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ophelieverse · 2 months

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Can you please write anything you want with Aegon and Tully!reader?I love this house and no one use them to write images🥺

ʚ the lovers ɞ

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

I also like House Tully,even though i don’t like Cat and Lysa but I’m more than willing to write a Tully reader.

Aegon and Y/n are married,now that he is king he doesn’t have much time to spend with his wife so she takes the matter in her own hands.

A little smutty piece that i don’t know how to feel about😪

Thank you for requesting and let me know what you think💕

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The midday sun was burning in the sky with all the violence this time slot could offer on a mid-summer day.

The hot rays of the sun were beating on the streets markets,roofs and the chairs at the corner of their balcony.If she squeezed her eyes,Y/n could even see the air vibrating on the railing.

Till a moment ago,in the shared maritals chambers of their majesties a small servant girl was using a fan,moving the hot air from one side to the other,without really doing much to bring relief.

The temperature was so high that even the floor had cooled,and staying there lying on the ground was becoming counterproductive,as well as uncomfortable.

Y/n turned on her side,grunting when the hard stoned floor met her bones,the heat that killed her every initiative to get up was trailing up her bare legs till her back.

Not too bad... from the new location she could admire a much better view than the sky paled by the heat.

Aegon,the new King of the Seven Kingdoms and her adored husband,was sitting at the large table in the middle of their chambers a few steps away from her.The thin shirt sleeves rolled up over the elbows,the unbuttoned collar and a wrinkle of concentration between the eyebrows.In front of him a stack of backlog reports to complete.

His cheeks were redden thanks to the heat and the wine,pale hair stuck to nape of his sweaty neck and lilic eyes moving fast through the pages in his calloused hands.He was so beautiful when he was assorted,becoming king had changed his demeanor,taking the responsibilities and duties on his shoulders more seriously.

Y/n didn't understand why he decided to get to work with that heat,especially when it was Sunday morning and they could have done anything else.Also,the fact that she hasn't had his attention for almost an hour made her want to go there and tear up that paperwork in front of his beautiful eyes.And she would have done it even if she hadn't been too hot even to stand up.

Of course,it would have been great if he had gotten up to come to her instead.The two of them had been married for three years and knew each other for six,Y/n knew that Aegon would’ve done that.Seeing her,so beautifully tempting in her white transparent nightgown,long hair wild on her shoulders,full red lips and soft cheeks with sparkling needy eyes.He would’ve pounced her like a starving animal.

But that was prince Aegon,the same person that took her on Dragonstone beach,promising her that he would made her his queen,the mother of his children and that made love to her like it was their last night on earth.King Aegon was a different story,he had his head on his shoulders and his mother and grandfather on his back constantly.Ruling a whole continent was hard, tiring and took all of his attentions.

«Aaaegon.»Y/n called him,stretching the first syllable of his name,with a sweet voice.

«Mmh?»he replied with a distracted murmur,without even looking up from the table.

«Do you still have a lot of those?»she asked him,watching the pile of papers becoming smaller not fast enough.

He shook his head«I'm almost done.»

«You said that even half an hour ago!»she emitted a sound of affliction.

«I would do it faster if you got up and came to give me a hand,instead of standing there complaining.»he scolded her,not in the same teasing and playful way,but almost irritated.

Being Queen wasn’t easy and it was something that Y/n never wanted.Her mother had planned that future for her since she was a child,promising her to prince Jacaerys in the beginning and then to prince Aegon.The only thing that her mother taught her about marriage was being a good and docile wife and give her husband healthy and male heirs.No one taught her how to be a queen,not even her husband mother.

Y/n was good at being a gentle and loving wife,she supported and took care of her husband and gave him two beautiful sons,heirs to his throne.But she missed him,she knew he loved her very much and that they should have other children to strength the blood of the dragon,if only he wasn’t so busy all the time.

Not at all satisfied with the kind of reactions she was getting,Y/n pouted and reached out towards the golden cup lying on the floor:the only thing in her range that had a temperature of less than thirty-six degrees.She brought the cup to her mouth and the last residue of cold wine now vented into her throat.

When she finished,she passed the empty cup behind her neck and chest,continuing to observe Aegon out of the corner of her eye.

As much as he was trying to keep his eyes fixed on those papers,it was evident that his body was also suffering from the heat.The silver locks stuck to his sweaty forehead as his shoulders lifted and fell under the weight of long,fatigued breaths.He put the ink down for a second and sipped his wine too.

Y/n watched him arch his neck and swallow,adam’s apple moving rhythmically over the larynx.She bit her lower lip in front of the show,her hand automatically slipped below the hip line.

Fuck… “Family,duty,honor”as her House words said,looked so good on him.The ethereal aura of his royal presence,the way he carried himself and spoke in the throne room or in the Small Council,the crown on his head.Even though she missed care free prince Aegon,the King was something so divine to look at.

Seriously... they could have done anything else in the moment,she could still give him another child and show him how much of a great job he was doing as a ruler.Literally anything but staying there on the floor while he worked.

An idea caught on her mind.Suddenly the heat stopped being a problem.

«Aegon.»she called again,voice now lower.

And again,he replied without looking at her«What do you want?»

Y/n opened her mouth,then closed it.She reflected on what were the best words to use,those that would be best to persuade him.It was supposed to be something provocative,but not too much.Something sober,but impactful.

She rubbed her legs,the ache between them,and uttered candidly:«You,my King.»

She couldn't help but smile triumphantly, because at those words Aegon finally looked up from the table.His deep purple eyes stared at her,a spark of involvement and desire shining under his eyelashes as he took in all of her appearance.

It didn't last long.

«Not now.»was his calm answer,as he looked away and brought the focus back to his work.

As he spoke he wrote something with his pen and Y/n thought she wanted to bite his fingers.

«Also it's too hot for it at this hour,»he added,«better tonight,when the sun is down.»he continued.

Y/n stretched her limbs on the floor and lazily curved her back like a cat«I thought that dragons preferred the heat.»she smiled,licking her dry lips.

«Yes.But little,cute fishes like you are too sensitive for it.»the smirk in his voice made her shiver and smile even more.

He wasn’t wrong,she was still a pure maiden when they first laid together and since that time,as he showed her the immense and colorful world of pleasure,her appetite had been insatiable.Especially with a husband like him.He would take the lead and have her crying underneath or on top of him in less that five minutes.

«Hmm... I don't know if I'll be able to wait until tonight.»she purred with a vibrating throat.

Aegon scoffed,tracing the paper in his hand with a finger,rereading the same sentence for the third time«Then go on our bed,put a pillow between your legs and do it yourself.What do you want me to tell you?»he sounded exasperated.

They both were,pent up and dying by the hot weather.

«If this was a dirty talk attempt,know it was really terrible.»a laugh escaped from her.

Aegon stopped responding,bowed his chin and went back to immerse himself in the silence of concentration.

Y/n accepted the challenge.

It wasn't the first time she found herself playing with Aegon self-control since he was crowned and so far she had never lost.She had often enjoyed making him restless and starving for something else during dinners with his family:fleeting caresses under the table and winking glances between the glass bottles.

But it was easy to shake him like that when they were in public,surrounded by other eyes.The fact that they were now alone in their room,the only spectators and participants of their game,made Aegon less tense,and therefore more firm on his positions.

It would have taken a lot more to move him.

«All right...»she whispered,more to herself than to him.

Y/n stretched on her back on the floor,oriented her delicate hand vertically on her soft belly,and slid two fingers under the hem of her small cloth,trailing up her body the thin layer of her nightgown.She began to touch herself nonchalantly,lazily at the start,describing slow and interspersed circles around the clitoris.She kept her head turned to the side,ready to catch the slightest sign of distraction from Aegon.

She had to wait five long minutes before the pen slowed down on the paper.

Y/n grabbed the opportunity and began to speed up the work of her fingers.Her body was giving in to stimulation:a pleasant tingling was building up in the lower abdomen as moisture began to cover her fingertips.When a choked moan of his name formed in her throat she did nothing to repress it.

That's when Aegon raised his eyes for the second time.

His gaze on her was a mixture of surprise,opposition and embarrassment,with a small spark of lust.Y/n pointed at that.

«Y/n.»he began,with what clearly wanted to be a warning,but which did not go beyond her name.

She saw him licking his lips and swallowing.

«What?»she bent her lips into a smile«Wasn't what you told me to do it myself?»she asked sweetly.

Aegon blushed in spite of himself,he felt like a twelve years old again«Yes,but not here on the floor.»he said.

«Why?Am I distracting you?»she said with a fake tone of concern.

«What do you think?»he sarcastically said,his eyes not leaving the hand that was still moving between her legs.

The ache growing in his pants and the fire tickling his lower belly,made her proud of herself.The look he was giving her,filled with lust and irritation,told her that she was winning.

«Well,my love,as a refutation of your thesis:so far you didn't notice at all.And it's not like i started at this very moment.»she informed him with a breathy and witty response.

The blush on Aegon face reached the tip of his ears,but his gaze remained of ice«You've been... silent... so far.»he noted,trying to find a comfortable position on the chair.

«Oh?So if I keep my mouth shut I can continue without any problems?»Y/n immediately asked.

It took him a while to answer her.He stopped staring at the spot under her navel where her hand lay and took a big sip from his cup full of cold wine.The two countermeasures seemed to work.With his mind a little more lucid and the trail of freshness in his esophagus,he started talking to her with the same firmness as before.

«Absolutely not.Get up and go.»he said with the same seriousness he had adopted in the last year as a ruler.

In front of his serious face,Y/n smiled even more.He was cracking and was trying so hard to keep it together.

“As if you didn't want me here.”she though.

Y/n huffed«I don't want to.I'm too hot to move.»she said,returning to distractedly moving her fingers.

Aegon made an effort with all of himself not to look at her.He took the pen in his hand and began to turn it between his fingers to have something to engage his eyesight in.

«Your logic doesn't make any sense.»he pointed out to her.

And in fact no,it didn't have it.But in all honesty Y/n was starting to lose the thread of the argument,the need for release was becoming more pressing and Aegon had not yet moved from there.In the absence of a witty response to counter,she raised her hips and moaned his name deliberately,trying to appear as provocative as possible while doing so.

A few seconds of silence followed,then the ticking sound of the pen on the table,and finally a sigh.Y/n didn't bother to hide her immense satisfaction in finally having Aegon body bent over her.

«Can you stop?»He blew on her lips.The baritone voice with which he said it threw a burning pang between her legs.

Y/n raised her chin.The game of the challenge that made her blood tingle in her veins«Make me.»

Aegon wrinkled his forehead.He knew exactly what game his wife was playing,and he also knew he would win.He always won.He was the one in control.

«Gods,you can be so childish sometimes.»he said with a long exhale.

«And you can be serious and snoty like an old man... sometimes.»she told him with a childish attitude.

Yes,sometimes.

Aegon mind went involuntarily to the other times,where it was the exact opposite.Between him and Y/n it worked like this:they almost always ended up at the antipodes,at the two ends of the line,exchanging places with each other all the time.There was almost never a balance.And when he was there it didn't make it easier for him to define their relationship.

Sometimes Y/n was a little girl,hungry for affection and attention.An accomplice mistress who kissed and touched him when she didn't have to,who stretched out her fingers under his arm and who filled his glass when he didn't look.

Sometimes it was him,with his hands sneaking under her gowns,his lips trailing dow her neck in the empty hallways.Playing with her foot under the table.Whispering dirty thing in her ears and watch her blush in front of everyone.

Other times Y/n was an adult woman,with a deadly seriousness in her eyes and a melancholy over something lost.A kind of younger sister - or even a mother - who seemed to have lived a hundred lives,who applied patches to him even on the smallest scratches,and who stroked his hair when she realized he had cried.

Other times it was Aegon who takes the responsibility,guiding and sheltering her.Much like a king would,a husband who duties were to make her a happy wife,a old friend to keep her company and loving to read and sit together in their solarium.

When they were like this,when they took a part and left the second one for the other,Aegon remembered those few years of difference that separated them,remembered how much ambiguity there was in what they did and in the behaviors they adopted towards each other when he promised to marry her on that beach,the first time they had laid together on the cold sand when he was drunk and guided only by lust.

And an unpleasant cold ran on his back. Despite this,he had never done anything to change things.Because Y/n was still very young and was tremendously good on both sides,because - after all - condoing by that ambiguity was convenient for him... because he liked it.Because he did kept his promises and married her.

He liked to play lovers,he thought,looking for her lips.For two like them it was easier than really being king and queen.

Aegon lips were warm,but Y/n welcomed them as if they were the freshest and purest of waters.She liked it too.The lover was her favorite role.Not the wife,the mother or the queen,but his lover.

«The balcony... is open.»Aegon felt a duty to remind her of it,of all the servants that could be outside,snatching words from her increasingly insistent kisses.

She stroked his cheekbone with her tongue«Good,some fresh air.»she replied,letting him know that she didn't care.

«You are shameless.»he told her as if he didn’t taught her to be like this,but the balcony remained open and the papers abandoned on the table.

Y/n smiled as she felt his hand run down her stomach to get to surround her wrist.Her wet fingers slipped away from her throbbing sex,and her hand was carried to the height of their faces.The lack of contact caused her a bit of annoyance,but it took a back seat when Aegon put her hand close to his lips.

He began to place soft kisses on her knuckles, without stopping for a second looking at her. Slowly.Meticulously.Y/n closed her eyelids and breathed a sigh.She contemplated in awe of his lips opening,then the index and middle fingers disappear between them.Aegon moved his tongue under her phalanges,sucked them, enjoying the taste of her melting in his mouth.

«Aegon...»she called him,he groaned around her fingers in response,without interrupting his occupation.

«Take this thing off,»he continued,pointing to the skimpy nightgown she was wearing.«It's too hot.»

«You first.»Y/n whispered out and he smirked.

Receiving the message,Aegon began to unfasten his belt with his free hand,then his boots,and the first buttons on his shirt.He soon realized he couldn't do much else.Surrender,he let go of her fingers to allow both of them to undress.

Although he was now used to seeing her walking around their chambers with just one or two garments,Aegon would never stop appreciating his wife body.At that moment the sun in its apogee illuminated her nudity like white marble,skirting the curves of her profile with light.

If beauty was something describable in words,Aegon would have described it that way.

He stood to contemplate the play of light on her skin as he went back to lying down,unaware that similar thoughts were going through his wife mind.

In fact,the more Y/n looked at Aegon,the more she was convinced that there could be no such thing as graceful and aesthetically pleasing in the world.She would spend hours observing the way his moon locks cast shadows on the clear features of his face,or tracing the veins paths on the muscles of his arms.

As she thought about these things Aegon caught up with her,taking her wrists with his hands and slowly crossed them over her head.

Y/n gaze lit up,not surprised and intrigued.

She had never shown a particularly dominant personality during sex;she usually just indulged in his initiatives,following the instructions of his voice and body,doing and letting herself do whatever he decided.

Aegon was never displeased,on the contrary.In that way of behaving in intimacy he found the same confidence as when they risked their lives together: proof that she was ready to put herself in his hands in any circumstance.

That’s why seeing herself caged to the floor by his body,with his austere eyes scrutinizing her from above,made her lower belly languish in the same and delightful way.The idea of being the one who abandoned herself in his hands once again was tempting,having her king finally giving her all of his attention and devotion.

At the expense of his expression,Aegon 's grip was not very firm and the slowness in his actions betrayed a certain insecurity.It’s had been a hard week and he was tired.

Y/n caught him in a kiss to reassure him.She could still taste herself on his tongue,along with a vague aroma of cherries and wine.She was already addicted by the combination.

Aegon moved aside first,his lips ran down her jaw to the curve of her soft neck.Y/n did not oppose it,waiting for his next move with a rapid beat.She felt him adjust his grip on her wrists, then place his knee in the middle of her legs.

A soft command tickled her ear«Grind on it.»

Y/n gasped.She felt on fire,little fishes like her were too sensitive to the heat and her body's reaction was unexpectedly immediate.Her hips lifted obediently,then lowered,then went back up,until she found herself rocking against his knee at a fast pace.

Aegon kissed her neck with his mouth open, feeding on her accelerating heartbeat.He could feel her skin moistening at the point where she met his leg.

«Good girl.»he whispered in her ear,hot breath tickling her.

He bit her shoulder to suppress a moan,she arched her back and her breasts brushed his chest.His erection was throbbing in pain,but Aegon gritted his teeth.He thought of those backward papers that would force him to do the wee hours tonight,and pushed his femur forward,wishing for a little revenge.

Thanks to the previous stimulation,Y/n was already on the vege of an orgasm.She groaned restlessly,debated her hips and calves to the ground,squeezing his thighs around the bone bump.

Aegon free hand traveled along her waist and went to surround one of her tits,stroked the perky nipple with his thumb,soon replaced by his mouth.

It was hot.Y/n felt it inside and out,in every single particle of the air and in every single fiber of her body.

Sweat dripped from Aegon hair on her chest, his mouth left hot trails where he touched and his breathless breath condensed on her skin.But oh,he never wanted to stop.

Y/n moved her hips faster,craving that sweet, liquid pleasure that was heralding.

She was so close,so close...

«Stop.»the sound of the word reached her ear indistinctly,all her senses blurred,her body continuing to move tirelessly.

Just a little more...

«I said»Aegon grip on her wrists tightened,his hot palm pressing on her pulses«Stop.»with such an authority that made her even wetter.

One hand stuck her hip against the floor and Y/n stopped,stunned.Aegon bowed to one side and removed his knee,leaving fire in her lungs and her belly burning for release denied.

He looked at her,with the power of a man and curious like a child,his purple irises reduced to two thin circles around his dilated pupils.He waited in silence for her to calm down,then relaxed his fingers and released her wrists.

Y/n reached out for him,numb arms circling his neck to bring him closer.A compressed energy that still permeated it from head to toe.

«Aegon,please.»she whined,kissing his jaw and holding him.

«I know baby,you were close?»He asked her,kissing the reddened inside of her wrists with a mest expression.

She moved a lock of hair behind his ear and nodded enthusiastically«Yes.»with a cute pout on her lips.

Aegon nodded in turn,looking slightly relieved.

«I'll make you come,only if you promise that you won’t bother me and let me work for the rest of the night.»he caressed her cheeks,his thumb playing with her lower lip.

«B-but-»she tried to protest.

Aegon hand gripped her face,their noses touching«Will you do that?Will you be a good girl and do what your husband asks you?»he murmured on her lips slowly.

«Yes!I promise!»she immediately answered,trying to get him to kiss her again.

He ran his hands over her hips for a few seconds,focused,as if he was about to make an important decision.Y/n wasn’t surprised when from his mouth came another command,albeit more docile than the previous one.

«Turn around and lay on your stomach.»he ordered,before kissing her and caressing her hair.

She did as he had told her,turning around to give him her back.

The floor was warm and she was so sensitive that the mere pressure of her flattened belly against the stoned pavement was enough to snatch a moan from her.Meanwhile,a finger began to trace her spine,slowly flowing the vertebrae from the coccyx to the cervical.

Y/n curved her back under that touch,while looking for more friction under her hips.

«So desperate to get fucked on the floor?»Aegon murmured on the back of her neck,before licking the salt from her skin.

«F-fuck yes.»she whimpered out.

«Oh»Aegon said amused«I thought i married a proper lady not a slut.»his shoulders trembled with a laugh.

Y/n face was crimson red«I’m not a-a…a slut!»she answered embarrassed,but she knew he was right.

«Mmh,i should’ve know since you had let me fuck you on that beach before we were even betrothed.»he kissed and bit the skin of her back making her tremble.

He kissed her between her shoulder blades,with one arm separated her abdomen from the ground and held her to himself,hip to hip.And Y/n felt him,damp and hot,stinging her entrance.

«Please.»Y/n called for him,hands digging on the floor and wiggling her ass up to get more friction.

«Behave,or I’m leaving you here.»he spanked her,the sting of the slap and the way he caressed the redden skin of her ass made her choke on her saliva.

«With how eager you are,the castle should be filled with our children.»Aegon continued,massaging her.

«Maybe you should give me another,»Y/n breathed out,closing her eyes.

She felt him curse under his breath and holding her closer«Is that what you want?Another kid to keep yourself occupied with?»the idea of seeing her full with his child made his head spin.

The anticipation was a tongue of fire that tickled her from the inside,licking the walls of her stomach in an agonizing way.

She didn't have time to perform in the plea she had thought.Aegon grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him as he sank into her. The movement was unique and fluid,facilitated by abundant lubrication.

Her mouth opened,the air scratched her re-stuck throat.He began to move slowly,with soft and precise blows,while with his tongue he explored her mouth and swallowed her moans.

Her neck hurt from the position,but she still stretched out backwards when he brew the kiss to pay attention to her shoulder.Aegon moved his lips over the curve of her neck and marked the skin with his teeth.He bathed her with his tongue,feeling genuinely guilty.

He thought maybe he wasn't cut for a more dominant role in sex,but the moment he did,Y/n voice shouted«More!Please!»And his mind was silent.He was the one in control and yet he would give her anything she wants,even another child if that meant having her happy.

He anchored her to his body with one arm and used the other as a lever to increase the pace and intensity of the thrusts.And every time she asked to go deeper,faster, stronger,something stretched inside him,like a rubber band on the breaking point.

It was his turn to moan.To feel how warm,wet and tight her welcoming cunt was for him every time.Made by the gods for him.

The open balcony remained a distant detail,the world restricted to that fierce union of their bodies,a bubble of heat,blood and pleasure.Just like when they got married and unite House Targaryen and House Tully.

«You’re there already,baby?»he was out of breath as he felt her clench around him again.

All she did was nod and the hand he was pressing on abdomen dropped lower.One,two,three circles and the pleasure poured into her,dense and glowing like lava, poured out from that point deep that he kept hitting with his thrusts.

Above her Aegon looked at her with fascination and desire.The torso raised to admire her body contracting in irregular spasms,his head tilted to grasp fragments of her face.

«You are...so beautiful...Y/n.»he moaned.

Y/n hoisted herself on her elbows,bent her arm to reach his head,and kissed him as if he was the most precious thing in her life,because he was.He really was the love of her life.

Aegon moaned in the kiss,feeling Y/n last contractions taking him to the limit with her«You want it inside?»he asked her urgently.

«Yes.»she pleaded again.

Her approval,in a seductive tone and oblique smile,was the last straw.He poured into her,moaning and growling on her shoulder,until his muscles gave way.

They lay facing each other on the sticky floor, their limbs suffering and heated by the effort. Only when they both stopped having a shortness of breath,Aegon pulled her close to him to let her lay her head on his chest.

«We are going to have another baby.»Y/n suddenly murmured,placing a hand on her stomach.

Aegon didn't seem upset by the information.He remained silent looking at her,as if at the moment there was nothing else in the room that deserved more attention than her.And Y/n lived on moments like these,the exclusivity of his gaze on her,his needy touch on her skin, shared kisses,his worries.

«I pray for a girl.»he said then«Baeron and Rhaego are going to drive me insane.»he continued thinking about his sons and how much they were like him.

This time he wanted a baby girl that,even though she would probably look like him,taking in the Valyrian features,she would be just like her mother:sweet,gentle,a little playful.

«They just miss you.»she whispered,almost feeling guilty«Like I do.»she admitted with a sad tone.

Aegon held her closer,he felt ashamed for neglecting his wife and his own children.As soon as he become king he forgot that first he was a husband and a father.

«I’m sorry for interrupting your work-»she started to apologize.

«Don’t.»he stopped her immediately«I’m the one who’s sorry for not being around lately.»he said kissing her temple sweetly.

Y/n smiled warmly«How about we have dinner together tonight with the kids?»she asked hopefully.

He nodded,it felt like forever since he had last spent time with his little family all together«Sound perfect.»he kissed her on the lips one last time before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.

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purinfelix · 5 months

Text

by midnight ⋆⭒˚｡⋆⊹₊ ⋆

pairing: carlos sainz x reader summary: you find yourself at one of the hottest parties on campus, eager to land a kiss before New Year strikes to avoid bad luck warnings: none w/c: 2.3k

a/n: i can't believe this is my first proper carlos fic even tho he's my fav driver - also is this a uni au ?? college au ?? sort of idk ... anw hope you all enjoy this and i wish you all a happy new year !! <333

As you stood in the corner of the dimly lit room, with no company other than the half-empty glass of red wine you’d been cradling for the past hour, you were beginning to question what you were doing at this New Year’s Eve party in the first place.

Of course, your mind was quick to point to the obvious reason - you had come because your friend asked you to. Because she had burst into your dorm room about a week ago with a sparkle in her eye and an invite to a party hosted by what she referred to as ‘high profile university elites’, which you understood as ‘popular kids who were yet to realise they’d already peaked in high school’. Nonetheless, her eagerness and incessant begging had somehow convinced you to trail along with her to the party and the numerous shopping trips preceding it.

You had to admit, there was a tiny part of you that was excited about it. You enjoyed going out and the occasional dance session but after an extremely stressful university semester you weren’t sure you could handle any more chaos or drama. But it was something different, something interesting - something to look forward to in the break routine your life had become. Especially since your friend seemed very insistent on the possibility of you meeting some new “hot singles”, and whilst the dig at your uneventful love life didn’t go unnoticed you let it slip considering it wasn’t entirely untrue.

Maybe it was this possibility that had urged you to tag along with her, despite not knowing any of the hosts or people she had listed out. However, if it weren’t for her constant reassurance that she would be at your side the entire night, you probably wouldn’t be standing at the front door of whatever unlucky house had been chosen to host the event, so dressed up you felt a little silly. Your hands trembled slightly at your sides and you felt stupid at how nervous you were. But, as the door opened for you by a boy who looked like he had already had too much to drink from his crooked tie, you swallowed your nerves and reminded yourself that even if you knew no on else, you had your friend to lean on.

At least, until a mere hour had passed into the party and she was nowhere to be found. She had told you she was going to go introduce herself to some other people and that she’d be back to meet you in the corner where she had left you. And the last you saw of her she had been standing a little too close to a guy you vaguely recognised from one of your marketing lectures, and hand ultimately decided best to leave her to enjoy herself - even if that meant awkwardly taking up space, biding your time, and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Your friend had discussed at length, and much to your dismay, about how this wasn’t just any old New Year’s Eve party like one thrown at a frat house. Rather this was one organised by your university’s wealthiest, most popular, most talented students - which had been one of your biggest turn-offs from it initially. And as you leant against the corner of some vintage-looking wallpaper, you couldn’t help but observe the atmosphere that reeked of elitism, snobbery and daughter laughter. People around you chattered away without cares in the world, donning clothes that surely came from stores you weren’t wealthy enough to know of. Others danced in the centre of the dimly lit room, some moving with elegance and others waved their arms around, drunk on a mixture of whatever expensive bottles their peers had brought.

But, to your surprise, there was something - or rather someone - that managed to catch your eyes from the other side of the room. It was what seemed like the only other person not involved in some sort of conversation, dance circle, or the lips of whatever partner they had brought. And it seemed he had noticed you too by the way his deep brown eyes had locked onto yours, even in the shadowy lighting from where he sat on the cough. He was handsome, there was certainly no denying it, especially not when the eye contact and the slight quirk of his lips alone were enough to make your heart rate quicken. You took a shaky sip from your glass, watching as he ran a large hand through his dark hair that was styled in a way you could only describe as ‘princely’, the gold cufflinks on his shirt sleeve flashing as he did.

He’s way out of your league and your tax bracket, you remind yourself. But there’s something about the way this handsome stranger is looking at you that makes you feel compelled to him. Almost like he’s cast an invisible string around your waist and is slowly pulling you towards him. A grandfather clock in the corner tells you there’s less than half an hour until midnight and the strike of New Year’s, and until you can get out of here without missing too much. Half an hour to work up the courage to go up to him, talk to him, to do anything other than stand her paralysed under his intense, yet insanely attractive, gaze.

Your feet unstick themselves and go to take a step in his direction, until your friend appears suddenly around the corner, her hand already on your wrist. She’s talking to you about some people you “just have to meet”, half dragging you with her to the kitchen. But your eyes are still stuck on him, and he watches you go with an expression that’s equal parts amused and disappointed that your charged staring competition didn’t last longer.

You find yourself in a circle with three other people, forcing a smile on your face and trying your best to act as if you care while your friend introduces you to them. One’s an engineering major, the other in medicine, and the last you can’t even bother to remember, your brain busied with plans on how to get back to the lounge, and the handsome stranger. You nod incessantly as your new company drones on about final exams and papers, eager to have the conversation done with you.

“Well, seems like there’s not much time left until midnight,” one of them says, which catches your attention, and your friend laughs along.

“And you know what they say about a New Year’s kiss, hm?” she chimes in, “that failing to lock lips with anyone after the countdown will bring in a whole new year of loneliness!” She nudges your arm and you swallow the urge to make some excuse, settling on rolling your eyes with a resigned smile.

“You found the lucky guy yet?” the engineering major says, looking directly at you with a suggestive sort of look.

As if summoned by the question, you spot something out of the corner of your eye. A familiar tuft of dark hair snakes its way around the kitchen hallway - it’s him. Now that the two of you are standing you truly get a sense of how tall he is, and you can definitely see that the dark suit he’s wearing is doing his figure justice. He moves quickly, purposefully, as he pours himself another drink and is already making his way out of the kitchen. Though, not before looking back and shooting you a quick smile. The sight renders you incapable of speech and basic function, as you go to take a sip of your own drink and instead spill your glass’ remains onto your dress.

Your little circle erupts into groans and worried cries, your friend trying her best to laugh off the total fool you’ve made of yourself in front of them. Luckily though, it seems the handsome stranger didn’t stay long enough to witness your little accident, so you don’t mind too much as your friend ushers you off to one of the bathrooms, pushing past bodies that move along to the pulsing music. Your head throbs as your friend shoves you in and shuts the door behind her.

“I can’t believe you,” she sighs, grabbing handfuls of toilet paper and throwing them at you as you sit on the closed toilet seat, “that was so embarrassing, and you’ve completely ruined the dress we spent ages picking at.”

You clearly couldn’t care less as you dab at the large stain on your dress with indifference, as she paces back and forth and waves her hands around to express her frustration.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, they all seemed like assholes anyways,” you mutter. Your quip seems to calm her down as she takes a seat on the bathtub rim. She takes a moment to glance at her phone in her hand before letting out a tired sigh.

“And now there’s less than three minutes until midnight and neither of us is getting a New Year’s kiss.”

“There’s nothing keeping you in here with me, you know,” you say, a smile in your voice as you watch her expression turn hopeful.

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“I mean, I don’t really want to spend New Year’s Eve alone but I don’t want you to as well, I think I’ll manage.”

She lets out a squeal, pulling you in for a quick hug whilst being careful not to get any of the red wine you’ve spilled on your dress onto hers.

“I’ll meet you outside in half an hour,” is the last thing she says to you before turning and leaving the bathroom to rejoin the crowd that’s formed to count down the seconds until midnight. It’s almost funny that you’re alone once more, only now with a gigantic red stain and under the harsh white light of this lavishly decorated bathroom. Sitting back against the toilet, you close your eyes and try your best to enjoy this moment of peace, and ignore the fact that this may just signal another year of loneliness - as your friend mentioned. You can hear the partygoers outside getting ready, pulling out tiny confetti canons and ushering others into the lounge.

“10!”

“9!”

Suddenly, the door opens and you jerk up to scold your unwelcome intruder. That is until you notice it’s him, the handsome stranger. He looks equally surprised to see you until you realise he probably wasn’t expecting anyone to be sitting alone in the bathroom during the countdown to New Year’s. Your throat is dry but you still manage to croak out some form of a response.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, and you notice he’s almost panting. You gesture to the stain on your dress with an expression that says “duh”.

“Oh, right, well I just wanted to get away from all the chaos and loudness, you know.”

“8!” The crowd outside keeps going, and they seem to be getting louder.

“You didn’t find any lucky girl to kiss when midnight struck?” you say, trying your best to make light of how insanely awkward this interaction is. He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his feet shyly.

“Well I did, she was standing in the corner of the room all alone,” he takes a couple of steps towards you and his voice is sheepishly quiet.

“7!”

“She sounds like a loner,” you retort and he lets out a dry laugh. You’re trying to play it cool and act as if you’re not dying to just kiss him already, because you know that’d be too forward, especially for someone like you at a party like this.

“Well, I thought she was beautiful, at least until she got dragged away by her friend.”

“6!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but then I saw her later in the kitchen talking to some guys and figured she’d be more interested in them.”

“5!”

“I’m sure they were boring,” you decide to play along with his game.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I’m sure she would’ve much rather been talking to you instead of them, and hearing her friend talk about how if she didn’t kiss someone by midnight she’d have to deal with another year of being single,” this catches his attention, his eyebrow quirking up alongside a smirk spreading across his face.

“Really?”

“4!”

“Yep, until she spilled a bunch of wine on this dress she bought and ended up in the bathroom trying to clean it off.”

“3!”

”Sounds unfortunate.” He’s towering over you now, looking down at you with a softness in his eyes and a playfulness in his tone.

“Extremely.”

“2!”

You finally find the strength to stand up too, and almost immediately his hand finds its way around a strand of your hair, twirling it absent-mindedly. It moves to your cheek, then your chin, which he cups softly so that he can look into your eyes properly. You feel on fire underneath his touch. At this distance, he’s breathtaking. His eyes are almost enchanting and you feel tiny underneath their gaze, swallowing a lump nervously. He watches you intently, eyes flickering between his own and your lips - it’s clear what he’s thinking.

“1!”

The crowd outside erupts into cheers and the popping of confetti canons, but you’ve forgotten about them immediately as his lips crash into yours with a passion you realise haven’t experienced in a while. It’s not forceful though, it’s too perfect to be anything else. His hands snake around your body and support you - almost lifting you up into him, and you let him, your body turned to jelly under his touch. All the night’s eye contact, the silent messaging, the tension, has been squeezed into this single kiss and it just about knocks you off of your feet. Finally though, your lips separate, and you feel so dazed you can hardly form words.

“Carlos,” he says heavily.

“Huh?” you mumble, mind still processing.

“My name, my name is Carlos.”

“Oh, right, Happy New Year Carlos.”

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz oneshot #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #ferrari #formula one #carlos sainz fanfic #formula one fanfic #f1 #purinfelix #jet writes ★

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fafnir19 · 4 months

Text

Flying like a bird – isn't that ecological?

I looked out the window, the engine's hum vibrating through my chest. The swelling excitement of my upcoming voluntary ecological year in Brazil was tinged with a hint of guilt. Guilt for the environmental impact my flight was causing, despite the carbon offsets I had diligently purchased. As a gay man committed to supporting minorities and environmental conservation, the contradiction weighed heavily on my mind. Suddenly, the airplane lurched, and a wave of red wine splattered me, the liquid soaking through my clothes. "Oh no! I'm so sorry!" Karen, the stewardess, exclaimed, her voice laced with panic. "It's okay," I reassured her, trying to suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. As I stood up, the wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to my skin, Karen offered a solution. "I can get you a new seat in first class, and also, here's a co-pilot's uniform to change into. It's the best I can do to make up for this mess." Grateful for the offer, I changed into the oversized uniform and made my way to the first-class cabin.

The extra legroom and plush seat were a welcome relief. As I settled in, the engine's roar filled the cabin, accompanied by the rustling of flight attendants bustling around. "Due to your new seat by the emergency exit, we'll need you to watch a special safety video," Karen informed me with a warm smile. I nodded, paying close attention to the lengthy safety demonstration that followed. My brow furrowed as I noticed the dated gender roles portrayed in the video, and the co-pilot's demeaning attitude toward the stewardesses. After the video finally concluded, I made a mental note to write a complaint to the airline. Karen approached me once more, offering a sweet welcome drink. The sugary liquid offered a momentary distraction from the unsettling video. As I sipped the drink, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me, and before long, I drifted into a deep slumber. In my dream, I found myself face to face with the obnoxious co-pilot from the safety video, and a surge of frustration bubbled within me. "Hey, you!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the dream landscape. "How dare you treat women like that! You're insufferable! You can't treat women like that!" The co-pilot smirked. "Why not? They love it. Just look at them." Even in my own dream, I was plagued by his presence. My dream began to warp and twist, and I suddenly saw myself in the co-pilot's uniform, strutting through the cabin with an air of entitlement.

I awoke to the gentle touch of Karen, who smiled warmly at me. "You look great in that uniform, ready for your shift as a co-pilot?" she asked. I was astonished to find that the co-pilot's uniform now fit me perfectly, accentuating my athletic build.

I followed Karen to the cockpit, feeling elated at the unexpected turn of events. Taking my place in the cockpit, I began assisting the pilot as we navigated through the skies.

"Where's the usual co-pilot?" John asked, glancing at me with a curious expression. "I thought we could use a change," Karen replied cryptically, her eyes twinkling mischievously. I was eager to prove my capabilities in this unexpected role. The responsibility felt exhilarating, and I relished every moment of it. This was a dream come true - a chance to live out my lifelong ambition of being a pilot.

Suddenly, John excused himself to use the restroom, leaving me alone in the cockpit.

"So, Karen, what's the story behind all this?" John inquired. Karen's laughter filled the space, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, there is a special safety video and a welcome drink that alters the minds and bodies of our ordinary passengers as we have a lack of co-pilots" Karen explained, a smirk playing on her lips. "It's a compromise between the union and the marketing department," Karen explained. "They want the co-pilots to be the epitome of masculinity and to appeal to a wealthy clientele. But it's all about appearances." John's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?" "The union wants heterosexual men who can charm women in every location they land," Karen elaborated. "While the marketing department wants them to be attractive to gay passengers. They've settled on a strange blend of both." "In any case, he is a particularly sweet co-pilot," John remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Suddenly, an idea sparked within me, fueled by the of the safety video. I turned to John, my expression determined. "I need a break. There's someone in row 10 I want to upgrade." "Upgrade?" John raised an eyebrow, his expression mirroring a mix of surprise and amusement. "To the Mile High Club," I declared boldly, the words escaping my lips before I could fully process the audacity of my request. John's laughter echoed through the cockpit, the sound mingling with the steady hum of the engines. "Well, well, looks like our sweet co-pilot is ready to make his mark."

As I sauntered down the aisle, I couldn't contain my laughter at the thought of what was to come. Reaching row 10, I leaned in close to the passenger, my smooth voice sending shivers down her spine as I effortlessly charmed her. "Excuse me," I began, suppressing the upheaval of conflicting emotions. "I have a special upgrade for you." The woman's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze flitting between me and the open door to the lavatory. "An upgrade?" "To the Mile High Club," I clarified, my voice tinged with certainty. The young woman's laughter mixed with mine as she eagerly accepted my invitation, a mischievous glint in her eye. We disappeared into the lavatory, our hushed giggles mingling with the steady rhythm of the airplane as we indulged in our risqué endeavor. Moments later, I re-emerged, the satisfied grin on my face indicating the successful initiation of the newest member into the Mile High Club. Returning to the cockpit, I took my place with a buoyant energy, the satisfaction of a successful mission evident in my demeanor.

Karen and John exchanged knowing smiles, understanding the mischievous spark in my eyes. "Done with your break already? You work fast," Karen teased, unable to contain her amusement. "I had to make sure our newest member received a warm welcome," I replied with a playful wink.

The plane landed smoothly in Rio de Janeiro and I couldn't shake the surreal feeling of my dream. After I got out, Karen handed me a business card with a mischievous smile. “If you are interested, the airline is happy to offer you pilot training,” she said. With shaking hands and full of excitement, I accepted the card. I ended my voluntary ecological year before it even started and began my pilot training.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #musclegrowth #gay to straight #woke to coservative #hypnosis #mind control

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nikethestatue · 1 month

Text

Happy birthday to my bestie, my mate, my Elriel sister @tswaney17

I wouldn't have joined this fandom without her. So if anything, blame her! Jokes aside, I hope you have a marvelous year and meet your own stranger in the night. Please enjoy!

One shot

Summary: Elain Archeron is celebrating her birthday and happens to meet an enigmatic and mysterious stranger who upends her world

She smoothed her black bodysuit over her hips, though it wasn’t wrinkled and then tousled her hair, in what she hoped, was sexy, beachy curls.

Anyone else would’ve told her that she looked great—well put together, elegant, and not trying too hard. But to her self-critical eye, she saw a slew of imperfections. Hips too wide, breasts too large, stumpy fingers...She could stand here all night and critique herself, but what would be the point? It was what it was, right? Some part of her though, liked what stared back. The black bodysuit hugged her in all the right places, and paired with strappy golden heels and some delicate gold jewelry, she looked...nice. Not quite her 31 years old. Her friends always said that she was a ‘young 30’. She looked about 24. But inside, there were days when she felt 78.

Oh well. Time to go. That’s not to say that she didn’t want to back out of her solo restaurant trip about 25 times today. Internally, she’s been telling herself that she is too busy, too tired, too poor, and that staying in with a bottle of wine and pizza would be just fine. Another part of her wanted to get out. Even if she looked like a loser, dining alone. At least it was a Wednesday night—not the weekend—so she could theoretically make up a story of being on a business trip. Not that anyone’s going to ask. But she needed that security blanket for herself: “I am eating alone, because I am here on business’. Yeah, that sounded legit. She was a successful, professional woman, determined and confident, and she was on business in Chicago.

She grabbed her clutch and headed out.

It was a warm evening by Chicago standards. The middle of April could be blustery or it could be blistering. You never knew. Tonight was lovely, actually. Trees were in full bloom—white, pink, yellow, assertive red, purple, even blue—bursting in flowers of every shape and size along the streets of her neighbourhood.

Beatrice was a quint restaurant in Fulton Market. Or as ‘quaint’ as a restaurant could be in the bustling, hipster corner of the city. She only knew it because she’d come here before with her stylish, popular co-worker, Morrigan. She recalled how Mor wore a pristine baby blue bodysuit, sky-high heels, and a sparkling silver belt studded with glittery gemstones. Mor’s hair was a waterfall of golden blonde, which cascaded sensually down her back. Her skin was flawless. Her makeup was perfection, and her nails the right shade of pearl. When they were seated, all the girls in the party immediately rattled off a list of things they didn’t eat, were allergic to, and ‘avoided’. Mor announced that she was ‘celiac’ in a tone that implied that obviously she was celiac! And then proceeded to order bread. When the waiter told her that bread has gluten, Mor said that ‘she was allowed to today’.

Back then, she’d ordered something called the Straight ‘A’ Salad, not wanting to tuck into something juicy and fatty in front of everyone. It ended up being empty and unsatisfying. But she still wanted to go back there, because the other items on the menu looked good, the vibe was nice and not overwhelming, and the drinks were inventive. If nothing else, she’d get her full in alcohol.

“Follow me, Miss,” the hostess beckoned her and she scurried quickly between tables, wanting to be seated as soon as possible.

It was nice. The table was by the wall, and she could see inside the restaurant and out the window. She laid her clutch on the table and exhaled. She was here. She was in her place, in her chair.

She made it.

“Are we celebrating anything tonight, Miss?” the waiter asked, when he approached with the menu.

“Oh no,” she laughed, “I am on a business trip.”

“And do you have any allergies?”

“No!” she stated decisively. No. She is going to eat what she wanted. No faux allergies for her.

The drinks menu looked a bit intimidating. Lots of things with Mezcal and Elderflower and words like ‘smoked’ and ‘hibiscus ginger kombucha’. After discreetly googling what kombucha was, she gagged and decided on a Lemond Drop. Safe and sound.

The waiter wasn’t exactly impressed by her choice, but she didn’t care. Instead, she ordered Cheddar Popovers with bacon butter, and green chili queso for appetizers. It harkened back to her California upbringing, where things were less formal, the food less complicated, and the loneliness less acute. She suddenly and desperately missed her sisters, who lived back home. She missed the sun, tacos, trips to Sacramento and the simpler life she had back home.

Sighing, she sipped her cocktail and looked around. It was fairly bustling, couples and friends chatting animatedly, drinking their complicated drinks and laughing. But...she felt okay. Not amazing, but okay. It was peaceful.

It felt peaceful until her eyes fell on a singular, solitaire figure of a man, who sat at the bar, with a drink in front of him. The reason she even paid attention to him was because he was literally breathtakingly beautiful. So handsome, her breath stalled in her chest. Big. So goddamn big, it felt like he was sucking the air into the vortex of a black hole that he’d created just by simply...being. He sat, unmoving, in a sharply cut suit and a white shirt, unbuttoned at his neck. The other reason why she looked at him was because he was staring back at her. Big, bold, unflinching stare. Those incredible, luminescent eyes almost glared at her, and she wished she’d know what colour they were. The man’s face remained impassive, but he continued staring, even once she’s averted her eyes and squirmed in her seat. And now, all she could feel was his stare, following her every move. It was suddenly hot, and she felt her nipples pop like tiny Whack-A-Moles beneath her bodysuit. Served her right for not wearing a bra! Jesus Mary and Joseph. Well, her evening was ruined just like that. Instead of being at peace with her lemon drop and her popovers, she was not being scorched by the gaze of this absurdly handsome man, and all she wanted to do was look his way and see if he was still looking at her. While she didn’t want him to be looking at her. But she wanted to make sure that he was. Oh, god. What. The. Hell.

She was on the verge of fanning herself, before realising that she’d be looking like she was having hot flashes, and it was too early for that. Her nipples were hard as bullets and she was forced to cover her breasts with her folded arms, just to maintain some sense of decorum. As she ‘busied’ herself with her drink, she snuck a momentary glance at the man. He was still there, but no longer looking at her. Instead, he was on his phone, and a deep sense of regret and longing washed over her at once.

He was interested in her for 23 seconds.

That was it.

But she supposed that for the most handsome man in the world to take notice of her for 23 seconds was sufficient enough.

“Miss, your popovers,” the waiter stepped up to the table, placing one plate down in front of her, and then the other, “and queso. Please be careful, it’s hot.”

The food looked fine, but somehow, she no longer felt particularly hungry. She wasn’t sure if it was because the man was no longer looking at her, or because he was looking at her before. Did she want him to look at her? No. No, she didn’t. He was entirely outside her comfort zone, with his piercing gaze and his unnaturally good looks and he was definitely a player, so there was no need for all of this.

On her birthday, all she wanted was peace and quiet. She didn’t need smouldering men giving her the death stare. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on her food. The popovers were light and fluffy and crispy on the outside, and the bacon butter was to die for. Sinful, but so, so good.

She sunk into her seat, enjoying her cocktail and alternating between the popovers and then the rich, spicy queso. She was still deciding on the main course—penne with spicy vodka sauce? Slow cooked short rib?

“Miss,”

Her contemplation was interrupted by the waiter, who was holding a drink.

“From the gentleman at the bar,” he said and placed the drink in front of her.

Her mouth fell open. Whaaat...

Timidly, she allowed her eyes to travel to the bar and sure enough, there he was. Staring. A small, secret smile touched his beautiful mouth and he inclined his head just a bit. She didn’t exactly know how to act in these situations. Was she supposed to drink the drink that he sent? Invite him over? Go over there herself? Ignore him like a total douche?

Okay, first things first. She raised the pretty coupe glass to her lips and tentatively sipped the drink. Sour and smokey, with a touch of sweetness and heavy on lemon flavour, this was definitely a whiskey drink. And she didn’t like whiskey. But for some reason, she really liked this. She took another sip, a bolder one, and then glanced at the man. He was smiling, as he watched her drink, and when she swallowed, he winked at her. Approving? Enjoying watching her? Smug? Pleased? She wasn’t sure. But she...

“Ready to order, Miss?” the waiter was back, and she absently said ‘fish tacos’ which isn’t what she even wanted, but she was too scrambled to come up with a better idea. “Very good,” the waiter chirped, and before he disappeared, she said, “can you ask the gentleman who bought the drink to join me?”

Her throat was dry. Her underarms were sweaty.

WHAT was she doing??

She never did anything like this before? Inviting strange men to eat with her? Never!

“If he wants to,” she added quickly and the waiter nodded.

God, please say no. Please. Please god, let him say no. I don’t want it. I don’t.

There he was. Moving through the restaurant like the Angel of Death. Dark and tall and slim and muscular. Jesus. He was actually coming over! Oh. No. Nononononono.

And then he was standing at her table, how own drink in hand.

“I wasn’t sure if Whiskey Sour was the way to go,” he said—his deep, dark, raspy voice matching his appearance to a tee. "But it looks like I did well.”

She swallowed hard and then muttered, “Is that what it is?”

Yep, it sounded lame even to her own ears.

“Indeed,” he confirmed. “First time?”

Somehow, this made her blush. A simple question, and a correct assumption, but for some reason, it was laced with innuendo.

Their eyes finally locked.

Hazel. His eyes are a gorgeous greenish amber colour, spectacular like the rest of him.

He took a sip of his drink and slowly dragged the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, swiping the droplet and that made her even sweatier than she was before. Soon she was going to be sweating like a sumo wrestler—which of course is the most enticing look a woman could sport.

“No, I’ve had it before,” she finally managed to answer.

He smirked a knowing smile.

“Have you?”

As he was looming over her and attracting way too much attention from the females of the species, and even some males, she all but ordered him, “you can sit down!”

He smiled again, that smooth, secret smile, saying, “I thought you’d never ask”.

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just watched him in silence as he slid onto a chair across from her.

“Thanks for the drink,” feeling awfully uncomfortable, knowing she was not great at small talk, and completely out of depth with this man, she thought that this was all a pretty bad idea. What was supposed to have been a quiet and nice evening alone, was turning into...well, she wasn’t sure what it was turning into, but it was something.

“You aren’t waiting for anyone, are you?” he asked, sounding curious. “I wouldn’t need to fight a boyfriend or something...I mean, I’ll win, but,”

She huffed, and snorted a laugh.

“So confident?”

He shrugged, “pretty confident”. After a pause, he pressed, “so?”

“No,” she blushed despite her best efforts to appear cool. “I am here alone. On a business trip,” she lied smoothly, grateful for having this little nugget in her pocket.

He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, lounging comfortably. Suddenly, he said,

“Nope. Try again.”

Startled, she glowered at him, not knowing what he meant. All the while, as she squirmed in confusion, he casually drank his whiskey, watching her closely.

“What,” she brought her glass to her lips and took a generous swig of the drink, “what do you mean?”

“Only that you are not being exactly truthful,” he shrugged, and then grabbed a popover and swallowed the whole thing easily. “You aren’t here on any business trip.”

“What?!” she exclaimed with indignation. “Excuse me! How do you know? What do you mean?”

His eyes slowly slid over her bare arms, her chest, her neck, and again, she blushed like a fool, but there was no stopping her body’s reaction to this strange man.

He was...enigmatic.

“A beautiful woman like you, wearing something so elegant and understated,”

Understated? Did he mean boring?

“is not in Chicago on any business trip. So, that makes me think—if you aren’t waiting for anyone, and you are dressed up, then you must be,” he cocked his head, considering, “celebrating something? A new job? A birthday?”

Most of his words rolled right over her head, because all she heard was ‘a beautiful woman like you’. He thought that she was beautiful? He? HE thought that?

“What?” she asked dumbly.

He chuckled, amused. “You are a little naughty liar, is what I am saying,”

“You can’t call me that!”

“Then don’t lie to me.”

She bubbled her lips and finished her drink. Finished already? Shit.

He noticed it too and motioned for the waiter.

“Another drink for the lady,” he ordered. “And I’ll take another whiskey. And,” he thought for a moment and added, “bring us a bottle of champagne.” He looked at her and asked, “what are you eating?”

“I think I ordered fish tacos,” she recalled, watching him in confusion.

“Want to eat them?”

“I dunno.”

“Mind if I cancel them and order us steaks?”

“Uhh...okay?”

He did just that, telling the waiter that he’d pay for the tacos as well.

Who the hell was this guy? He flicked his fingers and just got whatever he wanted. The waiter didn’t even question him! ‘Of course, sir’ ‘Whatever you want, sit’ ‘Right away, sir’.

“So, is it your birthday?” he asked once the waiter ran to fetch the drinks. Literally, ran.

“No.”

His brows knitted together and he pursed his lips.

Something about him and his look made goose bumps rise on her skin and she shifted under the table, crossing her legs. This guy and his unbelievable dominating bossiness were both scary, but also highly sexual. She knew that she was a bit of a submissive at heart, but that was mostly because she read way too many omegaverse books. But now, she was faced with a true Alpha. When they spoke of an Alpha Male, she suddenly became aware that she was in the presence of one. He wasn’t just tall, dark and handsome—even if he was a walking cliche with all of these attributes. But it was his undeniable, almost God-given natural dominance and superiority that she found so fascinating. And yes, so appealing as well.

“It’s not your birthday?” he repeated.

“N-no,” she bleated pathetically.

He didn’t respond immediately, but only drummed his fingers on the table, and she noticed that his hands were scarred. Rather extensively. Burns, from what she could tell. Jesus. How did he get these? And both hands, too.

“Lie to me again, and I will take you over my knees and spank that perfect bottom until you beg for mercy,” he warned, his voice impassive, his face unchanged.

Her mouth dropped open and she thought that she was going to slide under the table and dissolve into a puddle.

Was she supposed to cause a scene and slap him? Was she supposed to storm out of the restaurant? How does one reacted to being threatened by a spanking by a complete stranger?

Also, he thought that her ass was ‘perfect’?

“Let’s start anew, beautiful girl,” he proposed then, while she made silent gasping noises like a dying fish.

The waiter arrived just then, and only that prevented her from fainting or screaming out loud. He popped the champagne bottle with flourish and poured both of them a measure, while also setting their cocktails down before them.

“Don’t come back until the food is ready,” the stranger warned the waiter and the man nodded and left without saying a word.

“What is your name?”

She swallowed, but remembering his warning, she decided to go with the truth this time.

“Elain.”

“Gorgeous name,” he approved. “It suits you. I am Azriel.”

“Azriel,” an exotic name for an exotic man. “Nice to meet you. I think?” she ventured and extended her hand to him.

“Pleasure is certainly all mine,” he said, squeezing her hand in his huge, warm, powerful palm, watching her with strange, almost palatable hunger. “Whether you’ll receive pleasure from me or not remains to be seen,” he decided vaguely and she bit her lip, sensing that innuendo again and not knowing how to deal with it.

The one time a guy was instantly interested in her, and he is a dangerous weirdo. Figures. Just her luck.

He raised his glass and said, “Happy birthday, Elain! I hope it’s wonderful to you.”

“Thank you. That remains to be seen, I think,” she said softly and they touched their glasses. She sucked the champagne quickly, and with a sense of foreboding and some kind of desperation. She had no idea where this was going, or what he wanted from her. But she wanted it to continue. At least for the duration of this dinner.

“What do you do?” he inquired, dipping a chip into the queso, but instead of eating it, he held it out to her. She looked around, in some kind of futile hope that someone would save her from this, but there was no one. Only this stunning, somewhat insane man, who was feeding her chips and dip.

“Come on, beautiful Elain. Open up,” he urged soft, his voice smooth and husky and so tempting.

Numb, and only driven by the sound of that sensual voice, she opened her mouth and he gently pushed the chip inside. As she pulled it between her teeth, he brushed his finger over her lower lip and then brought it to his mouth and sucked.

“More?” he whispered and then concluded, “more.”

He dipped another chip and fed it to her again.

“So?”

“I am in marketing,” she answered, knowing in advance that hers was the most uninspiring answer in history. But she was more preoccupied by the fact that she was being fed chips by a strange man in the middle of a restaurant.

“And you live in the city?” he asked further. “Please don’t even start with the whole ‘I am here on business’.”

She sighed and admitted, “Fine, I am from the suburbs. But I work in the city. What do you do?”

He didn’t seem too thrilled about her question and took his time eating the last of the popovers.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked finally.

“Yes, of course. Why not?”

“You might not like it.”

“Why wouldn’t I? What do you do? Kill people?” she joked.

He smiled at her, but the smile was less of a smile, and more just a stretch of his lips. The smile didn’t reach his eyes

“And if I am?” he wondered at last.

She frowned and then it dawned on her and she laughed, “what? You kill people?”

“Maybe.”

A shiver ran down her spine and she gawked at him in shock. Until she dissolved in a flurry of laughs.

“You had me there for a sec!” she wiggled her finger at him. “A+ for a perfect deadpan delivery! I am impressed.”

He didn’t seem to be laughing, but he added, “but they were all bad”.

She stopped laughing and nervously shifted in her seat.

“Wait. What?”

“You wanted to know what I did for a living,” he reminded her.

As she processed his words, he just sat there, watching her intently.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed at last, realisation dawning on her, “it’s a scam, right?! You are one of those guys who pretends to be an assassin, or a millionaire, or in the CIA and then I fall for it, and in two months you’ll start asking me for money and I blow all my savings on you and then never hear from you again.”

Shaking her head in disbelief she grabbed her napkin and then said, “thank you for the drink, Mr. Azriel. But I am not stupid. I appreciate the gesture—the razzle dazzle—but let’s part ways right here so that no one leaves here too traumatised.”

He listened to her impassively and in the next moment, the waiter arrived with their steaks.

She was hungry and upset, but she knew that she couldn’t stay here any longer and remain in his company. The whole thing was too bizarre and she didn’t want to get in trouble. And this man was clearly trouble. Or maybe troubled. Or both.

“Azriel, I am,”

“Sit,” he ordered, though his tone was soft. “You are safe with me. Don’t worry. But you did ask me what I did for a living,” he insisted again.

“Well, when I did ask you, I didn’t expect for you to tell me that you are some kind of a killer!” she snapped, her voice rising.

“I’d rather you didn’t yell,” he requested. “However, I wanted to tell you,”

“Why?!” she exclaimed. “Don’t killers usually try and keep their profession,” she made a quotation mark sign with her fingers, “a secret?”

“Normally, yes,” he agreed. “But, I want you to trust me and I felt that being honest is the best way to earn that trust.”

“Trust me? Why? And,”

“Because I want you,” he interrupted her and his tone was blunt, but calm.

“Wha,”

“I want you,” he repeated. “I saw you and you...well, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And now, I am obsessed with the idea of learning what you’d look like when I enter you. What sounds you’d make when you come on my tongue.”

At that, the big steak knife fell out of her trembling fingers and she wondered if she was having some kind of out of body experience. An ‘episode’? She wasn’t prone to episodes, but hell, there was a first time for everything, right?

He shrugged, and continued like this was a perfectly sane conversation they were having, “Sorry if this is a bit unorthodox,”

An understatement of the century!

“However, I am not one to mince words,”

Another understatement of the century.

“And when I want something, I go after it. And right now, I want you.”

She made a gurgling sound, but he ignored it, then cut into his steak, and chewed slowly.

“However, you don’t strike me as someone who sleeps around or who is used to the type of man I am,”

Was any woman?

“Therefore, I wanted to build a baseline of trust between us. Like I said, you have nothing to fear from me. I am simply a man, interested in a woman.”

He was anything but, but okay.

“So,” she finally found her voice which was lost somewhere in the bottom of her stomach, “telling me you are an assassin is your way of establishing a baseline of trust?”

He looked at her hand, which was clutching a butter knife, her knuckles white, and smiled faintly.

“I suppose so.”

She reached for the bottle of champagne, but her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely grasp it. Smoothly, he took the bottle and topped off her glass. This was probably the worst idea—to continue drinking—but she couldn't think of anything else.

“Why don’t you relax and eat,” he suggested. “The steak is cooked perfectly.”

“I don’t think I am hungry.”

“Nonsense. Lay down your weapon of choice, dig into your dish and relax a bit. Have fun. It's your birthday!”

He then raised his glass and mused, ‘what should we toast to?”

“Me remaining sane after this dinner,” she muttered under her breath.

He laughed.

“How about ‘to the future’? Because tomorrow with you is worth every yesterday I spent without you,” he said and she almost choked.

He couldn’t be for real.

No man talked like that. Ever.

“Listen, I know I could a little blunt, but in my line of work, I have to move quickly and I typically don’t get many second chances. And I don’t want to miss my chance with you,” he drank his champagne and watched her attempt to concentrate on her steak. “And when I said that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I am being honest. I saw you across the restaurant and you kind of blew my mind. It happens, you know,”

“No, it doesn’t,” she argued. “Only in romance novels.”

“Okay,” he shrugged, “so we have a romance novel beginning, so what?”

“It’s not real,” she insisted.

“Well, while you think on that, tell me when I can kiss you, because I’d really, really would like to kiss you right now,”

“Never!” she shrieked. “Stop talking like that!”

She desperately needed him to stop talking. Stop using that sensual, deep baritone to say deliciously sinful things to her. Because if he continued, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She kept trying to shield her breasts from him, since her nipples were achingly sharp, threatening to poke through the top of her body suit. And between her legs—disaster. She was flooded. Every glance at his strong, powerful hands made her wonder what they’d feel like between her thighs. What his soft lips would taste like if he did get that kiss from her. And every word he said just made her wetter and wetter. She feared she’d have a stain on her clothes once she got up from her seat, and the thought alone was mortifying.

“I think you should let me kiss you,” he insisted, watching her intently.

“No, I am not kissing you!”

God, this steak was good!

“How about this then,” he proposed slowly, “I scoot closer to you, and you let me play with your clit, while you eat, and then you come all over my hand. I pay the bill and we go to my place and I’ll continue making you come. Because all I want to do right now is kiss every inch of your porcelain skin, and fuck your soft, lovely mouth and watch my dick disappear between those rosy lips. And then you’ll come on my dick in your perfect pussy and ask for more, while screaming my name. And if you let me, I’ll fuck that gorgeous ass as well and will make you come from that as well. And then you’ll sleep in my arms and in the morning, we’ll go get breakfast.”

She watched him in dull astonishment, her brain failing to work properly as she attempted to process his words.

This really couldn’t be real. At all. No man, in the history of mankind, ever said words like these to a woman.

Yes, he just sat there, with her perfect face and his perfect body, and waited.

“And then you’ll go and kill some people at work?” was all she managed to say to his explicit monologue.

She’s never been fucked anywhere, let alone her ass. So yeah.

“Well, not at work. For work,” he corrected.

“Uh uh,” she sighed. “And you are okay with me knowing about that then?”

“Like I told you, I want you to trust me.”

“Uh uh,” she sighed again. Then she set her napkin aside and told him calmly,

“Azriel, it certainly has been an interesting evening. I thank you. I am not sure I’ll ever forget it, or you, but...I don’t think that I am the girl you need,”

“All me to decide that,” he argued sharply.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, before clarifying, “I suppose I choose not to be that girl for you.”

“Why?”

“I like my boring little life. It suits me. And you...you don’t suit me or my life.”

She couldn’t even believe her own assertiveness. She was rarely like this.

“It’s unfortunate,” he said sadly. “Forgive me if I offended you,”

“Astonished, more like,”

“Better than offended.”

She got up from her chair and her knees felt soft and shaky, and for the first time she understood what ‘jelly legs’ were. She had jelly legs because of him.

“Thank you for dinner. I better be going.”

“I’d like to walk you to your car,” he offered.

“I think it’s a bad idea. Besides, I am getting an Uber. I drank too much. Goodbye, Azriel.”

She rushed out of the restaurant and onto the bustling Fulton Market, where there were hundreds of people milling around. Her fingers trembling, she got her phone out of her clutch and pressed the Uber button on the verge of hysteria now. She didn’t know where she was going even, so she pressed ‘home’ even though she knew this Uber would host like $60 at least. But she needed to get away. Away from here, away from him, away from making a bad decision. Very bad, terrible decision that she was yearning to make right now.

3 minutes.

Okay, she just needed to make it for 3 minutes out here, until the car came.

She glanced at the phone frantically, over and over again, watching the little car move along the street diagram.

Suddenly, a familiar scarred hand reached over her shoulder and grabbed her phone.

“Wait! Give it back!” she demanded desperately.

Azriel smiled at her and then typed something in her phone.

“Now you have my number.”

A text chimed, and he added, “and I have yours”.

“We’ll never see each other again,” she promised.

“We’ll see,” he said simply.

Finally, Honda Civic! Blue! There she was!

She bounced on her heels impatiently, hoping he wouldn’t do anything, and yet hoping that he would at the same time.

Ugh.

“Goodbye, Azriel,” she said again.

He opened the door for her politely and before she folded herself into the car, he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“Happy birthday, beautiful. I’ll see you later.”

Azriel ‘The Shadow’ Night had two problems on his hands.

As he watched the Honda weave in and out of busy traffic, he lit a cigarette—an occasional bad habit of his—and inhaled deeply.

Nothing that he told her was a lie.

He did find her to be incredibly beautiful. And his attraction to her was instant and hit him like an avalanche. He’d never felt anything remotely like this before. He wanted her with every fiber of his being and know, innately, that their paths were crossed forever and for a reason.

The only omission in his tale was that their meeting was not accidental. And that she was the target, who was his current assignment.

Now, he needed to figure out how to murder her, while keeping her alive.

#elriel #elriel fanfic #my fanfiction #my writing #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elain #acotar fanfiction #Modern AU

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centurieslove · 14 days

Text

the dress (before) morgana/gwen, T, 2k, read on AO3

“Now, don't these look darling.”

Gwen didn't know how she'd ended up like this. It was late, the air was cooling rapidly now the harvest season had arrived, there was much to organise about the citadel yet here she was, dallying about in her mistress’s chamber as if she had nothing better to do. Gwen hid a small smile to herself whilst Morgana flitted about her room, twirling fabrics, dresses clutched to her chest, pulling out the entirety of her wardrobe.

“This one, this one,” Morgana said with glee, spinning back towards Gwen to thrust a long silken garment into her hands. “Marion, you know, from down the market - she showed me these incredible fabrics,” she gushed, eyes sparkling. “Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?”

Gwen looked down at the dress in her hands; a deep, inky red, folds of silk slipping across her fingers, the torchlight bouncing off the sheen making it seem almost alive. She held it out in front her, watching in awe as the fabric swept down to fall at her feet. “Yes,” she said in wonder. It was probably the most expensive thing she had ever held.

“Got to save it for the most perfect occasion, don't you think?”

Gwen glanced up; Morgana's pale face shone from across the room, her sharp eyebrow quirked, and Gwen smiled at her, amused. She tilted her head, studying the dress as it hung against the backdrop of Morgana’s chambers, her lady peering at her from over the neckline albeit a few metres apart. Gwen squinted her eyes to better picture it.

“What.” Morgana teased, jutting her chin down knowingly.

Gwen said nothing, and just stepped silently towards her mistress until she had fully closed the gap between them. Morgana's gaze was steady, those blue-green eyes gleaming with mischief, and Gwen flicked her eyes back down. Her hands were careful, yet assured; she took a second, admiring how the material weaved and swept and curved in long lines and then– held it up to her lady’s shoulders.

Gwen pinched the fabric gently with her fingertips, holding up the garment to properly assess its fit; she observed, transfixed, how the wine-red of the silken cloth poured over her lady, contrasting with the cream of her nightgown, and even more so with the paler skin that lay beneath. Morgana had stilled, her figure stone-like as the gorgeous tapestry laid against her. Gwen adjusted her position, pondering, then froze - her knuckles had brushed against collarbones, a tendon of a neck.

“Do you think I'll fit?” Morgana said in a whisper, her tongue curling around the words. Gwen swallowed, keeping her gaze lowered. Then– grasped the neckline of the garment in one hand and tugged the fabric down with the other, down, down towards her lady’s side, watching in silent vigil how the silk fell, gentle, across her front and then cinched in by her waist. The torchlight curved around her figure, now ruby-like and glowing, the only movement in the fabric the slow rise and fall of Morgana’s breaths, each inhale a gentle tug against Gwen’s grip on the material– she shut her eyes, feeling heat simmer under her skin.

“Yes,” she murmured. She opened her eyes again. The ruby statue still breathed in front of her, but she daren’t look it in its eyes.

“You’re certain?”

“Of course,” she replied, dazed.

“What about—” Gwen felt Morgana's hand rise up and rest on her own, “—here?” Morgana pressed down, pulling her hand onto her waist, so warm, warm and soft even under the two layers of fabric. She could feel the way Morgana's eyes were on her, but she refused to lift her gaze away from the dress; instead, Gwen stuck to the task at hand, pinning the silk firm against her lady’s waist, curving her hand round her side, tracking her eyes over the way the inky red cloth draped across her stomach, the way it rippled, curved, pulled up and up over Morgana's chest, she could hear Morgana's breaths falling faster, deeper, could feel the way her body moved under the silk— Gwen swallowed roughly, her palms damp; she held onto the dress like a lifeline, pressing it closer to Morgana’s body, feeling the strain of the fabric as her lady seemed to sway, lean into it, falling forward towards her— Gwen was frozen, gripping Morgana’s waist, their bodies close, the ruby silk the only thing between them. She felt a caress to the back of her hand, and looked up in horror to see her knuckles brushing against her lady’s neck, her chin, and that brought her gaze dangerously high; she buckled, met those blue-green eyes for a wild moment and then flung herself away.

“I–” she spluttered, the dress falling down between them, crumpling to the floor. “I-I…”

Morgana took a step towards her. “Gwen.”

“I must go.” She needed to leave. The dress was still on the floor. She should have never let it fall. Her heart pounded with the memory of how Morgana had looked at her - eyes wild and dark and slightly glazed over, just for second before she wrenched away. She needed to leave.

Morgana’s hand had reached out. “Don’t,” she pleaded. Gwen twisted her hands infront of herself, and didn’t look up again.

“I must go,” she repeated, as if a mantra could get her out the door, even though her legs were frozen in place and she couldn’t stop looking at the pile of ruby fabric, spilled like ink on the stone. It didn’t deserve that. It was so beautiful. “There is much I need to attend to.”

“I need you here.”

“My lady–”

Morgana grasped her wrist, and she finally braved looking into those eyes once again. They shone, wide and earnest, and she looked as long as she dared, long enough to watch them crinkle at the edges and she felt another deep swoop fall through her stomach. “I haven’t even shown you the best, yet,” Morgana teased, although less confident this time, as if afraid Gwen was about to run out the door.

Gwen let out a long, shaky breath, and nodded.

#its about a dress but Its Not About A Dress #this literally fell onto the page so beautifully and then i deleted it by accident. am i ever going to be satisfied with my rewrite?#who knows #merlin fic #merlin fanfic #bbc merlin #morgana x gwen #morgwen #morgana/gwen #the morgwen fic

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mistressofduskanddawn · 11 days

Text

Wines for the Daedric Princes

Azura: Light rose and sweetened whites, especially gewürztraminer, for its lovely rose scent and taste.

Boethiah: red light bodied wines that remind one of spilled blood; cabernet sauvignon and pinot noir.

Clavius Vile: wines of deeper nature and deception, a buttery chardonnay or meaty sweet port, complex blends and vintages unseen yet a deal for what they may be.

Hermaeus Mora: natural wines in which their secrets are hidden, you will never know how the wine went through its fermentation.

Hircine: natural wines, made from wild undomesticated grapes within the wilderness. The hunt for them alone is one of his pursuits.

Ithelia: obscure, indigenous wines that fathered the modern wine world yet remain locked and lost to time. Gouais blanc and other such forgotten yet vital varieties.

Jyggalag: traditional wines, bordeauxs and such, that invoke the order and tradition of old world wines.

Malacath: Table wines, those of the lower class, longstanding for their value. Wines enjoyed with food, considered weak yet have been a table of human culture for ages.

Mehrunes Dagon: Syrah and burnt wines, wines made from the regional smoke that lingers within the bottle and upon the tongue.

Mephala: Wines of controversy and disguise, such as a purple pinot noir or the market-changing jackson Chardonnay. Cold-hardy hybrid wines as well, such as Chambourcin, that seek to change the market itself.

Meridia: Bright wines, light and full of life, such as a cold region chardonnay or vigonier. Sparkling wines as well, brimming with light and air, such as prosecco,

Molag Baal: brutal, tannic wines, such as Cabernet Franc, the colour of blood and barely drinkable, begetting suffering for the drinker.

Namira: Old wines, sherries and noble rot wines, filled with age and decay.

Nocturnal: blueberry wines that invoke the night sky, full bodied reds made to invoke mystery such as petite syrah.

Peryite: noble rot wines, saturnes and such, made from the botrytis bunch rot in such a way that a wine become dried of water and therefore sweet.

Sanguine: All wines, truly, but especially those of higher ABV meant to draw in indulgence.

Sheogorath: wines of chaos. peeps wine and other such creatures.

Vaermina: Muscats and sweet wines, to lure one into a drink yet end up blacked out due to overindulgence, the slow draw into more until sleep.

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namusthetic · 3 months

Text

The French and the German literature academics

The Tiny Love Stories Series

! The pronouns are purposefully chosen like this so I used she/her pronouns for the first and they/them for the second character !

Link to the playlist here :)

Studies French Literature

Stops at her favorite Café to have a croissant and café au lait every morning

Dresses in soft colors or in summer dresses with floral patterns

Writes love poetry

Presses flowers in the pages of her favorite books

Covers her mouth when laughing

Takes pictures of sunsets and has a whole album for them

Lets them nap with their head on her lap

Refreshing like sparkling water

Listens to radio and hums to herself while getting ready in the early mornings

Likes to read at the small kitchen table while waiting for her tea to brew

Spends her afternoons looking for paintings, dresses and trinkets at the local flea market

Has a drawer only for her bows and foulards

Curses softly in French

You will always find in her tote bag: hand cream, lipstick, pencils, bookmarks and her diary

Likes to have dinner on a small table on the balcony

When it's really cold she stops to get hot chocolate on her way home

Studies German Literature

Spends their weekends book-hunting in small secondhand libraries and flea markets

Likes to sit on the windowsill breathing in the crisp morning air while drinking their coffee

Writes prose and long letters

Likes to take long walks when it's cloudy and it looks like it's about to rain

Comforting and warm like a glass of red wine

The smell of old libraries, books and ebony wood

Always kinda exhausted

Listens to classical music and collects vinyls

Likes to bake and make desserts for her

Starts endlessly pacing around their tiny apartment when they cannot find the word they are looking for

Has a fascination for the disturbingly uncanny and the morbidly decadent

Either power walking or aimlessly wandering and loitering about

Brings her breakfast in bed every weekend

You will always find in their satchel: an half-eaten chocolate bar, a fountain pen, a leather notebook, camera, headphones

How they met: at a flea market, she had stopped to look at a satin bow and they told her it would've looked beautiful on her

Favorite spot: a specific table tucked away in the far corner of the coffee shop they usually stop by

Their songs:

La Seine by Vanessa Paradis, -M-

Futile Devices by Sufjan Stevens

Baby I'm Yours by Arctic Monkeys

I Belong in Your Arms by Chairlift

My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

She's Always a Woman by Billy Joel

Ausgehen by AnnenMayKantereit

#moodboard #tiny love story series #aestethic #tag your aesthetic #types of people #tag yourself #dark academia #light academia #character aesthetics #original character

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apriltearsbringmayfears · 2 years

Note

Can I please request how the main 6 would propose to MC? And what would they do if MC started crying happy tears? Thank you!

~ M6 Proposing to MC - MC Crying Happy Tears ~

Thank you for the request!! I really appreciate it <3

Asra:

You two are visiting Asra's Gateway, the pond glittering with color

His hand is firmly holding yours, his thumb going in circles

"You know, MC...I'm really glad we're in each other's lives. Despite already being a magician, I never thought life could get any more magical until I met you "

You can tell he's nervous as he stands in front of you, going down on one knee

"Will you grant me the honor of continuing the magic with me?"

You say yes, happy tears beginning to flow

Asra stands up and cups your face, wiping a tear off your cheek

Tears are forming in his eyes, "I'm so glad I'm yours, MC"

Nadia:

Most recently, there was some new infrastructure built in Vesuvia, therefore a celebration is being held at the palace

Amongst the joyful chaos, she takes a sip of white wine, makes direct eye contact with you, and leans over, her lips brushing your ear

“My love, can we speak on the balcony please?”

It's just you, her, and the sparkling night sky

“MC...you make me a better leader and in turn Vesuvia a stronger city...”, her cheeks turn red

“There’s no one else I’d want to rule alongside, to grow old with...”, she takes both of your hands and holds them up to her chest

“Will you grow old with my love? Will you marry me?”

You say yes and begin crying

She smiles gently, pulling you to her chest

“There, there my love”, she wipes away a tear, replacing it with a gentle kiss

“We have another thing to celebrate now”

Julian:

You and Julian are traveling overseas

It's early morning, and Julian wasn't able to get much sleep

He tossed and turned all night like he was worried about something

You are both out on the deck of the ship watching the sunrise, a beautiful ombre of orange and lavender

His hand is in his pocket, fiddling with something, "This sunrise is beautiful, an amazing start to an adventure. wouldn't you agree, MC?"

Next thing you know, he's on one knee. The sunrise behind him acts like a halo over his head "Will you marry me, MC?"

You say yes, tears beginning to slip

He touches his forehead to yours, a tear rolling down his cheek as well

"I can't wait for our next adventure"

Muriel:

It's a cold day, you and Muriel are snuggled in front of a fire

Inanna begins poking her nose at Muriel, she has something in her mouth

Muriel is telling her to drop it, getting annoyed

A small black box bounces out of her mouth and onto the floor, landing in front of the fireplace

Muriel goes wide-eyed, his ears going red

He tries to say something but he can’t form the words

Inanna barks and wags her tale

Muriel takes a deep breath, grabs the box, and looks at you, happy tears already forming in your eyes

This isn’t what he planned but seeing you on the verge of happy tears sparks something in him

He eases a little, scooting closer to you, "Well...for years I thought being alone was what I was destined for...I-I'm glad you proved that wrong. Will you marry me MC? I'm sorry this isn't what I originally plann-"

You envelop him in a hug, he doesn't need to apologize

Portia:

Portia decided to take you on an all-day date

She made you breakfast, took you shopping at the local market, and visited a local garden, the last thing on the list is a picnic under the stars

You can tell she’s up to something

You two are finishing up some cookies, enjoying the view

You notice from the corner of your eye that she’s looking at you, desperately fumbling in her pocket

“MC, I’m glad we can enjoy nights like this together...though the view of you beats any star in the sky”, she pulls out a small beautifully decorated handmade box

“Will you continue to be my star for the rest of our lives? MC, will you marry me?”, there are tears forming in her eyes already

You say yes, beginning to cry as well

She tackles you in a hug, both of you on the ground

You wipe each other's tears off, laughing lightly and feathering each other with kisses

Lucio:

Lucio always dresses nice but today he is dressed nice, he spent extra time making sure his hair was perfect today

As far as you know, there isn’t any special occasion-

Until he pulls out an amazing-looking outfit, handmade that he commissioned for you

“Sweetheart! I just found out about a little celebration happening at a new restaurant that just opened. I know Nadia and Asra will be there, figured we could go check it out”, he grins

You both get there and he seats himself at the head of the table, with you seated next to him

After some chatter between you and everyone else, Lucio stands up “Thank you everyone for coming out tonight, as you know I have something special planned-”

He turns towards you, extending his hand and taking yours, “My darling MC, you have made my life infinitely better and there’s no one else in this universe better suited for me...Will you marry me?”

You begin to cry and say yes, your friends clapping in the background

At first, he’s a little worried about why you’re crying, but Nadia elbows him and whispers that they are indeed, happy tears

He pulls you near him while grabbing a wine glass in his other hand

“Now let’s celebrate, to MC and I!”

#the arcana #asra the magician #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #the arcana muriel #portiathearcana #the arcana lucio #the arcana headcanons

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weirdcrocodilelady · 1 year

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You opened your eyes to a splash of bright color on your bedside table. Roses—pink, red and rosy peach, with a few unexpected yellows tucked into the bouquet. Brushing against a petal with your finger, you found they were indeed real, not a dream, and silky soft.

"None of the bouquets at the market were quite perfect enough for you," he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice, "so I thought I'd try my hand at flower arranging." He was approaching your bed, beaming down at you, a tray full of breakfast and—if possible—more flowers in his arms.

"You forgot what day it is, didn't you?" he said. A curl of amusement lifted the corner of his lips, giving him a magnetically boyish appearance.

"No," you replied sheepishly.

"You look surprised. Taken aback. Maybe even overwhelmed." He gently set the tray of food so it bridged your blanketed legs, and then perched on the edge of the bed across from you.

"No one's ever made me breakfast in bed," you told him, "or arranged flowers for me."

"Really? Well, that's a surprise." It wasn't a surprise to him at all; you could see from the smugness of his smile that he knew your lack of romantic experience well, and that he planned to use your naïveté to elevate himself in your eyes. A knight in—well, not shining armor exactly, but a much more practical red linen.

"I've gotten chocolates before," you clarified, surprised at the defensiveness in your voice.

"I have some of those for you, as well," he said, "and a glass of wine to share with dinner. I'll cook, of course, and I have some other surprises in store. Eat your breakfast, kitten."

You ate cheerfully, feeling his eyes on you. "Do you have to watch me?" you asked between sips of warm coffee.

"You're beautiful. I can't take my eyes off of you."

"I haven't even brushed my hair," you said, bringing the mug to your lips again, hoping it would hide the sudden warmth in your cheeks.

"Here." He picked up a flower from the edge of the tray and tucked it into your hair. "You look like a painting," he said with a smile. His eyes were sparkling with admiration as he looked at you.

"You look nice too," you told him.

He laughed. "Silly girl."

"Really! I love your eyes, and your hair, and your smile, and your...your body. I love you."

"Do you, now?" He came closer to you, his smirk widening, his fingers brushing across your cheek and hair and cupping the back of your head. "Well, aren't you a little darling. Finish your breakfast, and I'll show you what I think of your body."

[I finally wrote it aasdfdafasdf, happy late Valentine's day]

#arthur harrow x reader #arthur harrow x f!reader #moon knight

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dujour13 · 1 year

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"Happy Valentine's Day, Siavash and Woljif!

I hope you and Woljif have a fun day planned ahead of yourselves, may Desna give you both a break from your duties so you can have some personal time.

This is a gift for both of you - I can only hear so many stories about your outfit without groaning. It's helped me well in my line of work, and I think you'll find it quite handy! Just stitch this rune into your armor and with a snap of your fingers you can make it look like anything you want. No matter how many times I see the reactions when my gala dress turns back into my hellknight plate, it never gets old. The potential theatrics are right up your alley, my friend.

Also, I hope the bottle of wine is to your taste. Daeran said it's a risk to send wine to someone from their homeland when you're not an expert in it, but Sosiel helped me pick out a palatable one. I think, anyway... my taste in wine has never recovered from the overly fancy swill the Egorian aristocrats prefer. This Andoren stuff is pretty alright though!

-Warmest regards, Minovae!"

My Dearest Mino,

My favorite Hellknight! (I’m sure Regill doesn’t mind if I say that.) Desna must indeed be looking over me. I was just thinking of you when Aivu ran in with this letter. It’s a little soggy and covered in cookie crumbs but a very welcome surprise.

I’m not exactly sure what you’re implying with this prestidigipainter rune, but I already have plans to put it to good use. Daeran’s throwing a costume ball and I was having second thoughts about my gender-swapped Nocticula outfit, so this will come in handy.

Many thanks for the wine! Sosiel is to be congratulated for his taste—the kind of sturdy red that stains the tablecloth, just the thing for me. I wouldn’t dream of fancy Egorian swill passing my lips as you well understand.

I also enclose a couple of gifts for you—some of the best Alvis olive oil-based scale ointment (I took the liberty of getting the kind with rainbow sparkles, not that your scales aren’t lovely already, just for a special occasion.) I hope the cookies survived the voyage. They’re for both of you of course. I never could get Regill to eat one, but maybe you’ll have better luck.

Woljif sends his regards and wants you to know that the mix-up with the young armigers and the black market love potions was Daeran’s idea, not his, and he’s willing to cut you in if you wouldn’t mind looking the other way the next time a shipment arrives.

I’m sure you and Regill had a lovely Valentine’s Day polishing each other’s armor or whatever it is you two get up to.

With all my fondest wishes 🌟

Siavash

PS Give Regill a hug for me. I know how much he loves that.

#this was SUCH a great surprise #i can't stop smiling #thank you 💕💕💕

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shalini-yadav45 · 3 months

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Discover the Best Time to Visit Brussels for an Unforgettable Experience

Brussels, the capital city of Belgium, is a vibrant metropolis known for its rich history, stunning architecture, delicious cuisine, and diverse cultural attractions. Whether you're a history enthusiast, a foodie, or a lover of art and architecture, Brussels has something to offer for everyone. One of the most common questions among travelers is, "When is the best time to visit Brussels?" In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into the various seasons and events to help you plan the perfect trip to this enchanting European destination.

Springtime Splendor: April to June

Spring is undeniably one of the best times to visit Brussels, as the city bursts into life with blooming flowers and mild temperatures. During April to June, you can witness the iconic Brussels Flower Carpet, a biennial event where the Grand Place is adorned with over 600,000 begonias, creating a stunning floral tapestry. The pleasant weather also makes it ideal for exploring Brussels' outdoor attractions, such as the Royal Greenhouses of Laeken and the picturesque parks like Parc du Cinquantenaire. Additionally, spring marks the beginning of festival season, with events like Brussels Jazz Weekend and Couleur Café Festival, offering visitors a taste of the city's vibrant cultural scene.

Summer Vibes: July to August

Summer brings warm temperatures and longer days, making it another popular time to visit Brussels. While the city may experience higher tourist crowds during this period, it's also when Brussels truly comes alive with outdoor concerts, street festivals, and open-air markets. Visitors can enjoy alfresco dining at the numerous sidewalk cafes and indulge in Belgian specialties like moules-frites (mussels with fries) and Belgian waffles. Don't miss the chance to explore Brussels' iconic landmarks, including the Grand Place, Manneken Pis, and the Atomium, which are even more captivating under the summer sun.

Autumn Delights: September to October

As the summer crowds begin to wane, autumn offers a more tranquil and romantic atmosphere in Brussels. The weather remains pleasant, with cooler temperatures and colorful foliage painting the city in hues of red, orange, and gold. September to October is the perfect time to savor the flavors of the season at Brussels' many food festivals, such as the Brussels Food Truck Festival and Eat! Brussels, Drink! Bordeaux. Art lovers will appreciate the array of exhibitions and cultural events taking place during this time, including Brussels Museums Nocturnes and Art Brussels.

Winter Wonderland: November to March

While Brussels may experience colder temperatures and occasional rainfall during the winter months, it's also a magical time to visit, especially around the festive season. The city is adorned with sparkling Christmas lights, festive markets, and ice skating rinks, creating a charming winter wonderland atmosphere. Don't miss the chance to sample traditional Belgian Christmas treats like speculoos cookies and glühwein (mulled wine) at the Brussels Christmas Market. Plus, winter is the perfect time to explore Brussels' indoor attractions, including world-class museums like the Royal Museums of Fine Arts and the Belgian Comic Strip Center.

Conclusion: Plan Your Perfect Trip to Brussels

In conclusion, Brussels is a year-round destination with something special to offer in every season. Whether you prefer the vibrant energy of spring, the sunny days of summer, the colorful foliage of autumn, or the festive charm of winter, there's never a dull moment in this dynamic city. By considering your interests and preferences, you can plan the perfect itinerary to make the most of your visit to Brussels, creating unforgettable memories that will last a lifetime.

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warpaiint · 1 year

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⌜ @misstantabismuses ⌟ ―― B a r o n e s s - C a i t l y n . & . S i l c o ❝ "Your observing skills are as astute as ever", Silco praised Caitlyn and inclined his head in a gentle nod towards the much younger Chem-Baroness, "You are right. I am here on business. Though, not this kind of business."

He vaguely locked eyes with one of Caitlyn's girls, who had peeked into the corridor to see who had just shown up. The heterochromatic eyes spooked the poor thing so much, it squeaked and dashed back into the room. Silco didn't have a strong sex drive. He never had one to the point that he was almost sex adverse. He only ever slept with a select few people and those were all ones, he had built a strong repertoire with. Ladies in a brothel were not a part of that group. Save for maybe Babette's girls.

"I am here for the other kind of business."

Silco gave a sharp nod. As soon as Caitlyn began to head to her office, the Eye of Zaun fell in line with her and wandered beside her. His large cloak with the wine-red colour made him look even more imposing than he already did. He glided beside her like a shark through the waters on a hunt. Behind them came the steps of Ran, who was escorting him tonight. The female-presenting figure stopped by the office door, hands comfortably positioned on their hips, white jacket wound tightly around their chest, almost like a corset.

In the office, Silco's hand caught up on the backrest of a beautifully carved chair, which he dragged over towards the small table before the settee. On it lay a pile of paper, a fountain pen neatly placed beside it. Mismatched eyes took note of a small wooden box with some old, rusty gold plack stamped into its lid. Stark colours of blue, purple and white contrasted against the black in scribbles of crayon lines. They were forming hearts, sparkles and stars.

"I reckon business is booming for you, is it not?", Silco said, "You have my congratulations." He pulled out a couple of Polaroid photographs from the inside of his cloak pocket. Dropping them onto the desk for the young Chem-Baroness to inspect, Silco explained: "I am suspecting that these men are not who they claim to be. They have been sneaking around on Bridgewaltz Market and were moving very weirdly. Like they were trying to figure out a perimeter. My money is on possible undercover Enforcers. However, I rather not alarm the Sherrif of this development until I actually know what is going on. I know that espionage is actually not in your field of work, but we can all agree that most people loosen their tongues during sex. I was wondering if it were possible for you to figure a bit more out about these men for me. You'd be compensated for the trouble, of course." ❞

Caitlyn smiled tipping her head toward him. "Understandable, perhaps that business is best done in my office," Caitlyn said, a soft wave of her hand as she twisted around on her heels, and led the man up toward the officer on the second floor. Blue eyes flicked over toward the girl who near squeaked and back to a room. One of her newer girls, still learning her way around The Nightingale Song. She stepped inside, moving toward her settee, and waved her hand toward the multiple seats that he could choose to his liking. "What can I do for you?" Caitlyn questioned, leaning forward to push aside any paperwork she might have had so that the table into a neat little pile so the table was his to use.

The dress she wore glistened against the neon lights that glowed through her window, having a sort of shimmer against the black and making an iridescent glow. One of her arms was fully covered in a tight sleeve with the left side only a spaghetti strap, showing off the faded black tattoo on her shoulder, silver lines of a crescent moon, and stars against her skin. Her legs crossed as she rested her arms against her knees, and nodded. "It has, thank you," Caitlyn said as she leaned forward, letting her finely manicured fingernails brush up against the pictures. Dark red lips parted just slightly, looking over the appearance of the men. "Hmm, better to keep things quiet til the truth is known, I can value the need for a clear picture," Caitlyn said, as she looked up. "A drink of aphrodisiac pomegranate juice with a pair of slim legs loosens almost any tongue if done right, I can provide the services easily to help you find out what they are up to in detail. You'll have all the information you need," Caitlyn said, as she tapped her finger against the picture.

"I can assign one of my experience birds or would you prefer I handle this myself to keep the circle small?" It's not that Caitlyn didn't trust her deadly assassins, which she often referred to as her songbirds, but she valued the need for discretion when required. And this was something she could easily handle. "Your generosity is always appreciated, Silco. You have helped my business greatly and that is something I will not forget,"

#misstantabismuses #[muse] caitlyn — interactions.#[wolf speaks] — tracker.

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burr-ell · 2 years

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25. mistletoe kiss

It was a frigid evening in Emon as Vex and Vax met outside Scanlan's house—his "mansion", as he insisted on calling it, even though it was a fairly standard-issue suburban two-story. (Though if he could pay a mortgage in this housing market, Vex thought, he might deserve to call it whatever he wanted. Not that she'd tell him that.) Vax was rubbing his parka-covered arms up and down after elbowing his car door closed and Vex had her hands firmly tucked into her peacoated sides after locking her motorcycle. Home though Emon might now be, they were southerners through and through, and no amount of elven blood was about to change that. This party had better be worth it.

They trudged silently up the driveway, taking note of the cars that were already parked. Vex spotted Keyleth's red electric sedan and Pike's white, slightly dinged SUV and a couple others she didn't recognize. A little early to tell, then.

No, she was not looking for Percy. But if she was, she knew he wasn't here yet.

They reached the doorstep, both scuffing their boots on the mat as Vex knocked. Mercifully, Scanlan answered quickly and ushered them inside.

"Thanks," Vax gasped as the twins kicked off their shoes. "It's freezing out there."

"Nothin' like booze to fix that!" Scanlan said cheerfully. "C'mon, party's this way."

He led the way downstairs to his basement, from which jaunty tunes were thumping through the floorboards (with a lot more bass than was customary for standard Winter's Crest carol fare). Vex got to the door first and was promptly halted in her tracks.

"Soooooooo," Scanlan drawled from somewhere around her hips as he sidled up to her, "whaddaya think?"

Vex stared. "Well, it's certainly...colorful."

An understatement if ever there was one. Winter's Crest baubles shone bold jewel tones in the light of strings upon strings of vivid multicolored fairy-lights. Garlands were strung about on the wall crown, but instead of the usual green, they were Scanlan's signature purple, accented with sparkling gold bows. The actual overhead lights were turned off in exchange for rotating light projectors in various colors. And if that wasn't enough, the serving bar in front of the kitchen was covered in bottles of various wines and liquors whose array of colors was reflected back on the side walls.

It was a Scanlan party, alright.

"So who all's here?" Vex asked casually as she crossed the threshold, Vax following her and making a beeline for the bar.

"Pike, Keyleth, some of my old band, and Grog and Percy are on their way." Scanlan grinned. "And I'll let you in on a little something, just because you're you—"

He pointed to the window across the room. Even in this cacophony of color, Vex could clearly make out a sprig of mistletoe.

"Got em up all over the house," Scanlan said gleefully. "I can't wait to see what happens if Grog and Vax just happen to get stuck under it."

Vex immediately followed her brother to the bar. For his own sake, she hoped he planned on some heavy drinking, and from the sounds of it, she could use a couple herself.

-+-

"Evening, Vex'ahlia."

She'd heard his footsteps, heard him greet Scanlan at the door, smelled the faint whiffs of cologne as he walked up behind her. How was she still unprepared when he greeted her? She took a quick, near-imperceptible steadying breath and turned away from an odd little painting she'd been inspecting to face him.

"Evening, Percival," she said, forcing the corners of her mouth up and hoping she looked natural instead of like she had just had a difficult medical procedure. "Busy day?" She cringed internally.

Percy shrugged. "Nothing too terrible. Victor actually let me out a little early; I fixed a faulty alternator that was giving him trouble."

"Very impressive," said Vex, and she meant it. She knew enough about cars to keep from getting swindled, but Percy's head for the inner workings was on another level.

"Thank you." His smile was cute. And handsome. And his bright blue eyes were crinkling up at the corners. Looking at his face was a mistake. "And how is Death From Above?"

Vex couldn't help laughing. It was still such a ridiculous name and barely made sense, but Percy made it work when he gave it. "Doing wonderfully, darling. As always, you're a miracle worker."

Percy grinned and preened in an endearing sort of way. "Hardly. I merely enjoy the work."

"I appreciate it all the same." She reached out to grab his arm on impulse, to rub a hand on it or hold it or whatever it was she did normally. But there was no normally with him anymore, something her slightly tipsy brain checked her on right in the middle of the motion. She pulled her hand back and swung it a little at her side, hoping against hope that she'd played it off, staring determinedly at a shiny bauble above Percy's shoulder.

"Hey, Vex, can I get your help with something?"

She could have sighed in relief at Vax's sudden appearance at her side. "Sure," she said, maybe a little too quickly. "Well, ah—see you, Percy."

Vax led them over to the bar, uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring glasses for both of them. "Just so you know, this is aerated," he drawled.

"Oh, thank the gods," said Vex with a hand over her chest. "Imagine if it was one of those regular peasant wines."

"Perish the thought," said Vax, holding up his glass and grinning. "Cheers." Vex lifted hers and clinked the glasses together, and they both took a sip. It wasn't bad.

They were quiet for a moment or two, but Vax was pressing his lips together and determinedly avoiding her eyes. Vex frowned. "What is it?"

Vax sighed, then squared his shoulders and looked her in the eye. "How long are you gonna keep torturing yourself for?"

Vex lifted her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't gimme that," he said sternly. "You've been weird around him ever since the hospital. It's like we're in third grade or something. You've got to talk to him."

"That'll be a great conversation," she said irritably. "'So Pike thinks you came out of your coma because I confessed my undying love to you! Oh, you don't feel the same, of course, I'm sure it's-not-me-it's-you—"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not," she snapped. Because why would she kid herself? Why would she set herself up for more heartbreak by hoping that maybe those smiles and soft conversations meant...

No. She's not going there. She won't.

Vax was staring at her, dumbfounded. "I'm supposed to be the stupid one, y'know," he said.

"Remember that," Vex snarked before taking another sip of wine.

"Every day," said Vax. "Don't change the subject." He sighed, put down his glass, and leaned forward on his elbows. "Look, Stubs, I'm not gonna tell you what to do; no one can. I'm just saying it's alright to go after a little happiness once in awhile."

"I am happy!"

"But you could be happier."

"It's not—" Vex huffed. "Everybody could be happier."

"And what would make you happier is being with him. Somehow," he added, and Vex rolled her eyes. He reached out to touch her wrist. "Look, he almost died. Life's about this stuff, y'know? Moments with each other. Just...don't let him slip away. You deserve to be happy, no matter what you think."

Vex sighed and took another sip of her wine, closing her eyes as if to savor it to avoid Vax's gaze. When she opened them, he was gone, already halfway across the room to chat with Grog and Pike.

Dick.

-+-

The chill is almost refreshing, Vex thought as she leaned against a post on Scanlan's porch. Then a breeze blew past, finding its way between each and every thread of her clothes to rattle her to the bone, and she shivered, shaking her head. Never mind, the cold still sucks.

But it was preferable, at least for the moment. The noise of the party, the pressure of the people...normally she liked it, but with everything on her mind at the moment it was just too much.

This shouldn't be weighing her down so much, should it? Wasn't being in love supposed to be good, even if the other person didn't feel the same way? Better to have loved and lost and all that? She should just be content with things as they were, right?

"Hi."

She sighed. It had to be him.

"Hey," she said dully, barely glancing back.

"Are you alright?" Percy walked up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. "You hate the cold."

Vex took a deep breath to steel herself. "It's just...I've had a lot on my mind lately." How exactly was she to broach this subject? "How are you? I'm sorry—I should have asked."

"No, no," said Percy quickly. "No apologies necessary." He let go of her shoulder. Vex almost shook her head, exasperated with herself for missing his touch. "I'm...alright, I suppose. As well as I can be. I've been careful to avoid the bar, at least."

"Not a bad idea at Scanlan's place."

"Certainly not."

Vex pressed her lips together. "You know I...we really care about you."

"I scarcely deserve it, most days," Percy said with a wry smile. "But you've all shown me it's true regardless."

Vex frowned at him. "You do deserve it," she insisted. "If there's one thing I've learned from everything we've all been through, it's that you have to forgive yourself. I..." She swallowed. "I want that for you. We almost lost you, and I couldn't—"

She broke off, staring determinedly at a leaf on one of Scanlan's hedges. She wasn't going to break, she couldn't break.

But then again, Percival de Rolo had been taking her masks off for a long time now without even the slightest idea he was doing it.

She dared to look up and saw Percy's eyes widening, before flicking up to something on the porch ceiling and smiling slightly. "What's—"

And then he closed the distance and kissed her.

His hands were chilly as they held her face and his lips were already slightly chapped from the cold. Her eyes were blown wide open and she could see, up close, the rather awkward view of another person's face smushed up against hers. It didn't last long, either—just a few seconds before Percy pulled away.

And, she knew as she unconsciously brought her fingers up to her lips, it was the most wonderful kiss she'd ever had.

"Mistletoe."

Vex stared up at him. "What?" Was he really—

"I—there's mistletoe, up there—" The look on Vex's face must have conveyed her thoughts, because Percy immediately threw up his hands in panicked placation. "Not that that's—it's not the only reason—I mean, it was just a pretext, I thought—I should've clarified, I—"

"Percy." Vex reached up and took his face in her hands, a smile curving her lips. "How long?"

"Ages ago," he breathed, a puff of air dissipating between them. "I just never would've believed—"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips together guiltily. "I...I heard. At the hospital. It was the only thing I heard, and I—never would have thought, otherwise—"

"Why didn't you say anything before?" She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice, to little avail.

"I just didn't think it was the right time," he said, avoiding her gaze. "And I didn't want to...embarrass you? By bringing it up? And we were all so busy, and I sort of hoped...well..." He was silent for a beat or two.

"Hoped what?" she pressed.

"I hoped...maybe...here, at the Winter's Crest party," he said, uncharacteristically bashful. "I thought the atmosphere would be—well, terribly romantic, and maybe the mistletoe would help just in case I was wrong, and—mmph!"

Vex flung her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his, delighting in his muffled yelp of surprise and even more so at how he turned his head to accommodate her, one arm around her shoulders and the other tugging her close by the waist. She pushed forward, giving her arms enough space to let one hand run through his hair, smiling in spite of herself against the kiss at his pleased little hum. Everything they'd gone through was leading up to this, this catharsis, and Vex was nothing if not a master of making anything worth her trouble.

She pulled back, grinning from ear to pointed ear at the dazed, dopey expression on his usually cool and collected face. "Mistletoe," she teased. "Can't let it go to waste, can we?"

He blinked slowly as if coming to. "Ah—no. I don't suppose we—"

"Wait a minute."

Vex glared up at the porch ceiling. Where Percy claimed hung a sprig of mistletoe was only a blank white space. "You said there was mistletoe here."

Percy frowned. "There was," he said. "I saw it, clear as day."

"Then wh—" Vex stopped short and slowly turned to one of the front windows. There was Scanlan, chatting with Gilmore, Kima, and that half-orc from his old band, and he caught her eye. He wiggled his fingers, casting an illusory mistletoe in midair and then dissolving it with a wink before turning back to his conversation.

"I should have known." Percy had come to look over her shoulder.

"I don't know whether to thank him."

"Oh, I do. I'm going to kill that bloody gnome."

2d20 kiss prompts

#perc'ahlia #percahlia #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #critical role #this iiiiis probably rushed and unnatural but idccccccc i gotta get this dooooone #otp: it's yours (my heart and my judgment)#burr writes

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