turn red. Sirius was kind enough to let you stay with him and Remus at Grimmauld place instead of cooped up at the Weasley’s burrow.
Your room is across from Remus and Sirius’ room each time you walk past it, you have the urge to knock on the door and crawl into bed with them. You know you would never considering you just met them and it’s probably wrong for you to want to get into bed with your dead father’s best friends.
But the more you get to know them the more you long for them. They treat you like a princess, you don’t have to lift a finger, something as simple as taking your plate to the sink is too much. Not to mention the pet names that make your heart pound and pussy wet. They are very affectionate with you, there were many instances where things have gotten so touchy you had to stop yourself from leaning in to kiss them.
After dinner the two men meet you in the living room with a bottle of expensive alcohol.
“I just want to thank you for letting me stay in your home, everyone has been so welcoming and I really enjoy spending time with you two” “it is no trouble darling” Sirius’ lips brush against your cheek and then he presses a kiss to it. “Oh god” you sigh “something wrong, baby?” Remus asks rubbing your thigh when noticing your change in expression. “When you guys touch me it’s hard not to kiss you” “then don’t try to resist” Remus says his face getting closer to yours but you go in for the kiss.
As you’re kissing Remus, Sirius’ hands are on your waist and kissing your neck, Remus pulls you onto his lap. You pull away to kiss Sirius, his hands move to your hair pulling it the way you like it. You feel Remus’ erection growing underneath you “Let’s go to our room, it will be much comfier” Remus picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist.
Remus gently places you on the bed and the two men help you undress you down to your underwear. You so desperately want to see them naked. You kneel on the bed and help Remus out of his shirt, you notice the scars you find them very attractive but make an effort to only glance at them once since you’d heard he’s quite insecure about his transformation.
Meanwhile, Sirius is already shirtless and kissing you again. Both men now had painful erections, you found it kind of hot that you’d only snogged and they were so aroused, you weren’t one to judge you were wet the moment you laid eyes on them.
You pull away briefly and Remus plays with the straps on your bra letting them fall and unclasps your bra letting your breasts fall. “Oh darling, look at those perky things” Sirius wastes no time in taking one into his mouth, Remus follows suit placing kisses on your boob and flicking your nipples with his tongue.
Sirius kisses down your stomach while Remus pays close attention to your sensitive nipples, he begins nibbling on them making you groan and throw your head back. At the same time, Sirius pulls your underwear down and spreads your legs letting out a groan at the sight of your glistening pussy.
“Prettier than I imagined” Sirius says running a finger through your folds making you whimper, he puts his finger to his mouth sucking on it “God, you taste so good.”
Sirius’ head moves between your legs kissing up your thighs and taking the time to suck on your upper thighs causing you to squirm. Suddenly, he dives into your pussy making you let out a loud moan, his tongue works your clit and finger slides inside you.
Remus kisses your lips again before standing beside the bed and undoing his pants, you help him with his underwear pulling it down to reveal his big aching cock. “Fucking hell” you groan and take him into your mouth, you found it hard to take him all the way as you kept choking. Sirius takes a breath and watches you choking on Remus’ cock.
“Just wait until he’s inside you, darling you’re going to be so full” Sirius says.
You taste the precum on your tongue the taste fuelling you to take him as far as you can without gagging until you choke. “Feels amazing darling, keep going.”
Sirius has multiple fingers deep inside you bringing you close to your orgasm. “That’s it Princess, squeeze around my fingers, let it go” you take your mouth off Remus’ dick letting yourself ride your orgasm.
Remus flips you around while you’re still recovering. Remus takes you from the back slowly sliding inside you “Fuck” he lets out a long groan “so fuckin’ wet” he mutters and begins pounding into you. Sirius tugs his pants and underwear down pumping himself at the sight of the both of you.
“Siri, lemme suck your cock” you say breathless, Sirius guides his cock to your mouth. Each moan vibrates through Sirius’ sensitive cock “oh princess, I’m going to cum if you keep going.”
Remus rubs your clit with his free hand and you get closer, “Fuck I’m close” Remus says as you find yourself squeezing around his cock. Remus finishes inside you and you almost collapse after finishing so hard. Remus holds you up and Sirius pulls out of your mouth. “Did so well my darling girl” Remus says.
Sirius sits in the middle of the bed stroking his cock. You and Remus make your way over to him and suck him off together. “Fuck” Sirius groans as you and Remus lick from base to tip and suck on his tip. You kiss down his cock and take his balls into your mouth while Remus takes him in his mouth.
“So close” Sirius throws his head back moaning until Remus pulls out “Cum on her tongue” he says and Sirius kneels in front of you stroking his cock until he eventually finishes and you swallow his cum.
You were so incredibly tired, you lay beside the two boys in their bed as they take care of you, cleaning you up. “Oh Darling, look at you” Remus kisses your forehead “It’s okay, go to sleep, honey” Sirius rubs your back and shoulders placing lots of kisses to your skin as you drift off to sleep.
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claymoresword · 5 months
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I Choose Her | Chp: 17
Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader
Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?
Pairing: Hermione x Reader
Wordcount: 3.9k
Warnings: plot heavy, a sprinkle of fluff , smut (?) , dark themes
Note: hi! sorry this one took so long i'm not even going to get into it, what's important is that it's finally here lol I'd say there's maybe 2 more chapters left of this story including the epilogue. i'm not too sure yet, but we are definitely nearing the end which is sort of bitter sweet.. but anyway, as always i hope you enjoy this one!
Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character
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“Here, this should do.” Hermione states in a hushed tone whilst dragging you behind a pillar to hide.
You stood behind her as she retrieved the cloak of invisibility from her bag, quickly draping it over the both of you.
Hermione pulls you even closer to remain as hidden as possible, so you instinctively wrap your arms around her torso.
You were allowed limited time to devise a plan as Snape summoned all students out of bed, all ordered to assemble in the Great Hall at once.
Harry made the impulsive decision to hide amongst the crowd of students so he may confront the Headmaster. The rest of you are forced to follow his lead, entirely improvising as you go.
Despite yourself, you do hope that Ron has managed to sneak out of the castle in time to fetch the other members of the Order. 
The Dark Lord and his followers are expected to march against Hogwarts any minute now, Harry needs all the help he can get.
-
Hogwarts always felt vaguely warm and comfortable to you, but now it is dense and inhospitable. You hardly recognised it anymore.
It is consistently hard to catch your breath, and you can't seem to ignore the uncomfortable chill running down your spine.
Hermione's presence being your only source of comfort, during a time that you otherwise found utterly debilitating. 
“Well, I don't know about you but this is quite nice. I really wouldn't mind staying like this with you, forever.” You attempt to lighten the mood as you further pressed your front against Hermione's back, earning a light chuckle in response.
“Honestly, I wouldn't mind either.” Hermione leans back slightly allowing you to place a quick kiss on her cheek before standing upright once more.
Your girlfriend keeps her eyes on the large group of students marching past, in anomalous unison. The sounds of their rhythmic footsteps echo through the halls. Not a single word is uttered amongst them. 
You can feel Hermione tense against your hold, as if she was trying to fight a similar feeling of deep and inescapable unease.
The final group of students enter through the doors, the large wooden panels shut with a large thud. 
Then, it is only silence, you can only hear the sound of your own breathing, the loud thumping of your raised heartbeat in your ears.
“Y/n..” Hermione's voice is a welcomed distraction from the unbearable quiet, it nearly makes you smile. 
“Yes, darling.” You respond, the other woman turns slightly so she may look at you as she speaks.
“I've been thinking..” Hermione starts. “It is no use that we find the other Hocruxes if we don't have the means to destroy it.”
Hermione's words make you pause. Truth be told, it hadn't even occurred to you until now. You had been so caught up in trying to locate the next object that you had entirely forgotten you no longer had the sword of Gryffindor in your possession.
“There's no chance we can take back the sword.. not now.” You think aloud, searching your mind for a solution. Hermione releases a groan at that, frustration and defeat. “I know.”
Then it occurs to you, a miraculous solution to your issue, or a shot in the dark, you were not yet certain.
“The Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets..” You trail off, now capturing Hermione's full attention. “What happened to it after Harry slayed it?” You ask, hoping your girlfriend will give you the answer you were looking for.
“Nothing, it's still there, left to decay in the Chamber.” Hermione replies, and a beat passes where nothing is said between you, but your girlfriend manages to catch up to your train of thought anyway.
“If we find a way to the chamber we can retrieve the Basilisk fang from the skeleton and destroy the Hocrux.” Your girlfriend voices the contents of your mind for you.
“With some luck.” You add.
Then, Hermione grins, a look of relief washes over her. Still underneath the cloak Hermione manages to turn around, she loops her arms around your neck, quickly guiding you in for a searing kiss, one that leaves your lips tingling even moments after she has pulled away. 
“You are brilliant.” Hermione utters, and this time it is your turn to smile.
“That's all you, my love.” You quip. Watching as Hermione makes a face in contentment before turning away from you once again.
Snape's voice can be faintly heard from where the two of you were standing, you tried to listen but Hermione's kiss ignited something within you. A sudden sense of serenity, now you are convinced that everything will turn out as you plan, as if you weren't currently in imminent danger.
As you held Hermione in your arms you allowed yourself to forget the threat of battle, if only for a few moments.
You can't hardly help the way your hand slips underneath her sweater, you feel her goosebumps forming underneath your touch as your palm grazes her bare stomach. 
This only works to urge you on as you carefully part her hair away from her neck, so you may plant gentle kisses against her warm flesh. Hermione's eyes flutter shut at the sensation, and you can hear her breath quickening. 
Although, you aren't allowed to carry on for long as she finally places her hand atop yours, removing it from underneath her top.
“Stop distracting me, I am trying to listen.” Hermione scolds, half-heartedly, her tone makes you smirk, a fire threatens to ignite, but you relent.
You could still only make out bits and pieces of what the Headmaster was saying, and nothing coherent. 
Soon deciding that you needed to get closer to the doors if you hoped to find out what was going on inside. You observed the lack of teachers roaming the halls, it appears you and Hermione were alone.
“Let's move closer.” You suggest, pulling the cloak off both of you so you may move freely.
“Alright.” Hermione agrees, clutching your hand as you advance forward together. 
Through the crack in the door, you are able to spot Snape, on the podium, addressing the students, the Carrows standing by either side of him.
“Punished in a matter consistent with the severity of their transgression.”
“Any person to have knowledge.. who fails to come forward, will be treated as equally guilty.”
You listened as the Headmaster continued hurling his veiled threats towards the group of blameless students. It makes your blood run cold and it appears Hermione felt as equally unsettled by Snape's words.
“Now then, If anyone here has any knowledge of Mr Potter's movements this evening. I invite them to step forward.. now.” Snape's words are met with complete silence, and your belly tightens with nauseating suspense.
The sound of sudden footsteps that echo from behind the two of you breaks the tantalizing quiet. It makes you whirl around in a panic, only for you to spot Ron next to his brother, Shacklebolt behind him and then the rest of the Order.
“What's going on?” Ron asks, looking between you and Hermione, and you merely hold your hand up to silence him as Hermione continues peeking through the crack.
The next thing that can be heard is a mass of gasps coming from the other side of the doors, students muttering amongst themselves. Before you can question it, the sound of Harry's voice validates your anxiety. 
You freeze, whereas Hermione merely steps forward, bracing her hand against the door, as if prepared to push it open, ready to come to Harry's defense.
“It seems, despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you seem to have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster.” Harry's voice can be heard clearly as Hermione pushes the wooden doors open, you along with the rest of the Order follow her lead, now wands in hand, entering the hall as a group.
All eyes are now on you, more gasps in disbelief as you all stood behind Harry.
You then make the mistake of letting your eyes wander, it doesn't take long before you catch Pansy's gaze. Her stare, hardened and unforgiving enough to make you look away in an instant. You decide to focus your attention ahead.
Harry's harsh voice makes the walls in the hall vibrate.
“How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night, tell them how you look him in the eye, a man who trusted you and killed him.”
Harry continues to taunt the Headmaster, all he is granted with is silence, for a long moment, until Snape retrieves his wand.
He points it at Harry but before The Chosen One is allowed a chance to properly react, he is shoved out of the way, Professor McGonagall shielding him with her person.
It all happens quickly, the Professor flings spell after spell at the Headmaster, and everyone can merely observe with bated breaths as Snape deflected every blow.
The Headmaster lifts his wand to shield himself but this time the curse rebounds. As a result, the Carrows fall, unconscious.
Professor McGonagall steps closer but before she can attack once again, Snape is no longer upright as he quickly transfigures into a black mass, apparating out of the window behind him. The broken glass falls with a large crash.
A stunned silence before an eruption of cheers from the bystanders. Celebrating the Professor's triumph. 
Hermione glances at you with a similar look of relief, but the both of you recognize that it is fleeting.
Just as you expected, the moment of joy is over as quickly as it began. The mark on your arm, what was a dull ache turns into a searing pain, so sudden and paralyzing that it knocks you to the ground, still clutching your arm.
Hermione rushes to your side, but before she can attempt to question what was wrong Harry can also be seen collapsing onto the floor in front of you.
You catch a glimpse of Hermione's panicked expression, she turns to her best friend and then to you. Your girlfriend attempts to speak to you but you cannot hear her.
The pain in your arm has now spread, you shut your eyes tightly as you endured it. The hall grows dark once again, stagnant and cold. A spine chilling voice of the Dark Lord echoes through the air, easily distinguishable and unsettling. 
Soon there is a mass of screams coming from each corner of the room, students plugging their ears in terror.
Lord Voldermort aims to convey a message; a threat.
Hermione is holding you tightly against her own body, the pain in your arm is finally reduced to a dull ache once again.
“I know that many of you will want to fight, some of you may even think that to fight is wise, but this is folly.”
“Give me Harry Potter, do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded.”
“You have one hour.”
The Dark Lord's attempt to entice has merely immobilized everyone for a prolonged moment.
You finally get back on your feet, Hermione does not let go of you still. “Are you alright?” She manages to find the words and you only nod in response.
As you glanced around the room, you realized that once again, all eyes are on Harry. This time the stares are hostile, some uncertain, others, plain terror.
Pansy's voice is first to break the tense stillness. “What are you waiting for? Someone grab him.” She points to The Chosen One.
Ginny is first to step in front of Harry, followed by Ron, Hermione, yourself and the rest of the Order follow suit.
As Pansy catches your stare again she scoffs, this time your hardened expression mirrors her own.
“Mr Filch, if you would, I would like you to please escort Ms Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin house from the hall.” Professor McGonagall orders the caretaker of the castle. 
The man emerges from the crowd, his tired long haired cat in his arms. “Where exactly will I be leading them to, Maam?” He asks.
“The dungeons would do.” The Professor quickly states. This makes Hermione reach down to hold your hand once again, you respond by intertwining your fingers.
There was more sudden applause from the students as they celebrated Mr Filch leading the other Slytherins out of the hall.
As expected, you notice Pansy walking towards you, and you make the hasty decision to turn away so you could hopefully avoid her. However, you don't get the chance to try as she gets close enough to grab your collar harshly, then you react on instinct, getting a tight hold on her wrist.
“Fucking traitor.” She hisses, the sudden nature of the interaction makes you wince.
You open your mouth to speak but Hermione quickly steps in. “Let go of her, or I swear you will be leaving this hall with no hands.” There is enough vitriol in her voice to make anyone cower, but Pansy was not yet done, in fact she barely acknowledges your girlfriend at all. 
“If I had known you were with your muggle pet this entire time..” Pansy trails off, she shakes her head slightly, repulsed.
“You're an embarrassment. I can hardly believe I ever considered you a friend.” Pansy retorts.
The same Pansy you have known since first year. You can't help the pang in your chest, her words manage to graze you.
She grants you a scowl before storming off, Blaise follows immediately after her, having listened to the entire interaction. He bumps his own shoulder against yours before slipping past, purposefully setting you off balance. 
You held your tongue, reminding yourself to remain calm.
When you turn to Hermione once more the look plastered on her face makes you ache. She recognizes your hurt, and she can't help but feel it too. “Y/n–” She starts but you quickly interject with a change of topic.
“I have half a mind to carve this thing out of me.” You quip, only partly joking. The dark mark now stifled by your sleeve.
Your joke doesn't translate, in fact it only urges Hermione to worry about you more. “You will do no such thing.” She warns with furrowed brows as she reaches up to fix the collar of your shirt, badly creased from Pansy's fury.
Hermione's own wrath yet to dissipate, you feel it in the way her hand trembles. 
You smile faintly at her in gratitude, in an endless sea of chaos, she is your helm.
As the rest of the students begin clearing the hall, Harry rushes past as well, urging Ron, y/n and Hermione to follow. “Come on.” He exclaims without looking back.
═══════════════════════════════════════════
Terror pollutes the air surrounding Hogwarts, contagious and unrelenting. It infects everyone, guiding and inspiring frantic behaviour. 
As all the Professors remain in the outer courtyard, securing the castle, students are left indoors to their own devices. Everyone is pushing, shoving. Coming and going. No one knows what to do, the only thing that's certain is that fear hangs over them a dark cloud enveloping all. 
“Harry, wait!” Hermione exclaims, trying to get her friend's attention but dark haired man barrels forward, Ron by his side.
Your finally manage to catch up to him, Hermione tugs on Harry's arm, forcefully urging him to look at her. 
“I've had an idea– well really it's Y/n's idea it's completely brilliant.” Hermione gestures towards you as she raises her voice slightly so she may be heard over the commotion.
Harry stares at you, inquisitive yet impatient so you decide speak quickly. “It doesn't matter if we find the Hocrux unless we can destroy it.” You say.
“You destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with the Basilisk fang, right?” You question rhetorically but Harry nods regardless.
“Well, Hermione and I think we know where we might find one.” You add vaguely, a precaution against prying ears.
“Okay, fine– but take this” Harry seems only half present in the conversation now, he is not even looking at you as he retrieves the Marauder's Map from his pocket.
You grab the bit of parchment, admittedly perplexed by his response. “That way you can find me when you get back.” Harry explains and you nod.
The Chosen One turns to continue up the stairs without looking back, Ron blindly trails after him, it seems asking Harry questions now will only slow them down.
“Where are you two going?” Hermione on the other hand cannot contain her curiosity.
“Ravenclaw Common Room. We've got to start somewhere.” He explains, practically shouting above the clamour.
As Ron and Harry dissapear into the crowd 
Hermione quickly intertwines your hand with her own, dragging you up the stairs in the opposite direction. “Come on, this way.”
The girl's lavatory remained vacant as you both made your way down the long winding slope, a pile of something soft breaks your harsh landing, in the darkness you are not able to make out what it might be.
The chamber was dark, every surface caked with dust, you can feel it in your lungs everytime you took a breath. No doubt the chambers has been left entirely untouched since the event all those years ago. 
Every step you took echoed towards the void, the faint noise of critters scampering on the walls was enough to unsettle you.
“Lumos.” Hermione says with her wand in hand, illuminating your path. It was only then you had the sense to do the same with your own.
═══════════════════════════════════════════
You finally get to the entrance but only to realize it is locked, intricate stone carvings of serpents mounted proudly on the door; a warning. 
You inspect it carefully, but there is no visible keyhole any clues of how to unlock it.
Hermione bravely places her hands upon it, a feeble attempt to pry the heavy door open, but it is no use.
She sighs, exasperated.
“Any ideas?” Hermione looks to you, desperate.
You remained silent as you deliberated, your first instinct was to enter with force, throw a curse large enough to hopefully break apart the stone door atleast enough for the both of you to fit through.
That plan does not come without it's risks, you set it aside for now.
You begin considering other solutions, and naturally your mind involuntarily turns to the events surrounding the chamber of secrets all those years ago, your second year at Hogwarts. 
The perpetual anxiety that plagued you, and every other student in the castle. Everyday, the Basilisk claimed a new victim and for several weeks, you were only allowed to wonder who it might choose next.
You distinctly recall the way Draco reacted to it all, how he insisted on learning parseltongue so he could gain control of the beast. Feeding into the widespread fear that Harry was the true heir of Slytherin. That he would target him next if he did not learn how to defend himself.
Countless nights where your best friend would stay up memorizing phrases in parseltongue, certain that he would then gain the ability to control the beast if it ever came after him.
Whether he was driven by jealousy or plain and simple fear is unclear, but Draco's relentless efforts, as a result, forcefully imprinted the unfamiliar dialect into your vocabulary. 
Although, time certainly did it's duty, and now you are only able to recall certain words. 
You wonder if it will perhaps still be enough to possibly unlock the door to the chamber.
“I have an idea, but it might not work.” You reply, although entirely lacking confidence.
Hermione doesn't share your doubts, she nods assuredly eventhough she has no notion of what you intend to do. “Go on then.”
You speak the words ‘door’, ‘snake’, and ‘open’ in parseltongue. With your limited knowledge, you cannot hope to form a complete sentence, but luckily enough, the chamber unlocks. The heavy door opens, wide and eerily inviting.
Hermione stares at you wide-eyed in bewilderment. “How–” She tries but you only start forward towards the door.
“Long story– if we survive this I'll tell you all about it.” You quip as you made way for Hermione to step inside before you.
═══════════════════════════════════════════
As it seems your streak of luck has yet to wear off as you succeed in extracting the Basilisk fang. It was just as Hermione said, all flesh has rotted away, now what was left of the beast was only it's skeleton, set to fossilise with time.
The both of you stood unmoving, hovering over the Hufflepuff cup, readying yourselves for the next step. “You do it.” You extend your arm so Hermione may grab the fang but she quickly shakes her head in protest. 
“No, I can't.” She admits but your gaze doesn't falter, courteous and true, you grab her hand.
“Yes, you can.” You state, lightly forcing the fang into her grasp, and she remains hesitant but accepts it anyway.
“I'll be right here if anything happens.” You reassure with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Hermione moves to crouch next to the cup and you do the same, holding it in place.
Your girlfriend glances at you a last time for reassurance and you can only nod. As Hermione lifts her arm with the Basilisk fang in hand, you hold your breath.
In an instant she brings her arm straight down, the tip of the sharp tooth proved sturdy enough to pierce through the ancient relic. The Hufflepuff Cup begins spinning uncontrollably, as if trying to escape the cause of its injury.
Then, the room awakens, the body of water once still on either sides of the pathway you stood suddenly rises in anger. 
The water continues to twist and shape itself into a horrifying sight, the same vision of Voldermort that tormented you when you destroyed the locket.
You grab Hermione's hand, pulling her away from danger, but the being follows you until there was nowhere else to run, you fish out your wand from your pocket but before you can attempt anything, water crashes down onto the both of you. 
You are soaked and breathless, but the room was asleep once more. It is over.
Another Horcrux is destroyed, and air sharply fills your lungs. “You did it.” You state with true relief and Hermione doesn't respond, not with words. 
In one large stride she is directly infront if you, her lips against yours. The kiss shocks your entire system. Open-mouthed, and aguished. Her hand is firmly against the nape of your neck, Hermione melts within your embrace and you react all the same. Before you can protest or question further, your girlfriend pulls away. 
You stare at her, dazed and almost in a trance, consumed in everything and all Hermione. You nearly fail to notice the fact that she was removing her shoes, and then her jacket.
“What are you doing?” You remain staring at her, now with a hint of amusement, but mainly awe.
“We might die today.” Hermione states plainly, the nature of her words do not match her tone.
You observed as she removed her top, now leaving her in only her jeans and bra. She approaches you again, her hands slipping underneath your shirt, warm touch against damp skin makes you shiver in anticipation.
Then you feel her soft lips against the shell of your ear, and soon your jaw. “When I take my last breath I want to remember what it feels like to be with you.. all of you.” Hermione utters, her hands already moving to undo your belt.
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writing-for-marvel · 1 year
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Don’t Get Sad, Get Even
Boyfriend’s Roommate!Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader
Summary: After finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you, you decide to get back at him by sleeping with the one person he was always insecure about throughout your relationship, his roommate.
Prompt: For making me believe that you could be faithful to me - Rihanna, Take a Bow
Warnings: strictly 18+, cheating & revenge sex, use of toys (dildo & vibrator), masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: this is my entry for my darling friend @flordeamatista’s Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library
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You can’t deny that the sight of your boyfriend stumbling upstairs, lips locked with some young, college chick, fumbling to unhook her bra, makes your heart drop below your stomach.
You knew, even from the outset of your relationship, that Bryce wasn’t going to be the guy you walked down an aisle and pledged ‘I do’ to, but he had, at least initially, been attentive and put in the effort to make you feel beautiful. Your chest aches at the thought that it only took a couple drinks and a pretty girl seductively sucking on a straw, for him to break the four month long commitment you made to each other.
That he didn’t have the decency to break up with you before not so subtly sliping away from a party he himself dragged you to, to fuck some stranger a mere wall away from where he left you minutes earlier with the promise to fix you both a drink.
With your head held high, despite the slight sting behind your eyes and a lump forming in your throat, you stand and stalk out of the house, tuning out the disparaging whispers of his friends as you leave.
Fuck him for not being able to recognise your worth, and fuck settling for his unsatisfying, vanilla, one minute performances he was no doubt be subjecting that luckless college girl to right now.
If he’s going to fuck whoever he wanted, you’re going do the same. And you’ll start with the person Bryce was the most insecure about during your relationship - his roommate.
* * *
Ari enters his shared apartment and notices the sound of the shower running, which is odd considering he distinctly remembered his roommate telling him he’d have the place to himself this Saturday night.
Knowing Bryce could in fact be dumb enough to forget to turn the water off before heading out, Ari begrudgingly goes to do it for him, only to realise that it isn’t Bryce’s shower that’s running.
Surely he couldn’t have been stupid enough to do it himself? Cursing the insanely high water bill they were sure to get this month, Ari rushes to turn the shower off in his own private bathroom.
Once he storms in and his brain has time to realise what he’s actually witnessing, he’s already harder than a rock.
“Hey Ari.” You say so casually, almost devilishly, even though you’re completely naked and masturbating in his bathroom. You’ve left the door to the small shower open, giving Ari a perfect view of you riding a dildo stuck to the floor, steamy water flowing down your back and dripping onto the tiled floor from your ass. And by the faint buzzing sound reverberating off the tiled walls, he’s also fairly certain you’re using a vibrator. The thought makes him even more painfully hard.
“Ugh Sunshine, you do know this is my shower, don’t you?” Your heart flutters at his nickname for you. You suspect he only playfully called you that because of how it upset Bryce each time the moniker left his lips, but it still manages to slip out when it’s just the two of you and he’s found you in this downright pornographic scene.
“Yeah, I know. It's just… I saw Bryce cheating on me tonight and I thought fuck it, I always thought you were really hot.” Ari takes a prudent step closer to the shower, swearing under his breath as he watches the thick dildo disappearing into your pussy with each twerk of your hips. “I wanted to see if you could fuck me better than he can.”
“You think there’s even a contest?” Ari asks rhetorically as he adjusts himself in his shorts, desperate for any type of friction to ease his painful throbbing need. “I’ve heard how unsatisfied he’s left you through these very walls.”
“Guess you’ll just have to prove it to me then.” This time Ari wastes no time in accepting your challenge. Turning off the running water, his large hands pick you up from the shower floor and squeeze your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist.
He kisses you with urgency and need, swiping his tongue into your mouth as if his life depends upon it, but the ardent kiss is over far too quickly as in three long strides Ari’s already at the foot of his bed, laying you down and pulling his shirt over his head.
You’re practically drooling watching him undress, his broad shoulders, strong arms and toned abs could fool anyone into thinking he was a god carved from stone. And when he finally strips himself of his shorts and underwear, you actually salivate at the sight of his deliciously large dick already hard and ready for you.
“Fuck, you’re so much bigger than Bryce.” Your brain is practically malfunctioning at the view of the naked, burly man in front of you and these words are all you can think to say.
“This is what you’ve been missing out on, Sunshine.” Ari comments with a smirk.
He kisses you again, with the same intensity as before, but now he takes his time to explore your mouth, his hands desperate to feel every inch of you, every beautiful swell and dip, every exquisite curve he gets to claim for the night.
“Turn around for me, I wanna see that ass.” You do as he commands, face and chest to his bed, arching your back with your ass in the air, giving him prime view of exactly what he wants. You grab your vibrator, switch it on your preferred setting and hold it at the angle you’ve come to know with experience gives you the most pleasure, humming in satisfaction when you find just the right spot. “Fuck, you’re so sexy when you use that toy.”
You feel him teasingly drag the head of his dick through your folds, coating himself in your arousal, which in turn makes you wetter.
“Shit, that’s a pretty pussy. So wet for me. You’ve been thinking about fucking me for a while, haven’t you?”
You breathlessly admit you have during the beat where he pauses and lines himself up with your entrance. A chorus of moans echoes through the room as he pushes into you for the first time. He fills you up agonisingly slowly, but his bruising grip on your hips prevents you from pushing back into him. The burn of your walls stretching to accommodate him dissipates once he’s fully sheathed within you and all you can think about is how completely and utterly full you feel.
“Holy shit, you’re so tight.” Ari gives himself a moment to savour the sensation of how your soft walls grip him and seemingly pull him further into you before he begins to move, quickening his pace with every new thrust.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Fill me up so deep, Ari.” The combination of the vibrator continuously stimulating your clit and the feel of Ari’s every inch driving in and out of you already has your toes curling.
“Say my name again baby, let the neighbours know who’s fucking you so good.” You do as he requests, chanting his name with every plunge of his cock.
His bed creaks with each rocking movement, the sound of the headboard thumping into the wall rhythmically fills the room along with your moaning and the salacious sound of skin slapping skin.
“Shit, right there, Ari. Don’t fucking stop!” You think perhaps there should be a part of you that’s embarrassed at how quickly you’re finding your release, but with how neglected and needy Bryce has left you, you’re utterly desperate to feel that pent up tension snap like a rubber band.
“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for me, wanna feel you squeezing my cock.” Ari can feel how close you are, your velvety walls fluttering around him, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With one strong thrust, your long awaited release washes through you like a wave. Every cell in your body floods with pleasure, blinding your vision and losing control of all motor function, causing you to let go of the vibrator.
As if Ari can sense the future, he’s ready when you go slack, taking the toy from your limp hand and maintaining the perfect pressure on your clit, never breaking rhythm with his thrusts, prolonging your orgasm to the point where you’re desperately mewling for him to stop and tugging at his sheets to escape the tsunami of overwhelming pleasure.
“Best pussy I’ve ever felt. I bet Bryce doesn’t fuck you this good.” Ari says as he lazily pulls out of you, wiping stray, sweaty strands of hair from his eyes as he lays beside you on his bed, gently tapping his thighs as his indication he wants you to get on top.
“Not even close.” You say breathlessly with a smirk, a little insecure about how your legs wobble as you straddle him, though Ari doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, he looks overjoyed watching you look down at him, a hint of endearment swirling in his lust blown pupils you hadn’t been expecting to notice.
Ari lets out a rumbling moan as you sink down onto him, his hands instinctively finding your hips as he helps you through the motions of grinding down on his dick.
“Work it pretty girl, yeah, just like that. Use me, use this fat cock, it’s all yours.” Once you have worked up a rhythm Ari removes his hands from your sides, appreciating the sight of your pussy swallowing his shaft whole, before his itching fingers caress your breasts, rolling your nipples into stiffened peaks. “You’re so beautiful riding me like this. Look at these tits, they’re fucking perfect.”
“Oh God, I’m close, Ari.”
“Me too, Sunshine.” You barely hear Ari’s words as his strong arms engulf you, flipping you into his mattress. His heavy body presses you even further into the memory foam which is permanently infused with his intoxicating musky scent, trapping you so you have no choice but to take everything he’s giving you.
His long hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t stop him from making adoring eye contact. Did his eyes always soften when they gazed at you? Or are you only noticing it now that you are so much closer than you have ever been before?
You loved the angel he hit inside you while you were riding him, but it’s nothing compared to the mesmerising drag of his cock in this position, his hips rolling fervently into yours as his hands interlock with yours above your head and his lips suck on the sensitive skin of your neck.
The sex feels much more intimate than you were expecting when you essentially broke into his apartment to provocatively display yourself, wishing he’d be interested enough in an easy lay to give you one climax for the night. You’re not complaining though, you always did had a soft spot for Ari, and Bryce was rightfully jealous of the effortless connection you share.
“Oh fuck, Ari! Please, you're gonna make me cum!” You cry, his pistoning movements becoming more erratic as he chases both of your highs, his pelvis grinding against your clit repeatedly with each thrust.
“Cum with me, pretty girl.” Ari growls into your ear, your admission only spurring him on. The coil in the pit of your stomach winding tighter with each stroke of his tip against the spongy spot inside you that makes your legs shake uncontrollably and blinding stars burn behind your eyes. The same spot Bryce was never able to find, yet Ari sought out so easily.
Euphoria takes over you for the second time with a strained cry of his name, ecstasy shivers down your spine and out to the endings of every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating on a cloud of pure bliss as Ari captures your moans in an ardent kiss.
Your soft walls squeeze him deliciously and contrast to the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back. It’s enough to push him over the edge with you.
“Holy shit, I’m cumming!” Ari announces before a deep, husky grunt rumbles from his chest. The muscles in his abdomen tense as he spills his large load deep inside you with a drawn out groan.
When Ari finally pulls out, he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your mixed releases dripping from your core, before he dashes into his bathroom to fetch a warm, damp cloth to clean you up. You flinch at the sensation, your body oversensitive after the two mind blowing orgasms he pulled from you, but your heart soars at the thought in his gesture.
Once he’s done, Ari’s sweaty form lays down beside you, pulling you into him, gently kissing down your neck and over your shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine at how much tenderness each small kiss is filled with.
“You know, I’ve kinda had a thing for you ever since Bryce introduced us, but I’ve never been that guy who makes a move on someone else’s girl.” You flip over so you’re looking at him, his eyes search yours for a sign that he is more than a convenient one night stand and this meant more than just getting revenge on his dickhead roommate.
“Well, I’m no longer Bryce’s girl…” You point out, which is met with a smile.
“No, you’re mine now.”
* * *
Before going another round, one where Ari vows to finally taste you, you suggest grabbing some bottled water to keep hydrated. You’ll need to replenish your fluids if he plans on having his way with you the entire night and into the morning.
When you open the bedroom door, you see a familiar figure lounging on the couch.
“Oh, hey Bryce.” You say nonchalantly, feigning ignorance that you knew he lived here, though it is a welcome surprise to see him home so early from the party where he would have heard every sinful detail of your genuine climax with Ari minutes before, something he had never experienced in your four months together.
He simply stares at you, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief as you casually walk over to the kitchen au naturel. You make sure to sway your hips seductively as you return to Ari’s bedroom, giving him a view of exactly what he’s missing out on.
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ozai-the-bonsai · 1 month
Text
Cry for the Moon
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader
Important Notes: I don’t think there is any use of she/her in this chapter but for future chapters, please don’t be surprised if other characters refer to the reader as she/her. And just like any other Fire Nation citizen, the reader has amber eyes. Other than that, I have given my best to avoid any further details about the reader but constructive criticism is always welcome!
Warnings: none
A/N: I am looking forward to your feedback on this very first chapter, personally the first ones are the hardest :) if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!
Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart
Credits to @lost-inthe-v0id for the main idea behind the story
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“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life,” you spoke with a low voice as your hands reached the necklace Zuko was holding. It was past midnight, and you two had to be sleeping but – as always – you decided to sneak out to lay under the moonlight, enjoying the peace the night brought to the palace. “Did you do it yourself?”
Zuko nodded in a proud manner. “I have always loved the way the moonlight reflected from your amber eyes,” his words made you turn your gaze away, feeling heat rushing to your face. “So I wanted to capture that beautiful light in this amber stone as well.”
Apparently, he had somehow managed to melt the amber, place some tiny silver pieces which looked like stars, and then form the amber in a crescent moon.
“Do you want me to help you put it on?”
You nodded, gathering your hair on your left shoulder. “I love it,” you spoke as you laid your left hand on the necklace, your eyes finding Zuko’s. “Thank you.”
Slowly, Zuko’s left hand found your right one, which was resting on the grass, and held it tight. “Once I become the Fire Lord and make you my Fire Lady, I will gift you the finest of jewels.”
A small smile formed on your lips, he was always so eager to show his love – you adored it. “That sounds lovely,” your left hand was still on the necklace as you spoke. “But I cannot imagine a better gift than this.” Zuko’s face lit up almost immediately. “Every time I look at it, I will remember how lucky we are to have each other.”
Zuko left an innocent kiss on your forehead, his lips were warm against your skin. “You are my favourite person in this world.”
Waves crashing against the ship woke you up from the dream – a memory from the life of a different person. Unconsciously, you moved your left hand to your neck, only to find emptiness there. There was no necklace. There hasn’t been a necklace for over three years.
Your mind was playing tricks on you now that you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw the Banished Prince.
Realising that sleep was not going to be easy to find, you wrapped yourself in your red gown and went outside, only to find the Princess there on the front deck. The cold wind of the ocean was causing you to use your breath of fire as you walked towards her.
Azula didn’t even look to see the owner of the footsteps, she could recognise you anytime. “Having trouble sleeping?” She asked, but it was rather a rhetorical question.
You nodded as you stood next to her, your hands rested on the railings. “Sometimes I feel like my dreams hate me,” you muttered. “What’s your excuse? Please don’t tell me you have been up all night, again.”
The Princess simply shrugged; her amber eyes were fixed on the waves. You heaved a sigh.
“Azula, darling, even you need to sleep once in a while.” You spoke with a tender voice, which caused Azula to look at you. “Do you really want your failure of a brother to see a slipping version of yourself just because you were too stubborn to admit that you were sleepy?”
“But I am not done calculating all the possible scenarios for tomorrow,” she spoke with a low voice that wanted to sound stubborn but in the end, she was just tired. “I must be ready for anything.”
Gently, you wrapped your left arm around Azula’s waist. Growing up together – and especially after Zuko was banished – you two had developed a special bond, perhaps such that Azula hadn’t shared with anyone before. Not even with her mother.
“Sleep deprived Azula won’t have the same capacity as a well-rested Azula – we have talked about this before.” You were slowly making both of you walk inside. “Your body needs to rest, your mind as well. With a crystal-clear mind, you will finish your calculations in no time tomorrow, I am sure of it.”
She would never admit it, but Azula loved the way you had this soft spot for her – it was too easy to read it from her eyes if one had known her long enough.
“Plus, sleep deprivation is bad for your skin – you will get dark rings under your eyes. Nobody wants that.”
Azula let out a chuckle as you stopped in front of her chambers. “You do know how to get to me.”
You let her waist go as you adjusted your red gown. “As long as you allow me to, Princess.” Your voice carried the hints of affection, sympathy, and loyalty. “I intend to be there to get to you, to assist you, and to kill for you, when you need me to.”
The edge of Azula’s lips curled upwards upon hearing you. “Allow yourself to rest,” she spoke as she walked into her chamber. “I can see that having to see Zuzu after all these years is starting to trouble you – I need you to bury the ghosts from the past.”
“We both know that the ghosts have all been buried long ago,” you said before heading back to your room. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here with you today.”
At least, that was what you had believed for the past three years – that all the flames from the past were snuffed out – until Azula visited you in your chambers a week ago.
[Flashback]
You giggled as you ran your fingers through Shuzi’s smooth, dark hair; his head was rested on your lap as he laid on your bed. It had been a peaceful morning with Shuzi surprising you with breakfast in bed – apparently, he had been in the kitchens, preparing your breakfast on his own, declining any kind of help offered by the servants.
“Do you have any plans for today?” Shuzi asked, his amber eyes wandering on your face.
“You know that I need to keep up with learning the languages,” you responded as your hand moved down to cup his face. “And I have this family dinner later today.”
Shuzi pouted in a playful way. “Won’t I get to see my girlfriend for the rest of the day?” he spoke imitating a baby’s voice, which caused you to giggle once again. “That’s too long!”
Before you could lean in and leave a small kiss on his nose, the doors to your chambers were opened to reveal Azula standing outside. She was already in her royal uniforms but without the armour – compared to the sleeping robes you still wore. Which made you realise that you hadn’t even combed your hair.
“Aw, adorable,” Azula spoke with a rather soft tone which sounded a bit too sarcastic and caused Shuzi you sit up straight. “Shuzi, give us a moment.”
Of course, just like everyone else in the Fire Nation, Shuzi wouldn’t dare make the Princess repeat herself. Hence, he quickly stood up, gathered his stuff, placed a quick kiss on your lips and left your chambers. As the servants closed the doors, you raised a questioning eyebrow at Azula.
“He is not a puppy, you know.”
Azula made herself comfortable on your couch while watching you walk towards the table to pour yourself some tea – it was still warm enough. “Well, he certainly allows himself to be used as one.” She responded, causing you to heave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, please – only a fool could miss the way you get him to do everything for you.” Azula crossed her right leg over the left one. “A little bit girlish coquetry, a little bit kissing and congratulations! You get the finest top knot pin with rubies and black diamonds.”
Holding the tea with your both hands, you turned back to face Azula, the eyebrow still arched. “Azula, there is no need to be jealous over something so small – you are the princess, you can literally get anything you want at any time.”
“Me? Jealous?” Azula let out her well-known, condescending laughter. “You have said it yourself – I am the Princess. There isn’t possibly a person in this world that I could ever be jealous of.”
Once again, you heaved a sigh – Azula knew very well that you could see through her almost all the time for you knew her way too well. However, at moments like this, she would show the Ozai in herself by pretending that the deep connection you shared didn’t even exist.
Sometimes, you tended to get mad at her for such behaviour, but you tried to remind yourself why Azula acted the way she did and how you could heal her – and it wasn’t by approaching her the same horrible way Ozai had been doing for all these years.
“Azula..?”
The Princess brushed you off and you decided not to push further, you would probably have more private time with her after the day was over. “Anyways, I have some exceptionally important news for you.”
You took a long sip from your tea as you leant the table behind you. “I am all ears.”
“Father has assigned me a crucial task after the recent outrageous failure in the North,” Azula began explaining and you simply nodded – not that you believed the failure to be outrageous but to signal her to continue.
The moment you had heard about the plans to siege the Northern Watertribe from your father, you had known it was not going to work out the way Ozai had fashioned it to. There was a reason why the North hadn’t even received a single blow in the last hundred years.
Azula slowly stood up. “I am to stop Zuzu and Uncle from further disgracing my family. Father wants me to capture them and bring back as prisoners of the Fire Nation.”
“Will you be sailing to Earth Kingdom, then?” You asked with a curious look in your amber eyes.
“We will be sailing to Earth Kingdom.” Azula corrected you with a smirk on her lips. “I want you to come with me on this mission.”
The teacup between your hands fell down onto the ground, breaking into million pieces.
[Flashback ends]
Sleep hadn’t been eager to pull you into its soothing embrace that night. Before going on to this mission with Azula, your only concern had been whether you would miss Shuzi or not – well, you two hadn’t really spent several days apart ever since you got together. You being a noble resident in the Royal Palace due to your father’s military work and Shuzi’s family being the Fire Lord’s foremost advisors, you two could easily spend any night together at your chambers.
However, instead of missing Shuzi’s arms wrapped around your body at night, you had found yourself missing the peaceful sleep which wasn’t haunted by the ghosts from your past. It disturbed you greatly that even the anticipation of getting to see Zuko after three long years was starting to disrupt everything you had built since he was gone.
It hadn’t been easy to rebuild – no, it had been the most painful thing you had ever done in your sixteen years of life and you certainly did not intend to let the Banished Prince burn your whole world to ashes.
Not this time.
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fallingdownhell · 6 months
Note
hi!! i really loved your reader drunk complimenting dumeru boys 😭❤️ i was wondering if you can make something similar but with diluc, xiao, thoma? you can add whoever else you want!
thank you in advance, if ever you come across this ask and accept my request! love your writing btw <3
Thank you so much!! I'm glad you enjoy my writing! And of course, I loved that request so much myself, glad to include some other characters in this now<3
Characters Included: Diluc; Xiao; Thoma
Content: gender neutral reader; drunk reader; established relationship; general fluffy content
Word count: 2k words
Imagine Reader's parts as drunken gibberish, I can't write that for the life of me xD
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Diluc
Even though Diluc himself did not like drinking alcohol and rarely participated in it, he could understand your need for the occaisonal drink at his bar, especially when he noticed you approach after an particular stressful day at work.
He noticed your slumped way of walking, the sour expression on your face as you approached the bar at Angel's Share. Without a word, he turned and prepared your favourite drink for you, placing it in front of you with an understanding nod.
You thanked him and almost downed the drink entirely in one go. So it was that bad, huh?
Like always, he wanted to keep an eye on you the entire time, to ensure you wouldn't drink too much, but something came up and he had to leave the bartending to Charles on his own.
As he emerged from his office within the Angel's Share again after two hours had passed, he was surprised and concerned when he did not see you sitting at the bar anymore.
Alarmed, he was about to dash over to Charles to question him about your whereabouts, but then a shout ripped through the tavern, a voice he would recognise anywhere.
He turned to the source of the noise and found you sitting at one of the many tables in the tavern, surrounded by other people who were heavily drunk and singing along with the bards... just like you were.
Diluc turned again to look at Charles, who only spared him one apologetic look before he tended to other customers again.
"DILUC!"
The shout of his name brought him to turn his attention back to your drunken self, as you tried approaching him on your stumbling and unsafe legs. He caught you under your arms as you were about to fall right in front of him, but this only made you giggle more.
"Where have you been? You missed out on SOOO much fun!", you laughed and giggled while talking, raising your glass to your lips again to drink even more. But Diluc caught your hand before you could do so, gently taking the glass from your grip.
"I think you've had enough for the night, darling."
"No! I'm pracitcally sober! See?". You tried convincing him, but you were basically stumbling while only staying in one spot, so it wasn't exactly successful.
"Come on, it's time to get you to bed.", he said as he then gently picked you up, one hand supporting your upper body while his other arm was holding you under your legs.
You let out a surprised noise at the sudden motion, but soon started giggling again, wrapping your arms around his neck as Diluc carried you out the tavern and began the walk back to his mansion.
It was late at night already, but that didn't stop you from talking the entire time, commenting either about the time of day or what you were seeing upon your travels.
"WOW, did you see the shape of that bush?!"
"Has that flower always been there? ...Why is it staring at me?"
Diluc couldn't help but smile at your crazy talk. He wished he could see what you were seeing right now, but it's best if he didn't.
This carried on for a while, him carrying you like this while you commented on absolutely everything without pause, until suddenly, you slapped your hands against his cheeks, holding his face like that and making him look at you.
Surprised, he stopped walking, looking at you questioningly as you were practically staring him in the eyes, not saying anything.
"...What?", he asked after a few seconds of silence as you began squinting your eyes together.
"You have such a pretty face, you know that?", you suddenly said, before giggling again, letting go of Diluc's face again and hiding your own against his chest.
Meanwhile, Diluc had combusted into all the different shades of red at your compliment. His brain stopped working for a second at the unsuspected praise of his appearance.
When he tried nudging you, he noticed that you'd finally fallen asleep in his arms, looking peacefully unaware. Diluc sighed, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, whispering "Sweet dreams" into your ear as he carried on his way, holding you tightly against his chest.
He knew you would feel the full force of your drinking tomorrow morning, but he would be there as well, to help and comfort you through it.
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Xiao
He was still not too familiar with the customs of the humans, so he didn't think too much of it when you told him that you were going out for a few drinks with your friends.
He just nooded and wished you a good night with them while he would focus on his duties for the time you were going to be apart. Never would he have thought it would end like this..
The night has already progressed quite far, but there were still no signs of you coming back. And Xiao was slowly starting to get worried.
He hasn't heard anything from you at all. Normally, you would call his name and he would accompany you back home, to make sure you would arrive safe and sound.
But never before did it take you this long, you usually never stayed out this late.
So the fact that it happened now, made his mind spin with worry and a hundred different scenarios on what could have happened to you while he wasn't there to protect you.
As his thoughts kept wandering and getting worse by the second, he suddenly heard you... your voice... calling his name..
He was confused for only a second because your voice didn't sound as paniced like he had imagined it would, but that was quickly shoved to the back of his mind as he teleported to you.
To his surprise, he stood in the middle of a very crowded place, people all around him and shouting and singing very loudly with each other. Is this what you called a "tavern" earlier?
Xiao then looked around and spotted you not too long after. You were standing with your back turned to him, so he approached you, wanting to know why you called for him.
As he came closer, he noticed you standing with your group of friends. The closer he got, the better he began to understand what you were talking about.
"... so handsome! And his hair! Oh my god, his hair! It's so fluffly! Like, you wouldn't think it, but it's so..."
You were rambling, your friends laughing at your drunken monologue about your boyfriend, which made you pout.
"Hey! Don't laugh at me! It's true, Xiao is very handsome and loveable!"
Xiao froze in his tracks over hearing you say that. Was that why you called his name? Because you were gushing to your friends about him?
"Yeah, yeah, we know, (Name).", your friends were laughing and giggling even more at your pouting, to which you then decided to turn around to get another drink from the bar. Although those plans of your were long forgotten as you recognized the face of your boyfriend in the crowd.
"XIAO!", you screamed, a huge grin appearing on your face as you immediately ran towards him, startling the poor Adeptus even more. He was unsure how to react in this situation, but you just took care of that for him.
Jumping up into his arms, hugging your arms around his neck, you giggled as you burried your face into his neck. "What are you doing here?", you asked him after a minute, only now realizing how strange his presence here was.
"You.. called my name.", Xiao explained, a bit awkward since your friends were watching you two and he did not know how to handle you right now. You were acting so different than usual..
"I did? Really.. I don't remember..", you pondered, but moments later, it was already forgotten again as you hugged him again, giggling like a madman, continuing to mumble "Xiao.. Xiao.. my Xiao..", while you did so.
Xiao was blushing like crazy, and the best thing he knew to do right now was to escape this situation as soon as possible.
"I'll be taking her home now.", he said directed to your friends. Then, placing an arm around your back, he teleported you and himself back to his room at Wangshuu Inn, were he laid you down on the bed.
He would let you rest for now, but there were a lot of questions he needed you to answer tomorrow morning..
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Thoma
Thoma himself did not drink often, but he also never stopped you from doing so, knowing that you liked to go out from time to time to have fun this way. And he always took care of you when you had a terrible hangover the next day.
You always felt guilty about it and he would tell you that he didn't mind it a bit, but it didn't help your conscious at all. Still, the next best opportunity you got, you would do it again.
It became somewhat of a routine that Thoma would look after you when you overdid it with the drinking again.
Like today...
It was only supposed to be two or three drinks with some friends at a bar, but it escalated when a certain Oni came into the picture, challenging you to a drinking game which you could not turn down.
Thoma tried his best in talking you out of it, but your pride got the better of you. And now, you were horribly drunk, your head resting on the bar counter as you giggled and laughed at absolutely nothing.
Your friends and other spectators were laughing at you, as well as the drunk Oni next to you, while Thoma was shaking his head. He did feel pity for you, because the hangover would be gruesome, but on the other hand, he did warn you and you refused to listen to him. It was your own fault...
Deciding that enough was enough, he went over to you, gently patting your back.
"Come on, (Name). It's time to go home now.", he said as he took one of your arms to place it over his shoulder, while his other arms wrapped around your back so he could help you walk better.
You were barely conscious at this point, only unintelligable noises leaving your lips, interrupted by the occaisonal giggle or laughter.
The people made room for the two of you as Thoma helped you to get outside, the fresh air hitting your face and you soon felt like you became a bit more clear in the head again.
Suddenly realizing that you were walking, you looked at the figure next to you through squinted eyes. You didn't recognize much, other than the fact that whoever that was, they were looking rather handsome..
"Heeyy.. you come here often?", you asked, the words managed to come out after a few attempts. The person next to you was silent for a few seconds, then you heard a chuckle from them.
"You could say that, yes.", they answered you, which satisfied you for now. You nodded, walking in silence for a bit, until a new realization hit you.
"Wait.. where are we going?"
"I'm taking you home. You had a bit too much to drink, (Name)."
You only nodded again, letting this strange person walk you back to your home without further resistance. Maybe, if you were more sober, you would have realized the hidden dangers in this if the person next to you would have been anyone else..
As soon as you were through the door of your home and your head hit your soft pillow, your lights went out instantly and you were snoring softly, sleeping like a rock.
With a sigh, but also a fond smile on his lips, Thoma looked at you and shook his head as he made sure to pull the blankets over your body, before he left for now to gather a few herbs and medicine to help your recovery later...
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sapphicdealer · 7 months
Text
Consumed By Two Things
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Warnings: x fem!reader(afab), smut, tribbing,  scissoring, praise kink if you squint, oral sex (r! receiving), fingering, slight nipple play, edging (kinda)
✁Summary: Ada's love language is gift-giving.
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You’ve always known Ada to be big on gifting. Before she commenced on her missions, she’d take the time to write you letters and leave small notes scattered around, each marked with her lipstick on the bottom right corner and signed with her name. She was always thoughtful, making sure to leave something special behind to remind you that she was still thinking of you.
In her eyes, leaving these letters is her way of expressing her love for you and bidding you farewell in the most romantic way possible, in case anything were to happen on her missions.
Other times she’d purposely send you an influx of gifts; some are sentimental, others are miscellaneous, whether it be a dress to match hers or a necklace engraved with her name.
Though other times these gifts would be more intimate, Ada loves the way certain clothing items look on you; most often it would be lingerie that she found, so it didn’t surprise you when you received a gift from her in the mail that contained a red and black laced lingerie. You took the garments out of their packaging and into your hands. You peeked over in the box and saw a small note.
‘When thinking about something to gift you, my thoughts were consumed by two things: the colour red, which holds a special place in our closet, and the sight of you in the hue I cherish.’
-Ada
As you ran your fingers over the delicate red lace of the lingerie, you gazed upon its intricate floral pattern. Ada was not one to skimp on the quality of her gifts; she’d always made sure that you had the best quality. It was an average lingerie set; it was accompanied with a bra, suspender belt, and of course, the thong. The lace felt soft between your fingertips. You took the garments, placed them on the side, and drew off the clothes you were wearing previously. 
In contrast to the warmth of your flesh, the lace on the garment was smooth and glacial against your skin. You looked in the mirror at yourself, inspecting the delicates against your body in the mirror's reflection. As you gazed in the mirror, you felt a surge of confidence wash over you. 
You were entranced by the way it looked on your body. “It looks wonderful on you, darling.” The voice surprised you, but you recognised who it was. Your head turned towards your door seeing Ada standing.
“Ada, I didn’t notice you come in, you’re back from your mission already?” You missed Ada dearly, she was only gone for a couple of days yet to you it felt like months. She let out a soft hum in response. Ada approached you with a warm smile on her face, finding a place behind you to admire your look in the mirror, she placed her chin on your shoulder and hooked her fingers in the garter of your lingerie.
“I just couldn’t wait to see you in this.” She glided her fingers up toward your waist, kissing you lightly on the cheek. 
A warm glow suffused your cheeks, Ada looked up in the mirror you faced, her mind clouded with multitudinous fantasies she had at this moment, she wanted to touch you, but not like this, you’d look gorgeous, intoxicating. It was important for her to savour this moment before she indulged in her fantasies.
Ada turned you around to face her, drawing you closer by the waist. She raised her hand to your lips and traced her thumb along your bottom lip. You look up at Ada, dazed; there is something about her that makes you completely melt under her touch. She pressed her lips against yours, closing the gap between you. You missed the intimate and soft moments you both shared together. Ada’s fingertips were caressing your soft skin trailing around the details of the lingerie you pulled away slightly for a moment to look at her, “God, you’re so pretty…”. You hummed against her lips. You felt yourself getting lost in the moment—her soft lips against yours, her arms around your waist. She let out a soft moan against your lips, kissing you back feverishly.
She couldn’t resist the taste of your lips, the taste of you. You let out a soft whimper as Ada briefly withdrew and muttered in your ear, "The things you do to me…" She took a step back and drew off her red turtleneck dress.
Your eyes dart to her now-exposed skin, your eyes traced down to the curves on her body. She sat down on the bed and motioned for you to sit on her lap. You sat on her lap and Ada’s hands found their place just at your hips, she looked up in your eyes and muttered, “You’re okay with this, right?”
“Yes, I am.” With that said, Ada guided you onto her thigh, “I want you to ride my thigh, can you do that for me?” You nodded in response and started to remove your thong before Ada stopped you. 
“Don’t take it off, I want it on” You listened to her and started to get comfortable so you wrapped your arms around Ada and found yourself in a suitable position before you proceeded to grind your cunt against her thigh. Her thigh mixed with the fabric barrier combined was a bit frustrating, it didn’t provide you the stimulation you were looking for, it only sufficed you with an agonising feeling which made you want more, your eyebrows furrowed as you adjusted yourself against her thigh. Ada noticed the look on your face and angled her thigh upwards and used her hands to guide your hips. You found the momentum you were looking for, the stimulation you needed. “You’re doing so good for me…” She whispered in your ear.
As your hips rutted against Ada's thigh, you let out a low moan as you brought your head towards her neck. Ada kept guiding your hips and bringing you closer. You felt her breast pressing against your chest and your breath quickening. You wanted so badly to take off your lingerie, wanting to feel your clit against her flesh. 
“Ada… Please, can I take it off?” You felt yourself getting closer, yet you couldn’t reach there yet. You felt Ada's lips attach themselves on your neck. “Not yet, will you be a good girl for me and hold on for a bit longer?” She cooed against your ear, and you muttered a soft ‘yes’ and nodded. Then, using what little strength you had, you pressed against Ada's thigh while leaning in such a way to maximise pleasure for your clit. As you worked your way up to your peak, your body shook as you felt the release you wanted build up.
You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Ada felt her thigh pool with your wetness. She smirked and whispered in your ear, “That’s it, keep going”. You repeatedly thrust your hips against her thigh. Ada pressed you down against her thigh, motioning you back and forth, guiding you to reach your high you let out a loud cry as you came. Ada held you as you shuddered against her. She looked down at her thigh, seeing your wetness. She brought your hand up to caress your cheek, her fingers traced down to your neck, chest to your thighs, before pushing the lingerie to the side to access your cunt, gathering your cum, bringing her fingers to taste you, moaning at the taste. Ada made you lay on the bed, parting your thighs as she found a place between them and asked, “Do you think you have another one in you?”
You nodded frantically, “I need words”, Ada teased, you mustered out a desperate “Yes.” which made her smile in response.
She brought up her fingers to your mouth and asked, “Could you get them wet for me?” Without hesitation, your lips came into contact with her mouth. She pushed them in slightly, and Ada was able to feel how hot your tongue was. Feeling how it swirled around her digits, she couldn’t help but bite her lip, enjoying the feeling. “Just like that…” Ada slowly slid her fingers out of your mouth, letting out a pop sound. “Good girl.” she brought her fingers down to your clit, lightly circling it. She kept circling agonisingly; she was teasing you. It took a couple of pleas before she withdrew and replaced her fingers with her tongue, licking your slick, before she nipped at your clit “You taste so good.” her fingers sank into your sex, her tongue attaching to your clit. You threw your head back; your breath hitched, and Ada felt you squeezing her fingers, sucking them in. Ada heard your whimpers and couldn’t help but groan in response, “God, you're sucking in me so well…” She cooed, just her voice alone causing you to clench around her.
“Fuck… Ada…” You blurted between gasps as the woman at your slit found your sweet spot and began to repeatedly abuse that spot while sucking on your sensitive clit, causing you to jolt in response, moans becoming more high-pitched and pornographic, and your whining causing Ada wanting to give you more. Her fingers kept at that place, repeatedly hitting that one spot where you’d whine. She lapped your wetness, your mind going hazy as you started to feel overstimulated by the pleasure. Was it too much, no? But did it cause you to bite your lip and muffle your moans, yes. Ada noticed you were about to come, but your moans were practically silenced in her ears, which she didn’t like, so she withdrew her fingers and tongue away from your cunt, which left you whimpering and confused. “Ada- Why’d you stop…?” you questioned.
“Do a favour for me and don’t silence yourself.” She brought herself up to your face, placing her soft lips against your lips, making you taste yourself. Ada pulled away from your lips, and you sat up, wanting to feel her lips against yours. “Do I have to restrain you?” you shook your head, “So be a good girl for me, okay?” She cupped your cheeks in her hands, placing down another kiss. You responded, “I’ll be good!” You wanted to feel that pleasure again; you wanted to feel Ada. Being denied an orgasm only made you frustrated and needy for contact. To relieve some of that frustration, Ada finally decided to fully take off your lingerie—painfully slow.
“Ada, please-” you whined, as Ada kissed your lips as she pulled off your lingerie, pulling off the thin piece of fabric finally relieving your body, and what was barricading you. Her hands trailed down to your breast. Feeling her fingers circle your nipples, you let out a soft gasp and arched your back, wanting more. Ada's fingers teased you as she lightly pinched your nipples. “Ada I want to feel you.” She removes herself from your lips “You want to feel me?” She questions, looking down at you. Her fingers traced down your stomach and she proceeded to softly toy with your clit, was it intentional, yes. Ada wanted to hear what you wanted specifically. She looks up at you, “Like this? Or do you want something else?”
“No, fuck… I want to feel your pussy against mine.” You looked up at her with a pleading look. Ada smirked, hearing you say what you wanted between your lips. She lifted herself up and placed her leg over yours. She adjusted herself above you for a few moments, trying to find which angle had the best friction, it didn’t take her long as she found both you and herself jolt. She rubbed her clit against yours, her cunt felt soft, and warm, and her hips grinded down causing her clit to bump against yours, you felt sensitive, so hot, your hips moving against hers. The obscene sounds of your wet cunts rubbing against each other filled the room. The rhythm was perfect, Ada threw her head back in ecstasy, mewling as she held your leg down starting to feel sensitive from the pleasure being created. “You’re so perfect…” she murmured.  
Your mind was fuzzy, your mind only focusing on Ada and how she was making you feel, she moved her hands away from your legs and gripped onto your hips, pushing you down on the bed. You both moaned in pleasure, the pleasure only increasing as Ada moved her hips in a circular motion, sending you over the edge. You felt yourself get even hotter, feeling a familiar build-up in your stomach as Ada's touch sending you into a frenzy of pleasure through your body. Both of your movements became sloppy as you heard Ada moaning a mixture of your name and ‘fuck’ as she became closer to her peak You maintained the rhythm of your hips, maximising the pleasure between you two, you let out an audible gasp as Ada's lips grazed your neck, her head burying in your neck, your hand found their seat as they situated in her hair. Both of you trembled against each other Ada's breathing became ragged and rapid as both of you were close to climax. You felt her grip tighten around you and you knew she was close. Your hips motioned upwards as you both reached your peak at the same time and cried out in pleasure.
In a dazed state, and out of breath you had Ada lying against your chest. Your mind clouded with bliss. You took a moment to snap out of your haze. Ada looked at you with her soft gaze, noticing you were slightly out of it, she brought you back to reality by placing soft kisses on your neck.
“Are you feeling okay?” Ada said in a loving tone You nodded, muttering out a soft ‘yes’ escaped between your lips feeling your heart flutter in your chest. You pulled Ada closer as she held you close, taking her hand in yours.
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crheativity · 8 months
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SUMMARY: Someone's picked a fight with Prefect! But he isn't going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Not on his watch. Part 2! Part 1 w/ Cater and Azul can be found here.
WARNINGS: Prefect (you) gets hit in the face & a cut is on your head. Use of the words t*cked (in Vil’s part) and h*ll (in Silver’s)
COMMENTS: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MIGHT HAVE CARPAL TUNNEL SO WRITING IS HARD- I might be writing less for a while :( Not sure if I’ll do another part to this one (unless you guys request for it)! but also! This is also dedicated to two people! @vtoriacore (happy extremely late birthday!!) and @silvers-numberonefan!! I hope you guys like it!!
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It must be raining.
You were just out in a storm. That’s all.
That would explain the crack of thunder that collided with your face and gave you a throbbing headache. The warm liquid blurring your vision and dripping out of your mouth and nose was just the rain, not some unholy mix of blood and tears. The chills that froze you where you stood was just humidity and the cold, not adrenaline and raw fear.
And yet, even with your desperate brain trying to come up with some reasonable explanation, the only thunderstorm you could see in front of you was a student you couldn’t recognise. Not with your head pounding like this. Not with the thunder in your ears.
There was something about the boy that scared you. That wasn’t uncommon - this school was full of terrifyingly promising mages. But the scariest thing wasn’t how he wielded his magical pen with deadly accuracy, or how strong he so evidently was.
It was just how much he seemed to be enjoying the mix of horror and pain, of blood and tears, that must have been so evidently and delicately splashed across your face.
His smile twisted as he raised pen again, something in those cruel eyes of his setting off alarm signals in your aching head.
“This’ll teach you not to meddle where you don’t belong.”
The pen glowed, pure magic surrounding it as he prepared to shoot. His sadistic eyes were alight with entertainment. He knew what he was about to do. He didn’t care.
You squeeze your eyes shut and braced for the lightning.
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And then everything went black.
“Darling…“ Your boyfriend and the Pomefiore housewarden, Vil Schoenheit, knelt in front of you as you sat on the floor. His voice, normally so perfect and soothing was now strained and tense. Barely hidden traces of wrath seeped through his words as he gently tilted your chin to observe the bruises and blood on your face.
You had arrived not that long ago. Upon defending you from your assailant, Rook Hunt, Pomefiore’s vice housewarden had speedily brought you to Vil. After filling the housewarden in on the situation, one thing became abundantly clear to you:
Vil Schoenheit was ticked.
He pulled a phial full of green liquid out of his bag, not releasing the hand gently and delicately cupping your cheek. Unstopping the cork, he gently lifted it to your lips.
“Drink.” His voice was gentle, but firm. Tilting your head back, you slowly drank the potion. It had the taste of lime and the consistency of honey. Warmth began to flood through you as you drank. Slowly, miraculously, you felt the pain ease, and your cuts started to stitch back together. The bruises you had gained began to fade, and the pounding in your head relaxed. Bit by bit, the potion took effect.
Bit by bit, the storm’s damage was fading.
Vil reached back into his bag and pulled out some makeup removal wipes. Gently bringing your face closer to his, he delicately began clearing the blood away. His blonde hair framed his face perfectly as he worked, the purple ombré highlighting his matching eyes. Eyes normally filled with calm determination, a gentle storm of amethyst.
Now, however, they contained a different kind of storm.
A storm filled with conflict. A storm filled with both the desire to protect and the desire to avenge. One you knew would never hurt you. One you could get lost in, and know you were perfectly safe.
But, based on the way he was looking at you now, you weren’t so sure that the other boy would get off unscathed. You almost winced in sympathy for him.
Almost.
Vil quietly put the now empty potion bottle and used wipes back in his bag. He then turned to face you.
“Are you feeling all right? Any better than before?“ His eyes searched yours for any indication that you weren’t okay.
You gave a strained, tense smile. “I’m alright now. Thank you.”
His worries seemed to soothe a little, for a brief moment. Then, he cast his eyes towards the floor and mumbled a curse under his breath.
“I don’t know what that arrogant potato was thinking. If only I had been there, that fool would have significantly less to show for his impulsive idiocy…”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m alright, see?“ You wiggle your fingers in his face for proof, his smile becoming more relaxed when he saw you were alright enough to be silly.
“Still,” he huffed, “that unintelligent potato should know better. Who was he, by the way?”
You shook your head. “I don’t know. I think I’ve seen him around before, but never learned his name.”
Vil studied you, as if trying to figure out whether you were trying to protect your assailant - the filthy potato that attacked you - or if you genuinely didn’t know.
“In any case, it doesn’t matter, right? Everything’s okay now. As long as he leaves me alone, that is, haha…” you scratched your head awkwardly and smiled. It was nowhere near the perfect, practised smile that Vil gave his audience, but to him it was personification of beauty itself.
To him, you were the fairest of them all.
And to you?
You pondered this as you smiled at his perfect features. He truely was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. But your love for him wasn’t wrapped up in anything physical.
You simply loved him because of who he was. Flaws, insecurities and all. You loved the storm that he was - one that would always keep you safe, and never intentionally hurt you. The storm that would protect you as much as he was able. The one that had you dancing in and singing praises to the rain.
He smiled at you, wondering what thoughts were going through your head as he pulled you into a gentle, tight hug.
He was definitely going to ask Rook about that student. That potato would have to learn not to mess with you ever again.
After all, was it not the job of a ruler to protect those dear to them?
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The sound of ice clashing with metal screamed through the air, ripping open your eyes in shock. A boy in black and green stood in front of you, his sword raised in a defensive position. His silver hair shone in the light, and you could see his eyes reflected in the blade he wielded with deadly expertise.
His concerned eyes met yours in the blade’s reflection.
His eyes.
You didn’t even know where to begin in describing them. Some argued they were light purple, others light blue. Everyone agreed on one thing, though. They were as dazzling as an aurora, shining with determination like a gem in the light.
“Are you alright, Prefect?”
“I-”
“Don’t you dare ignore me!” Your assailant fired two more spells in your direction. Your saviour, Silver, blocked them with ease, wielding his sword with surprising accuracy for someone who had been asleep less than five minutes ago.
Sheathing his sword, he pulled out his magical pen and raised it in self defence. “Excuse me, but I’m afraid I can’t let you hurt the prefect. You should leave now.”
Your assailant barked out a derisive laugh. “Like hell I will.”
“If you continue to try and hurt them, I will continue to protect them. I will not hold back. Make your choice.” His words weren’t loud, nor angry. He was offering your assailant a decision - walk away with his honour in tact, or accept the consequences of his actions.
There was something about Silver that had evidently unnerved your attacker. Whether it was the way he held himself, the way he spoke with such levelheadedness and determination, or maybe even just the way he wielded both his sword and his pen with such confidence, you didn’t know.
“This isn’t over.” He hissed at you as he wheeled around and stormed off.
You blinked. The storm was over almost as quickly as it had began.
You sank to the floor, dazed. Silver turned around and, seeing you on your knees, quickly started towards you. He knelt in front of you.
“Prefect. I am going to inspect and treat your injuries now. Do I have your permission?” He waited, his eyes searching yours for consent. When you nodded, he immediately reached for you.
His touch was gentle as he took your arms, turning them over to check for any major injuries. Upon finding nothing of note, he brushed your hair away to see the wound on your head clearer. After inspecting it tenderly, he gave a satisfied nod.
“The wound isn’t very deep. I could heal it now, or we could go to the nurse if you’d prefer?” He smiled at you gently and reassuringly.
“Um… could you do it please? If the others hear I’ve visited the nurse, they’d get worried, so…”
“Of course.” Lifting his pen, he gently tapped your forehead. You closed your eyes as you felt your cut knit together. The pounding in your head slow and stopped, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
Opening your eyes, you met Silver’s. He looked concerned, but offered you that soft, caring smile of his. You realised then just how close you both were, and that he was still holding your hand, rubbing comforting patterns into it with his thumb.
The reality of what had just happened started to set in, and tears pricked at your eyes, stinging almost as bad as the injuries had. Silver smiled at you sadly, and opened his arms silently, offering a hug. You quietly accepted. He held you tightly, rubbing your back and remaining a solid support for you.
He always was.
Silver always had kept an eye out for you during your time at NRC. You hoped he always would, his presence was a comfort and a strength during your hardest times.
He had always provided shelter from the storm.
And he always would.
(BONUS)
“Ahh, young love!” Lilia had found the two of you, fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Pulling out his phone, he snapped a photo with a devious smile.
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♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
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helloalycia · 2 months
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𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑
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two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad
summary: the usual story of a girl falling for a girl who eventually becomes her brother's girlfriend. What could go wrong?
warning/s: none.
author's note: here’s another jackie one i wrote a while ago as i’m trying to post some stuff i’ve already written whilst working on a bunch of other stuff lol, this one was super fun to write so i hope you enjoy it!
also i googled what grades and ages are in america but it well confused me so sorry if it's wrong lol
y/b/n = your band’s name and y/bf/n = your best friend's name
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5 years old.
"You're gonna love it, Y/N, I just know it," my brother, Jeff, was encouraging me as he walked by my side, holding my hand.
I smiled nervously, looking up at him and immediately being put at ease. It was my first day of kindergarten and I'd been super nervous the last few weeks, wondering what it would be like. Jeff was a year older than me, so it was his first day of first grade but he never seemed scared about these things. I wanted to be just like that.
"Okay, my darlings, this is where I leave you," our mum said, stopping by the front gates. She kneeled down to hug us both, adding, "I love you so much. Have the best first day. Okay? And Y/N, if you're worried, your brother is here for you, alright?"
I nodded, squeezing her tightly, before letting go. Jeff gave me a smile before leading me through the gates.
"You're gonna go that way, over there," he told me, pointing to the line forming by the front of the school. "Just look out for me over here, okay?"
"Thanks, Jeff," I said, hugging his side briefly before making my way to the queue that was forming. Other kids like me, nervously awaiting their first day.
After the teacher greeted me and led me to the queue, I waited patiently for the rest of the class to settle down and glanced over to the other queue across the playground, where Jeff was. He was surrounded by his friends, all grinning as they reunited, and I recognised a few of them from play dates at home. My eyes scanned the line he was in, glancing between the other students. And that's when I saw her.
At the time, I didn't know her name. I soon discovered it was Jackie Taylor. But I didn't care at that moment because all I was focused on was how pretty she looked, laughing with some other girls. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two ponytails, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement, even all the way across the playground. I didn't know what liking somebody was that young, I just knew that the butterflies in my stomach and my inability to look anywhere but at her wasn't normal.
I suppose that was where my crush on Jackie Taylor began.
14 years old.
"Y/N, I need your advice."
I looked up from the book I was reading to see Jeff hanging by the doorway of my room. He was unusually sheepish, making me lower my book and raise an eyebrow.
"What's up?" I asked, making space for him on my bed.
He let himself in my room, jumping on top of the bed and crossing his legs. "So... you're a girl, right?"
I tried not to laugh. "Last time I checked."
He was nervous. "Sorry, I know, I just meant– you know how girls think. And I... I think I like a girl. At school. And I wanted your opinion."
Intrigued, I said, "Which girl? What's she like?"
"I think you might know her," he said. "Or at least have seen her around. Y'know Jackie Taylor in my grade? Blonde hair, about your height, really hot?"
At the mention of Jackie, a girl I'd been crushing on since I first set eyes on her, my smile faded slightly. I'd seen her around a lot at school, since she was only in the grade above, and though I'd never spoken to her, it was easy for me to get stuck in admiration from afar. Of course I knew I had zero chances with her, but now knowing Jeff liked her too was like the world's way of confirming that my fantasy of being with Jackie Taylor was just that, a fantasy.
"Oh, yeah, Jackie Taylor," I said after a moment, hiding my surprise. "She's pretty."
"She is," he agreed with a smile that was reminiscent of my own whenever I saw her. "I think she might be interested in me too. Randy said her friend Shauna was asking about me."
"Well, that's gotta be a good sign," I said with a slight smile, trying to ignore the pit of despair and focus on being happy for my brother. "What's the problem then?"
He sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure whether I should ask her out or play the long game a little. What d'you think?"
I scratched my head to buy some time as I thought. "Erm... well, from a girl's perspective, I wouldn't want someone to mess around for too long if they liked me. And Jackie seems like quite the catch. If you don't make your move, somebody else might."
He nodded, actually paying attention to me surprisingly. "You're right, you're right... I should ask her out before someone else does."
"Exactly," I agreed.
He thought about it for a moment before beginning to smile. "You're so right, Y/N. Thank you!"
Before I could react, he hugged me quickly, and that was when I knew that no matter what feelings I thought I had for Jackie Taylor, it didn't matter anymore. She was off limits.
Of course, when I wished it would just end there, it didn't. Turns out Jeff was terrible at making the first move, or at least finding the opportunity to. So much that when he begged me to try out for the soccer team a few days later, claiming he needed a reason to talk to her, I had no choice but to oblige. I loved my brother and I knew he'd do the same for me, so I pushed my own feelings aside and did what I could to help. No matter how humiliating it would be.
Soccer was not my forte. Music was my thing. I played the guitar and piano, putting my time into that as an extracurricular, not sports. So, when I showed up for soccer tryouts after school, Jeff by my side for 'support', I was a nervous wreck.
"Jeff Sadecki," Jackie said when we approached her, a flirty smile on her lips. And then her eyes fell to me. "And you must be Y/N, his sister. Nice to meet you."
I smiled awkwardly, realising just how badly I was crushing when I heard her speak. She knew who I was?
"Take it easy on my sister, yeah?" Jeff said playfully, wrapping an arm around me, to which I shoved him off instantly.
"Oh, I'm sure she can handle whatever I throw her way," she retorted, before glancing at me kindly. "Right, Y/N?"
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I mumbled, already dreading tryouts.
She must have thought I was kidding as she laughed. "You head over there to stretch. I'll be right over."
I obeyed, relieved to be away from the flirty glances her and my brother were exchanging that were making me nauseous.
After stretching and hoping I wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing, I glanced over at Jackie and Jeff, seeing her twirling her hair as she spoke to him. He was ecstatic, and I wanted to die. Finally, he went to sit in the bleachers to watch, and Jackie joined us soon enough.
"Okay, ladies, soccer tryouts start now!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, clapping her hands together. "Hope you're all ready to show the Yellowjackets your worth!"
I groaned inwardly at her enthusiasm.
Tryouts was the worst thing I'd ever endured. Between drills, shooting and scrimmage, I was breathless after an hour. How the hell did people play soccer for fun? It was exhausting! The only thing that made this a little worth the hassle was having a front row view of Jackie, who was admittedly drool-worthy in her soccer uniform. Even when she was yelling orders, I still found myself distracted and unable to focus on an already boring sport.
It was especially embarrassing when I was attempting to practice taking goals and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to land a shot. Some of the other girls who were trying out were laughing at me, I could hear them, and even some of the Yellowjackets team were mumbling between each other, no doubt about how terrible I was. Everything we'd done until now, I'd failed. But this was just the cherry on top.
Whether it was because I was Jeff's little sister, or because she genuinely pitied me – possibly both – Jackie tried to help out.
"Kick with the side of your foot," she said, as I lined up another shot. "Don't overthink it. Just aim and kick!"
Wanting this to just be over already, I tried to do as she said and took the shot. Naturally, the ball went completely past the net, and the goalkeeper, Van, didn't have to move a muscle as she watched it roll away. Face flaming with embarrassment, I shook my head.
"It's okay, maybe shooting isn't your strength!" Jackie tried to reassure.
We both knew none of this was my strength, but I said nothing as I rejoined the line and let the next girl go.
If that wasn't awful enough, the last part of tryouts approached and I soon found myself playing in a scrimmage as a midfielder, trying my best to keep up with the game and not make a further fool of myself. Luck didn't seem to be with me, as when someone shouted my name and I prepared myself to catch the ball at my feet, I didn't step back quickly enough and it hit me right in the face, sending a burst of pain up my nose and me on my arse.
Horrified as people began to rush up to me to check if I was okay, I tried to assure them I was fine, but it was looking more and more unbelievable as blood ran from my nose. 
"Guys, give her some space!" Jackie said, before making her way through the crowd to check on me. Worriedly, she grabbed my face and inspected my nose. "Fuck... C'mon. I should get you to the nurse's office."
"Oh my god, Y/N...," Jeff appeared, slowing down when he saw the state of me. He clearly found it amusing as he stifled a smile. "Are you okay?"
I glared at him as Jackie helped me stand up.
Both her and Jeff led me to the nurse's office, though their attention was more on each other than it was on me. I tried not to sulk about it as I went to get seen to and watched them flirt outside the door, clearly getting what they wanted. I'd made a fool of myself in front of Jackie for sure, but it didn't matter because Jeff seemed happy enough, and I guess that was all that mattered.
After that awful day, it was safe to say I didn't make the team, not that that was the aim. But Jeff did finally ask Jackie out, and after a few more dates, they became official. Their relationship was sweet, and Jackie was exceptionally polite to me, but that was because she saw me as her boyfriend's little sister and nothing more.
I knew it was for the best and hoped it would help me get over my crush on her, but it really didn't.
Shortly after they started dating, it was clear that I had my responsibilities as the boyfriend's little sister. Jackie approached me one day at school, where I was chatting with some of my friends by my locker. Because of how smart and pretty and kind Jackie was, she was pretty well known in my grade also, and it was always seen as cool to know someone in the grade above. So, when she found me, my friends immediately fell silent, amazed at the fact I was talking to a tenth grader.
"Hey Jackie, what's up?" I asked, wondering what she needed.
She flashed a picture perfect smile to my friends, who were either drooling over her or stunned into silence, then looked back to me. "I wanted to ask if you were coming to the game later?"
"Game?" I asked with confusion.
"My soccer match," she clarified.
"Oh, er...," I started, but wasn't really sure what to say because I didn't know I needed to, or that she'd want me there. "I think Jeff is?"
"I know that, silly," she laughed, making my heart skip a beat annoyingly enough, "but I wanted you to come too! Thought it could be fun and I could use the support."
Feeling like I had no choice, I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."
She grinned. "Awesome!" Then she glanced at my friends saying, "You guys should come too. The more, the merrier."
They nodded awkwardly, and she smiled at me once more before leaving. And that was how I got roped into attending the Yellowjackets' soccer games, as someone who had zero interest in soccer.
Maybe it was because she was dating my brother that she felt she needed to spend time with me, I wasn't sure. But for whatever reason, Jackie tried her best to chat with me whenever she was around, or hang out with me a little.
The first time she tried was after school, when she was hanging out with Jeff at our house. I was in my room doing some homework when there was a knock at my door, and after letting whoever it was in, Jackie appeared.
"Oh," I said, surprised. "Hey, Jackie."
"Hey," she said with a smile, before letting herself in and looking around. "Cool room."
I glanced around, as if to see what she was seeing. It was nothing special, just some posters blu-tacked on the walls, mismatched bedsheets on my bed and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Still, I smiled a little, acknowledging her comment.
"So, what're you doing?" she asked, sitting at the edge of my bed, before her eyes fell to the keyboard and guitar on the side. "Oh, that's cool! You play?"
I watched as she got up to take a closer look, though clearly not familiar with the instruments as she was reluctant to touch anything. "Yeah, I took lessons as a kid and it kinda became my favourite thing."
"Leave it to Jeff to not tell me how cool his little sister is," she mumbled with amusement, and it stung just a little, the reminder of how she saw me. Glancing at me hopefully, she asked, "Can you play something for me?"
"I actually have homework to do," I said apologetically, but also glad for the out, because she didn't need to know that most of the stuff I'd composed was inspired by her.
"Oh, right, yeah, duh," she said with a laugh, before approaching my desk and hovering above me, making me forgot how to breathe. "What you working on? English?"
All I could do was nod.
"Need a hand?" she asked helpfully. "I already did this and I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."
"Oh, I think I've got it–" I tried to stop her, but she was already grabbing the seat to my keyboard and pulling it next to me.
"I don't mind, honest," she said sweetly, before grabbing my book and taking a look.
With no choice but to accept her help, I let her. And that was when I realised she was just trying to be nice to me, and I kind of had to accept.
She'd do that occasionally, or greet me in school when she didn't need to, and I thought that getting to know her like this might help eradicate my crush on her, since it was based on a fantasy of what I thought I knew about her. Unfortunately, it only made me like her more because I got to know her as more than the fantasy in my head, and it turned out that the real Jackie Taylor was still worth crushing on.
It was about a month into hers and Jeff's relationship when they broke up. I wasn't sure how or why, just that one day Jeff came back from a date looking annoyed and told me in a firm statement that he and Jackie were over. I wasn't sure what to think, nor how it really affected me other than I'd lost out on a somewhat decent relationship with Jackie. It was even more awkward when I realised Jackie had promised to tutor me for an upcoming English test and I wasn't sure if she'd even talk to me, or if I was supposed to talk to her.
The following Monday after their break up, I saw Jackie around at school but didn't know whether I could speak to her or not. But then she came to me at my locker, as if nothing was wrong.
"Hey, you still free after school for that tutoring?" she asked with her usual friendly smile.
"I... yes?" I answered, though it was more of a question because of how confused I was.
"Okay," she laughed, "why do you seem so puzzled?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, did you think I was gonna bail because Jeff and I broke up?"
I pursed my lips uncomfortably. "Yes?"
She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not. What happened between Jeff and I is separate to us, Y/N. I mean, he's definitely a jerk, but that doesn't make you one."
I smiled awkwardly, unsure what exactly he'd done to be deemed a 'jerk' but also not caring enough to ask.
"Meet you in the library after school?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Surprised but also appreciative that she was still willing to tutor me, I nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, Jackie. Thanks."
She flashed me a smile before leaving.
Tutoring happened as planned and I aced my test the day after. But then the day after that, Jackie and Jeff were suddenly back together like nothing had happened, and once she told me it was a mistake upon seeing my confusion, I soon realised they had one of those relationships. They'd break up over stupid stuff but ultimately get back together, and as exhausting as it was to witness, I knew it wasn't my business.
15 years old.
I sat and ate my dinner as my parents chatted Jackie's ear off about soccer and her studies. She was over for the evening as Jeff's date, courtesy of my parents, a somewhat regular occurrence lately. And I didn't mind, but it was getting a little tiring listening to the same thing all the time. Though, I regretted thinking that as soon as the conversation turned to me.
"...yes, she's started a band with her friends," my mum was telling Jackie. "They're playing the school dance next week."
Jackie immediately looked to me with amazement. "Wait, you're Y/B/N? You and your friends?"
I grew embarrassed as everyone looked at me. It was true that some of my friends and I had started a band, mainly because we were bored and needed an outlet from school, but also because it was something fun to do on the side. It wasn't a secret, but it was the last thing I wanted to discuss at dinner.
"Yeah, it's just something new," I said dismissively.
"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N, you guys are great," Jeff said encouragingly, and I smiled gratefully at him. As far as older brothers went, he was pretty good.
"I cannot wait to see you perform," Jackie said with an excited smile. "It's gonna be so cool."
"Let's hope so," I said lightheartedly.
"She's a little nervous, since it's their first live performance," my mum decided to embarrass me further, making me avoid everyone's eyes. "It'll be lovely to have support already in the crowd."
"Oh, of course!" Jackie continued brightly. "The team and I are gonna be there for you, Y/N. And if you want, I can help you get ready for the dance beforehand, I don't mind."
"Oh, no, you don't need to–"
"That's very generous of you, Jackie!" my mum exclaimed, cutting me off. "Thank you!"
Jackie grinned, eyes flickering to mine as I wished to be swallowed up by the ground there and then. Jackie Taylor helping me get ready for a school dance? No, thanks.
But due to my mum's insistence, that was how I found myself sat on my bed a week later, with Jackie doing my makeup.
"Your shirt is what colour again?" she asked as she scanned the eyeshadow palette in her hand.
"Black, but the skirt is blue," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping she couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest.
I wasn't handling the whole having my crush inches away from my face thing very well, and I was certainly having a hard time hiding it.
"Okay, great, I have the perfect idea," she said with a grin, before coating her brush in a colour and leaning forward again. "Close your eyes for me?"
Relieved I wouldn't have to look at her, I closed my eyes and let her apply my eye makeup, trying not to focus on the warmth emanating from her or the way the pad of her finger would gently rub at my skin or the caress of her breath as she exhaled. Nope, not focusing on any of it.
"So, any boys caught your eye that you're gonna dance with tonight?" she asked as she worked.
"Erm, not really, no," I mumbled.
She paused, and I almost opened my eyes to see why, but then she said, "Any girls? Because that's okay, too."
My cheeks were hot and I was relieved my eyes were closed otherwise she would've seen, truly, how flustered I was.
"No," I finally answered, clearing my throat. "I mean, it's okay, but no."
Did I just come out? Probably. But it wasn't a secret, and Jackie didn't seem to care.
"That's okay, just wait until they all see you perform," she said supportively. "Girls are suckers for musicians."
Yeah, but not the girl I wanted.
"Speaking of performing, is it gonna be originals or covers?"
"Covers for now," I answered, glad we were discussing something I was comfortable with. "The originals aren't ready for performing just yet."
"Ooh, so there are originals," she said in a playful tone. "Did you write any?"
"Some, yeah."
"Okay, eye makeup is done," she said quickly, and I opened my eyes to see her searching for a lipstick, but she continued talking, "And do I get to hear any of these originals?"
"Not yet," I quipped with a nervous smile, and I secretly hoped she'd never ask again because they were all about her.
She pouted playfully and I was forced to look away, a tornado twisting in my stomach because of how cute she looked.
After a moment, she lifted a dark red colour in the air with enthusiasm. "This is the one."
I assumed she'd give it me to put on, but she instantly uncapped the lipstick before leaning close again, grabbing my chin softly and painting my lips red. I was paralysed at the contact, my eyes flickering between hers. They looked greener than usual because of her green shirt, and then I started focusing on the space behind her head, realising I was staring.
"I think this is my best work yet," she said with pride, letting go and looking at me way more than I preferred. "You're really nervous, aren't you? Don't worry, you're gonna be great, Y/N."
Yeah, not nervous for what she thought... but I'd take it.
"Okay, get ready so I can see the final look," she feigned impatience, smacking me with her hands.
"Okay, okay, geez, Jackie." I got up as she laughed, and grabbed my clothes from the hangar.
I changed behind my wardrobe door, physically incapable of changing in front of her. When I stepped out, hair and makeup fully done, I glanced in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw, not really doubting Jackie's abilities. I turned to show Jackie, who stood up from the bed and looked me up and down, leaving me nervous all over again.
"You. Look. Beautiful," she said with a kind smile, approaching me and fixing my hair from the front.
"Thanks, Jackie," I said, both flustered and with appreciation.
Her eyes continued to take in my whole appearance, making me avoid meeting her gaze as I distracted myself with pulling on my shoes.
"So, are you not getting ready?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, Jeff said he'd drop me back off to mine so I can get ready with Shauna," she said. "Just wanted to make sure you were good to go first."
"Well, thanks, I appreciate it."
Once my shoes were on, I grabbed my jacket and opened my bedroom door, holding it open for her. Walking her downstairs, we stopped by the front door and Jeff and her left for her place whilst my mum dropped me off to the school early so the band and I could get ready.
The school gym was already decorated for the dance, the stage set up with our instruments. I found my friends backstage and smiled at how coordinated we all looked with our outfits.
The band was made up of myself on the guitar and keyboard, Y/BF/N on the drums, Tommy on vocals and guitar and Aaron on bass. We'd all been friends since kindergarten and grew closer in Music class, and they were a tight knit group that I couldn't imagine being without.
We'd practiced a lot since officially forming about a month ago, so I wasn't doubting our ability to sound good, but the dance was our first proper live performance and it was still a little nerve wracking.
"Okay, guys, this is it," Tommy said as we all got ready for the curtains to open. "Not a big deal, but also could be the difference between high school suicide and surviving the next three years."
"No pressure, in other words," Y/BF/N said sarcastically, making Aaron and I laugh.
"We've got this," I assured them all. "Good luck, gang."
They all returned it before we got into our positions and waited for the principal to announce us. I clutched my guitar pick and took a deep breath once I heard our name, then the curtains opened revealing the sports hall full of students, including Jeff, Jackie and all of her teammates.
They all smiled supportively, and I admittedly let my gaze linger on Jackie for a second longer than I should have. I couldn't help it – she looked so pretty in her purple satin dress, enough that I almost missed my cue to play because of how distracted I was.
We performed a few covers smoothly, making no mistakes and eventually falling into our usual rhythm, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a set, the DJ took over and we all left our instruments onstage before leaving to have a break.
"I can't believe we just did that," Y/BF/N said with amazement.
"Neither can I," Tommy agreed with a laugh before pulling us all into a group hug.
After having the ultimate debrief of our performance, still in disbelief and on a high from it all, we went our separate ways to catch up with others, and Jeff and Jackie found me immediately.
"Y/N, that was awesome!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw me, before pulling me in for a hug. "You were amazing up there!"'
I chuckled, blushing. "Thanks, Jeff. You think everyone liked it? Like actually?"
"Of course they did!" he said like I was stupid. "Y'know how cool you are now?"
"Hey, she was always cool," Jackie said, smacking him playfully before shooting me a smile that made me weak in the knees; she was even prettier up close. "Y/N, you were amazing up there. Real badass. The team thought so too."
"Thanks, Jackie," I said with a nod, heart racing just a little more than usual.
"You're not on a for a while now, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and all it took was for me to shake my head before she grabbed my hand and led me to the dancefloor with Jeff. "Good, you can dance with us!"
"Oh, I don't know–"
"Let loose, Y/N," she insisted with a grin, before dragging me to where her teammates were.
And as soon as they saw me, they showered me in compliments and I was flustered the whole time, not used to the attention. It was kind of Jackie to have them cheer me on, but it was also just another reminder that they all saw me as Jeff's little sister. Still, I tried to focus on how great the night had been and let myself enjoy it.
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darlingofvalyria · 8 months
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❝Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.❞
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[ Never piss off your wife. She might acquire a living, breathing punishment for you. Aka, Daemon made a mistake and you're his punishment ft. Rhaenyra stay winning. ]
[ +18 MDNI ] [ 1,985 ] | Daemyra x Sugar Baby!Reader
contains— sugar mommy x sugar baby, open relationship/understandings, toxic relationship??? allusions of cheating, established realtionship - nsfw: oral, p & v sex, v & v sex, pet names mainly: darling, sweet girl, good girl, praise, male masturbation shshhs - you piss the shit outta daemon (as you should), slight angst? - sort of daemon-focused since it's in his pov, but rhae's the only one allowed to touch you lol - no targcest bc its the modern world and that would be weird.
a/n— i dont want to talk about it, okay. comment/reblog/like at will ❤️️
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Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.
With your soft noises encouraged to heighten in pleasure whenever Rhaenyra had you over- and after initial test drive of the first few times, stretched in months to weeks to days - she had you over all the time, at random times of the day. Any time the boys or his girls weren't by (being taken care of in the park, Harwin or Laena's visitation rights, Rhaenys wanting to take them off for Corlys weekend fishing trips)- your mewls turned unbridled shouts of pleasure now filled the high-rise.
You permeate the space like a cigarette stain; you didn't even need to be godsdamned present anymore. It starts with your perfume- it's lighter than Rhaenyra's but heavier in sweetness. Vanille. A touch of it that he's foul to recognise. Lipstick stains on his wife's neck, her blouse, where he can imagine your lips drag and bite and suckle because the kids are too young to understand and it's not like he's not one to leave his own marks, but there's a thunderous boil that drums in his veins when he realises you're leaving your own on his wife.
You fill the nooks and crannies like a plague, and you don't even care about him.
Worse, you taunt him.
And it's not like he could say anything to Nyra.
After all, the two of them had an understanding after he got caught with a minor dalliance of his own. It was a one time thing, and he only got blown, but it was enough for a talking to. A mutual agreement that was really just him pacifying his wife.
He really should have focused on the crooks of how upset she had been, on the gleam in her eyes when he thought she had simmered down. That her fire, though not as brightly lit, was still very much burning.
"You can have any sweet thing that you want, husband, as long as you keep them away from the kids. As long as you keep it quiet and away from me. I do not want the details." Nyra's mouth had curled. He remembered. She took up the space behind him, wine-kissed as she was, her fingers dancing on his shoulders and kneading at the tough centre of the nape of his neck. His eyelids fluttered and he barely heard her next words.
"In return, you will not make a fuss when I take mine, hm?"
Daemon had laughed. He remembered that. A soft, more air than sound laugh.
He took her hand to his lips and smirked up at her. Shark-like. Baiting. Daring. "As you wish, wife. In return, you can tell me all about it."
There was a strong part of Daemon that didn't think she'd actually do it.
Rhaenyra had smiled that smile that reminded him of godswoods and Valyrian necklaces, passed down from generation after generation. A silent vow louder drew from blood.
There was a strong part of Daemon who thought his wife was jesting, making a bluff, a toss of a coin.
Until you arrived with a sweet smile and a tinkling little laugh.
Until he had found his wife with her face buried between your legs, your hands— freshly done nails and glimmering rings, new, he later found out from the bank transcripts — and your back arched, your mouth gaping in a silent scream as you come undone.
It took a minute for you to see him, so stuck in that pleasure that broke and free-fell through you several times because 'Nyra didn't want to let up, calling you her sweet girl, her darling girl, that's it, you can take more, can you? aren't you my good girl?
When your thick lashed-eyes finally met his darkened lilac gaze, lipstick still perfect red, still perfectly plump and moist, your mouth curls into a charming little smile and said, "Oh, hello there."
Rhaenyra looked up, and at the smirk on her face, your spend all around her ruined lipstick and chin— Daemon knew she wanted him to see. Wanted him to know. It's a bullet shot down his spine, straight to his cock. It's a cold thrill and grasped fingers around his throat with rings nestled to make indents.
It's a violent blend of jealousy and lust, and the cocktail emotion rages in him, swirls and punctures.
There is a bite between Rhaenyra and Daemon, a fiery edge that often saunters the edges, crosses a new line. But each time, after each rough push, they come back to one another; a tether of becoming, of pulling taunt. Once again united. They are assured in each other's positions; you can play with anyone but you always come back to me.
Rhaenyra has won this one. She had snapped, pulled, and arose victorious.
But they always come together. And often, enjoyed sharing.
What Daemon forgets sometimes is that he is a younger brother, and really, Rhaenyra was the eldest and the sole eye of her father. When righteous selfishness burns with a petty need to make her husband suffer, it heels hard.
"She is mine, husband," she whispers at the edge of his lips, riding him through a slick, sex-haze after you had left. Her thighs slap against his own, his hands harsh on the indents of her waist as she rode him with no abandon, uncaring for his pleasure this time, selfishness the game this time, but the renewed roughness brought him to the early days of their marriage. That unbridled want, a clash of teeth and skin and raw, burning lust.
There is a growl and a hiss, a moan and a gasp; blood has beaded through bitten flesh and bruises are blooming. This is fucking from the high of a third party dancing on their marriage.
And Rhaenyra's refusal of you to him made him throb.
She had seen him high-strung, plotted him to be harder than a box of rocks, already harshly yanking his tie in anticipation of having his wife and you with your fox gazes and sire song, but Rhaenyra had turned away from him, ignored him, and slapped your thigh before kissing your cheek.
"Come back next time, darling, my husband is home." It was said in a tease, a lighthearted joke between two people he was not a part of, but he knew his wife; recognised the bite. The smugness.
And by god, you were in on it as you thrilled a laugh and slid your gaze to his, undressing and fucking him with your eyes as you bit your lip. Your words are to Rhae, a hand on her cheek and a thumb rubbing at the corner of her lip, but your gaze is devouring him. He wasn't a green boy, but you seemed amused and feral for the hard-line of his manhood. As if you can picture what he would feel like buried deep inside your guts, and enjoyed it.
"Am I just going to be yours then, hm?" you asked amusedly, finally turning to her.
Nyra turned her gaze then, to him, and smirked. "You, I will not share. A fitting punishment, don't you think? Some jewels are meant for one alone."
And you had laughed, the gall of you, taking your bag (new one too,a matching one with his wife) and walking right past him. Your scent- his wife's fucking scent, the smell of her cunt on you and his dick throbbed - devoured him as you left him with a wink and a quiet, "too bad."
You had not even gone inside the elevator of their penthouse before a growl tore through his chest and he had met Rhaenyra's thundering footsteps with his own, their tongues and teeth clashing for dominance, ripping apart clothes, wanting to bury each other in the other's skin.
Now, she reaches her peak with a yell and a full body shudder, her cunt clenching and squeezing, demanding his release, and he jolts with her with a swear of his own, his cum flooding her in thick, sharp bursts.
Even then, as Rhae smiled sweetly, post-peak glow simpering her fire, sweetening her kisses against the side of his face, his neck, running a tongue over the worst of the bruises and bites— Daemon thought, surely, now that his wife had reached post-coital bliss and forgiven him, punishment had been had? That he was free to have you, to play with you?
But no. You were off limits. Hers and hers alone. A punishment that keeps on giving as the echoes of you exist in his life in patterns he was starting to fucking loath.
The scent in the bath- the echo of the warmth of someone having used it recently, someone who wasn't his wife, in the pillows of his living room, the barest smudge of makeup as if your face had been pushed against them. In the snacks and drinks that he, nor his wife, nor their children, particularly like, fill up the corners of his kitchen. The lipstick stains on his wife, the running mill in the bank statements (the new necklaces, new dresses, new fucking lingerie he hasn't seen), and when he had finally had enough, shoving through his own house to talk to his wife that the least she could do while she was fucking you was be allowed to be there, he hears it then—
Your shouts of pleasure falling into sighs into giggles, and when he slows to his marital bedroom, you are there— breathing heavily, alive, real— naked and slicked, a goddess divine, with Rhaenyra inside you in more ways than one, baring her teeth in a victorious grin before falling into a laugh at his face.
"Am I allowed to have him now, is that it?" you ask, seemingly innocent. One of the new necklaces in his statements on your neck and nothing else. Chest moving in shuddering breath having just orgasmed and yelling it.
"Your choice, sweet girl," Rhae purrs, leaning back over your form to run a finger from the valley of your breasts to your stomach to your clit that turns your shudders to an outright jolt, then a sigh, when she starts fingering you in front of him. The squelch is obscene, and Daemon is hard, and he is not a fucking boy but he is starting to hate you as much as he wants to fuck the lazy smirk on your face, pleasure so obviously building once again. Soft sighs, mewls, escaping full, raw lips.
"I kind of... want him to watch a little. Just- ah! Nyra there, please - sit still and pretty." You smirk, giving him a pouty air kiss. The urge to strangle you sings in his blood. Hold you down and fuck you until you're better pliant, sweeter, fucking cooing for him. Fuck the spoil Rhaenyra has ingrained in you away.
You turn to the silver-haired woman on top of you, now on her haunches, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. She held his gaze as she pressed her tongue flat against before taking a glorious, heavy-gazed lick.
Daemon swallows.
"Is that- ahhh, okay? Nyra, hmm? Please?" You sigh ever so sweetly, kindly. Though you're ridiculously spoiled, you were a good girl, following so obediently. If his cock didn't feel like it was burning to be inside your mouth, he would have revelled in it.
You squirm, turning back to him to hold his gaze while his wife started to fuck you through her tongue and fingers.
Someone up there was taking a piss on him. He pulls out his cock, a grunt and a curse, because fuck it, fuck you in particular— as the two of you continued on while keeping eye contact with him.
He took one step closer and Rhaenyra hissed.
"Whatever you want, baby." Nyra smirks against your pussy as he tugged at himself, teeth bared. "You're his punishment after all."
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