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#it was a cornered man who had tried his best and failed and was now up against the wall
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Jay Halstead: The Man Who Loves Her 
The link to the song that inspired this is here. This was healing for me to write. I hope everyone finds someone who will defend and protect them like Jay Halstead.  
Warnings: Daddy issue & alcoholism  
The bar was a hole in the wall. It was dingy but Jay had been in worse for work. Unfortunately, this unsavory stop had nothing to do with his job, and he knew he couldn’t get this bastard to bend to his will by flashing his badge. He knew he would get no satisfaction out of the encounter, more likely to be more pissed off than anything. 
He saw his target sitting at the bar in a dark corner. A beer was in his hand still chilled and two more empty next to him. Jay took a breath and then another to calm his anger.  
An attempt that failed. 
He charges over to the man with purpose and clears his throat. The man in front of him grunts. It pushes Jay’s buttons a little too well. He clears his throat again louder, and this time when he gets the same response, he slams his hand a little too roughly on the man's shoulder. It has the intended effect; the man turns to growl at Jay. “Do I know you?” 
“You would have if you had bothered to show up tonight.” The man sighs heavily and turns forward waving his hand in a clear dismissal as he takes another sip of a beer. Jay feels the anger start to bleed into fury. He let a breath out of his nose. He sits down on the stool next to the man. He grabs the bottle that's up to the other man's lips and slams it back onto the bar. Foam and beer spurts on the bar top. Eyes flash towards the disturbance. 
“Listen,” His tone is low and with a razorblade edge. “This isn't some shit that you get to wave away. She waited for you for hours. What the fuck was the point of making plans with her if you had no intention of showing up?” Your father glances down refusing to make eye contact with Jay’s icy blue gaze. “No, I was the one who pushed her to meet up with you again. The least you can do is look me in the eyes and talk to me man to man.” Jay slams his hand down the bar top when the man's stubborn gaze still refuses to meet his. His gaze shoots up at the noise. 
 More curious looks but Jay didn’t give a fuck about the scene he was causing. “You're a real piece of work, you know that.”  
“I tried my best,” Jay scoffed, his hands unconsciously turning to fists. 
“Your best? Bailing out of her when she needed you as a kid? Whirlwining in and out of her life for her early twenties? Not even being able to keep a fucking dinner that you invited her to? If that’s your best, I hate to see what you not caring looks like.”  
“It was just a bad time- a rough day- she will understand. She always does.” Jay was practically vibrating with anger.  
Your father hadn’t seen your doubt on his return. Hadn't heard you wave off the possibility of getting together. He hadn’t been there when Jay persuaded you into making those plans thinking it would be good for you- thinking it would help mend fences. He hadn’t seen the indifference turn to uncontrollable tears as the time passed in the restaurant. He didn’t know the fallout of his actions. The trust issues you had. The inability to believe that someone would stick around. He didn’t get crushed by the lack of self-confidence you had.  
Jay did. 
He was the one who had to heal the wounds that your father had left etched into your heart. The slow pace and the backtracking in your relationship. He had thought that he understood the problems you had with your dad. That he knew the pain that your dad had caused you. He now knew that you had downplayed the severity. You had clearly given him more than the benefit of the doubt. He felt like a complete asshole for pushing. His father’s death and the damage it had caused him were projected onto you instead.  
“We will try to get together again-” The beer never far from his fingertips returned to his lips to take another long pull. It was compulsory and Jay wanted to break his fingers.  
“No.” Jay growled definitely.  
“Now son,” 
“I’m not your son. And if you think for one second that I’m going to put her through this again, you're out of your damn mind. I wasn’t under the impression that you would try to fix everything, but I thought you would at least let her know that what happened wasn’t her fault.” 
“She knows that. She knows I love-”
Jay scoffs and gets up to leave. Your father doesn’t call after him or even acknowledge that he has got up to leave. Jay only takes a step before turning around. “You know I pity you. Your daughter is the most amazing person. Smart, funny, and pretty. She is sensitive but tough. A better person than I will ever be.” Jay reached into his back pocket. “I love her, and I get to go home to her tonight, and every other night of my life. But you? You’ve been damned from it, and you have no one to blame but yourself. Don’t call her again until you want to be a father.” Jay throws a twenty on the bar where it absorbs the spilled beer. “Here, the next round is on me.”  
Jay doesn’t look back as he exits the bar.    
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what,,, the fuck,,, wh,,,, the,,,, FUCK,,,, WHAT THE FUCK
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drcranessweetestdoe · 4 months
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heyyyyy
could you do a Tommy shelby fic?
in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!
hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx
Finally mine
warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness
pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader
summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18
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(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.
It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.
One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.
For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.
That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.
“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.
(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”
———-
Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.
It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.
Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.
“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.
He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.
Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”
—----
From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.
Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.
He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.
—-----
Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.
When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.
She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.
Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.
~T.S
She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.
——-
By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.
She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.
She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.
A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”
He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.
He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.
While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.
When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.
“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.
“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.
“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.
“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.
“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.
“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.
“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”
He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.
He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.
“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”
He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.
Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—
“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.
“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.
He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”
“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.
“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.
Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.
“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.
“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.
When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.
He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.
After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.
“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”
He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”
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taglist: @your-nanas-house
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ncttytrack · 4 months
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perv!bestfriend!jake who ends up fucking you one day after you catch him stealing yout panties😻
This scenario 😵‍💫
Pantie stealer! - s.j
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He let out a shaky breath from the smell. You had washed them, it’s a shame they weren't dirty.
Genre: perv!bestfriend!jake x reader
Words: 3,8k+
Warnings: Jake is a massive perv, creampie, shocking, Dom!jake, sub!reader, lowkey size kink
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
You and your best friend Jake have always been very close and your friendship started way back when you were eight years old. Your family had just moved in next door and you decided to invite Jake’s family over for dinner to welcome the new neighbors. You and Jake clicked instantly, enjoying the same tv-shows, games, movies, sports - everything, and you have been friends since then. After school you always hung out, ignoring the classmates making fun of you both and calling you a couple, they didn’t know your friendship. Jake was in your eyes only a friend - nothing more, nothing less.
But everything changed when you both hit puberty, the teenage hormones completely taking over your body. Jake clearly remembers the first day he thought you were attractive, and much more than a just friend. Yes, as kids he always thought you were cute, referring you to his other friends as the “cute girl next door”, but now it was different.
He was at the ripe age of sixteen, and just invited you over to chill out by his pool with his other friends. The sun was shining bright, and it was the middle of July, making the weather extra hot - perfect for a cooling pool day. He remembers laying down on a sunbed, watching his friends, Sunghoon and Jay, play in the pool, when you suddenly catch his eye in the corner. He watched as you slowly pulled off your t-shirt and unbuttoned your shorts, showing off a bright blue bikini with spaghetti straps.
The last time he saw your body was the year before, and he could confidently say that a lot had happened since then. His eyes scanned your body, from your much bigger boobs, down to your ass - filling out the bikini bottom you were wearing perfectly. And the straps of the bikini top were tied at the front, and only a weak tugg would let your boobs loose, exposing what he at that moment so desperately wanted to see.
“Damn, seems like your friend have grown up the last time I saw her”, said Heeseung, leaning down on his sunbed beside him - using his elbows to push himself up to get a clear view of your frame. Jake could feel the embarrassment by the warmth of his cheeks, not liking how his friend talked about you, pushing Heeseung away. “Man, shut up”.
But he was right, you had grown up. You had actually grown up a lot, and since then, it has been difficult for Jake to be around you.
As Jake was eye fucking you by the pool, trying not to make it obvious (even though everyone could see the massive bulge forming under his swimshorts), you did the same. It’s not like you were any different, noticing how Jake's soft baby stomach turned to chiseled abs over the years when watching him lay down on his sunbed. When you got eye contact, you looked away, trying to distract yourself by jumping into the pool to play with his friends.
Jake tried not to be a perv, but always failed miserably, until he couldn’t stop himself anymore. Always trying to catch glances through the door crack when you showered at his place, feeling his dick twitch when he saw the way you massaged the soap on your tits - watching the soap glide down your body to your core. Purposely dropping something to the floor, making you bend in front of him to pick it up, making it possible for him to shamelessly look at your ass in those short-shorts you always wore during the summers. Jerking off to you almost every night, trying to imagine you in cute lingerie, black ones, screaming his name for more. “Jake, Jake!”
Now you were both older, in your twenties to be exact, and you didn’t live with your parents anymore. Because you and Jakes are both broke college students, you decided to live in an apartment together, since you had been friends for such a long time and it possibly couldn’t get weird between the two of you. But, this has only been more difficult for Jake, and being around you 24/7 is slowly driving him crazy. You had become very comfortable in your new shared apartment, walking around almost naked, just wearing those cute underwear sets he had imagined all those years ago.
His perverted actions continued because of this, sneakily taking pictures of your almost naked frame to either save for later, or to send to his other friends to brag about his hot roommate walking around in only underwear. “Dude I’m so jealous, if I were you I would have already fucked the shit out of her by now”. He looked at the text Sunghoon sent him. If he could decide, then yes, you would’ve already been leaking with his cum by now. But he can’t, he can’t ruin the friendship you have shared for so long.
But you’ve made it impossible for Jake to not act out his dirty thoughts, and that is the situation Jake happens to be in now.
While laying on his bed palming himself by the thought of you, he figured that jerking off to only the thought of you was simply not enough. He needed something from you, something that could help him get off, something…like your cute panties you always wore. He could describe them to the letter, they were black, which happened to be his favorite color, lace panties with a little bow at the front. The panties hugged your figure perfectly, showing the exact right amount of ass for him to get hard. He knew what he had to do.
It was 2 am, and he quietly sneaked into your bedroom, being extra careful to not wake you up. As he walked to your drawer, he watched your sleeping figure. “Cute” You looked so peaceful, and he almost began to feel guilty for what he was about to do. But he was more horny than guilty, shamelessly opening the first drawer to immediately find your black lace panties. His hand begins to touch the fabric, rubbing it against his long fingers, and immediately his cock hardens at the feeling.
He couldn’t stop himself, hastily bringing up the fabric to his nose, smelling the detergent - letting the smell fill him up. He let out a shaky breath from the smell. You had washed them, it’s a shame they weren't dirty. Without getting caught, he sneaked out of your bedroom and entered his own over the hall.
That night was arguably the best night of his life, using your panties to jerk himself off. First he would lay them on top of his face, closing his eyes imagining you sitting on his face, before grabbing the black laced panties and wrapping it around his cock. “Fuck, y/n” The feeling of the soft lace against his hard, swollen, cock was all it took for him to shoot the fattest load of cum - making the fabric completely soaked. But that wasn’t enough for him to get off, the sight of your drenched panties making his cock hard again, so hard that it almost began to hurt.
His dick was already sore, hurting when just softly touching the tip, making Jake let out a hiss from pain. As he did before, he wrapped your panties and wrapped it around his cock, carefully jerking it up and down. It was so painful, but also felt so good, letting out moans while tears streamed down his face.
He felt so disgusting for this, imagining that it was you he fucked, and not your panties. Imagining that you were on all fours, desperately crying and screaming for him to fuck you harder, deeper, faster, until beeing compleatly filled with his cum - watching it leek out from your used up hole. He could even imagine what you would taste like, bringing up your panties to his mouth and imagine that his cum was yours, sucking and licking the fabric. Just that though, that taste, made him cum again, and once more after that, before being too tired to continue.
It was the next afternoon, around 6pm, and Jake was heading home from campus to his apartment. You didn’t have any lessons that day, and decided to stay home to do some chores before Jake gets back. Jake has been acting weird lately, maybe something was bugging him? To be a nice roommate, you wanted to do something nice for Jake, opening his bedroom door to tidy up his dirty room.
It looked like a mess, dirty clothes everywhere on the floor and his bed was far from tidy. Couldn’t he at least make his bed before he headed to college? Or did he use the argument that he was still going to sleep on it later, so why make the bed anyway?
After throwing his dirty clothes away in the laundry basket in his room, you walked up to his bed to tidy it up. As you lifted one of his pillows you were met with an astounding sight. Under his pillows were your panties, and your favorite pair too, covered in white stains. Omg…did he steal your panties? You picked them up and immediately knew what Jake had done with them.
The white stains were his cum. He had used your panties to get himself off, and probably more than once by the looks of it. The, still wet, panties were way too distracting for you to hear Jake coming home, getting surprised when he suddenly opens the door to his bedroom.
When he saw you, holding the thing he thought he hid good enough for you to not find it, he panicked. “Y/n… what are you doing?” You looked back at Jake, and then at the panties you were holding once more. You let out a chuckle “What am I doing? No, Jake, what are you doing? Are these my panties?” He gulped down the saliva that was forming in his mouth out of nervousness. Fuck, what have I done.
He never answered, just stared at you nervously. “Did you- you- jerk off using my panties”. You couldn’t help but to feel the arousal between your legs by the thought of him wrapping your lace panties around his hard pulsating cock, letting out soft groans - probably thinking about you while doing it. Subconsciously you clench your thighs together at this thought, something that Jake noticed.
The sudden smirk forming on Jake's face by the sight of your clenching thighs didn’t go unrecognized by you, immediately backing away from him when he suddenly walked closer to you. “Maybe I did, do you like that? The thought of me jerking off with your cute little panties, hm?”
You didn’t recognise the Jake you have always known in front of you, but this new, discovered, version of him sure did turn you on. His eyes were dark, hooded, and he licked his lips by the sight of your nervous figure. Still walking away from him, you felt the edge of his bed by your knees, falling down by Jake pushing you to your back. He doesn't waste a single second before towering over you, putting his leg between your knees to tease your core. The feeling sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, letting out a small whine from your mouth - but still loud enough for Jake to hear.
“You don’t know how long I've wanted this y/n, to trap you underneath me”. He leaned down to your hair, smelling it to fill him with the scent of your shampoo. “Mm, you smell sooo good baby” The action sends shivers through your spine, and hearing the pet name makes you wetter than what you even were before. You never knew how much of a pervert your life-time friend was, even getting a boner by the smell of your hair.
“J-jake, what are you doing” you say, trying to make sense of what is happening right now. Your body is already trembling by his words, and his leg is pushing harder and harder against your core. The smirk on his face grows wider when he feels the wet patch on your underwear against his leg. Thank god you were wearing a cute short skirt, without stockings even, making it so easy for him to feel you up. It’s as if you were asking for it.
“Oh, you know what I’m doing y/n, and by the looks of it it seems like you want me to continue”, Jake says while pushing his leg up even further against your pussy. Not thinking rationally anymore, you begin to grind your hips against his jeans, arching your back when the harsh fabric rubs against your clothed clit. He lets out a chuckle at the sight, he had no idea you could be this desperate.
He suddenly grabs your jaw with his hand, forcing you to look at him - still rubbing yourself against his leg. “Look at you, just begging to get fucked”, he says and pouts his lips at you, his other hand sneaking up to your waist, and up your shirt. You feel his cold hand against your warm skin under your shirt, slowly creeping up towards your boobs, only to slide down to your stomach again. He was such a tease, so close to giving you what you want, but not doing anything before you actually give him your word.
“If you want to fuck me that bad then just do it, Jake” you say, trying to sound as demanding as possible, though failing when the feeling of his hand grabbing your boob makes you let out a loud whine. The sound, mixed with the sight, makes Jake so hard it’s almost painful.
"Yeah?, Do you want me to? Want to get stuffed with Jakey's cock?” As he says this, he suddenly lifts your whole body up with his hands, and replaces his leg with the bulge in his pants. It’s then you finally can feel him. Just by the feeling alone, you know it’s big, probably already leaking with preecum ready fuck you dumb.
“You are such a pervert Jake”, you say while Jake lifts up your shirt, taking it off your body to see more of you. He licks his lips, finally seeing your boobs without a bra, and leans down to wrap his head around your nipple. The feeling of his soft tongue licking and sucking your sensitive bud, occasionally using his teeth to make it more painful, makes you let out a cry, automatically grabbing his hair. You can feel the smirk on his lips against your nipple, “Oh, yeah?”
You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer to you, completely letting this feeling of arousal take over you. “Yeah, you are, sneaking into my room, taking my panties, you are so-” he sneaks his hand under your skirt and presses it against your clit, making you unable to finish your sentence. “sooo dirty, I know, but you love it don’t you?, say the words and I will give it to you.”
You look up at the man in front of you and you can’t believe this is happening right now. This is the same Jake you have known since you were eight, the same Jake you always talked to about other boys, the same Jake you shared everything with. And now he is on top of you, making you beg for his cock. Fuck he is hot right now, looking down at you like you are nothing but his play thing. His sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead, his mouth is agape, letting out heavy breaths from the feeling of his clothes dick against the wet path forming in your underwear.
“Please, Jake”. He looks down at you with a smirk on his face before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is rough, as if you both have waited for this moment forever, and it doesn't take long before he pushes his tongue into your mouth. You let him take over you completely, letting him be incharge of what he wants to do and therefore when he pushes you tongue so deep inside your mouth you almost choke, you just take it. As he pulls away from you he grabs your neck, squeezing it. “Fuck you look so cute with my hand around your neck, baby”
While his hand is still on your neck, he uses his other to unbutton his pants and pulls them down alongside his boxers. The sight of his massive cock makes your mouth water. It’s not only massive in length but also in girth, and the tip is red and already leaking with preecum. You can’t wait anymore, pulling down your skirt to throw it on floor.
The sight of your soaked underwear is sending Jake over the edge, almost cuming in his pants by the way you are leaking. He brings his hands down to your clothes pussy, before tugging the fabric harshly upwards against your core. You let out a loud whine, desperately grinding yourself against the fabric, hiding your face behind your hands out of embarrassment. Because of this, Jake slaps the side of your thigh, making you scream out of pain. “Don’t cover your face, baby, I want to see you” You follow his demands, lifting your hands up from your face and instead grab his shoulders.
He leans down towards your panties, using his teeth to pull them down. “I’m saving these for later” He says and licks his lips, while bringing the fabric up to his nose to smell your panties in front of you. You let out a gasp “J-Jake!”, trying to grab the panties from him. “Ah-ah” Jake says, before throwing them on his night stand before you could stop him.
Before you could complain any further, he brought his cock down to your entrance, dragging the tip up and down against your pussy. He clenches his jaw trying to not push himself inside of you this instant, wanting to tease you enough first until you finally beg for him to go further.
The feeling of his hard cock grinding against your sore clit, makes your head spin, and you want more, pushing your hips up and down - grinding on his length. Jake looks down at you. You look so cute like this, his hand still around your throat, eyes completely shut from the pleasure, pleasure from the way you grind on his cock.
Tears are starting to form in your eyes when it takes too long for Jake to take it one step further. You are so close, but this is still not getting enough to reach your high. He almost laughs at your face when seeing how close you are, desperately trying to cum, but simply can’t before getting stuffed by his cock.
“J-jake, please just fuck me already!” He bites his lips, finally getting the words he always wanted. He uses his hand to push your body down, forcing you to stop grinding against his cock, before grabbing your hips with both of his hands. “You could’ve just said so, pretty”
The feeling of your warm pussy wrapping around Jake's cock, makes him throw his head back. Fuck. It felt so good, feeling you clench around him. And by the looks of it, you felt good too, letting out small moans from the way his cock stretches you out perfectly. He looks down at your stomach, and almost let out a whine from the sight of the bump. He can see his cock inside of you. One of Jake’s hands leaves your hip to come in contact with your stomach, his palm pushing down against the soft skin to feel his cock inside your stomach.
“Say my name” He says, still not moving, probably until you do as he says. You are shaking underneath him, and the only thing you want him to do is to fill you up completely. “Jake” He lets out a shaky breath from the way you say his name, string to pull out of your pussy - getting ready to fuck into you again. “Yeah, baby, one more. Can you do that for me?” He says, almost begging you at this point.
“Jake-!” you scream out his name as he slams into you, already pulling in and out of you at a fast pace. The hold on his shoulders gets stronger, trying your hardest to not collapse underneath him. The speed Jake fucks you almost rips you apart, and by the sight of your tears streaming down your face makes Jake let out a groan. “Fuck, y/n, you are mine, understand that? My own little cum slut” he says, not slowing down one bit, already starting to get closer to his release.
“Your cum slut, only yours!” the way he fucks you have turned you into a animal, and the thought of this being your best friend is long gone by now. Jake only fucks you harder after hearing your words, bringing his hand down to your clit to rub it - knowing it feels good for you. And oh it does, the feeling of his harsh fingers against your soft bud makes you scream out his name.
"J-Jake! I’m close-” you scream as Jake lifts up your legs on his shoulders, making him fuck into you even deeper. “Yeah? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock”. His words send shivers through your whole body, and you do as he says, cuming all over his cock. Him not being done with you, he still fucks into you, overstimulating you to the max before finally cuming as well.
He looks down at your pussy, and it’s completely drenched, juices still leaking out from your fucked up hole. He has to taste you. Before you could stop him, he leans down to your soaked pussy, tasting your cum mixed with his own on his taste buds. “Mm, you taste so good, baby”. He grabs your thighs, pulling you closer to his warm mouth, not letting you leave, wanting to lick up all your juices before he was done.
Before almost making you cum for the second time by his mouth, he pulls away to look at you. You had never been so beautiful, laying completely ruined on his bed and your body is wet from the sweat and the cum. Your big teary eyes look up at him, “That-that was amazing, Jake” You say, giving him a weak smile, making his dick twitch.
He leans down to kiss your forehead, patting the top of your head. “Good for you that this isn’t the last time we are doing this then.” He says before laying beside you on his bed, pulling your naked body into his.
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bittersw33t-lotus · 1 year
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Great Timing
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! Reader
Cw: minor violence, profanity, bodily harm, attempted assault, blood, whump, creepy dude
Summary: Reader gets off work late and encounters a man who follows her home with malicious intent until your neighbor comes home early from deployment.
A/N: THIS IS MY FIRST GHOST FIC DONT JUDGE ME 🔫🔫🔫
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You sighed in exhaustion as you walk out the doors of your work, instering the key into the lock securing the place, you head straight to your car. It was another nightly overtime stay at work, this has been going on for four days now but luckily your boss gave you a few days off as a token of appreciation which made you just as eager to get home and into the comfort of your bed.
Reaching your apartment complex you mind began to grow fuzzy and blurred with sleep slowly taking place. You got out of the car and began heading to the door entrance of the complex, completely unaware of the lingering figure hiding in the distance eyeing you like prey. You unlocked the complex entrance, using the key card the owner provided you with, you walk in entering the lobby, completely oblivious the figure that slipped through the door before it could close and lock, while you make your way to the elevator.
Pressing the button to the elevator, the doors soon opened as you stepped in, your eyelids so droopy that you almost missed the number ‘4’ button to your floor number. You take your your phone out and examine the screen as it turns on as the doors began to close, ‘3:26,’ you read on your Lock Screen before unlocking the device. You got out earlier than you usually did, these past few nights you wouldn’t leave work till nearly five in the morning.
A dull thud spooked you out of your thoughts, shedding the drowsiness you had felt earlier, your head snapped up at the elevator doors to see a hand between the metal opening forcing the doors to open back up revealing a man in his late 40’s. You didn’t want to assume but the man seemed to be homeless with how dirty and ragged his clothing were, he also had the stench of alcohol lingering off him. You knew some thing was wrong the minute you laid eyes on him, making eye contact you was the way he eyed you, like some piece of meat. Your stomach churned in discomfort and a need to run.
He loomed over you which made you feel even more uncomfortable. You wondered where he even came from since the lobby seemed completely empty, especially since it was 3 in the morning, until a thought occurred. Could he have snuck when you opened the door, you questioned in your mind causing you to tense up, the thought alone seemed to trigger your fight or flight response a little as the need to sleep was shoved into the back of your mind. That was the least of your worries.
You didn’t want to show your panic so you gave him a quick weary smile chucking awkwardly. “Oh, sorry I didn’t see you coming…” you muttered as you curled in on yourself, the man said nothing for the next couple of seconds and just stood there eyeing your figure up and down making you inwardly wince in disgust.
After what felt like minuets he finally moved into the elevator, you shimmied to the very back corner as he stepped in and leaned up against the back wall a little too close for your liking. You scooted over the the side wall of the elevator nearing the controls and doors, as they finally closed. You tried to ignore his staring as you turned to look at the elevators controls. “Uhh… which floor are you going to?” You look at his trying to seem calm to the best of your ability but you already knew you were failing.
He gave a quick glance at the controls before looking back at you causing you to look at his feet. “Four.” He said in a raspy voice, you hummed as you looked back to stare at the floor. The voice in the back of your head was beginning to scream louder to make a run for it but you had no idea what you could do. You’re sure everyone was asleep and definitely wouldn’t answer the door at this hour of the night, but you also couldn’t risk him finding out where exactly you lived. If you tried to make a run back to your car and he followed you’d not only make it obvious but it’d also be dangerous.
A plan came to mind, it was your best chance, “oh looks like I already pressed your floor on accident,” you laugh nervously pressing the third floor button as a way to get closer to the lobby.
He seemed displeased as he responded with a small, “oh.” The digits on the small screen above the doors showed each floor going up. You needed to take the stair cases since the elevator was no good, hopefully he isn’t ballsy enough to follow you as you get off.
The ding of the elevator chimed as you reached the third floor, you’re quick to walk off hearing the doors begin to close, sigh in relief but your breath stills as you hear another set of feet softly pad behind you. You glance over your shoulder and all senses in your body go on high alert. He’s trailing behind and smiling in a way that send a chill up your spine. The voice in your head screams so loud you can no longer ignore it, “RUN!” You wasted no time and began to dash for the stairs. The man chuckles following in pursuit.
He grasps your shirt and yanks you back giving you whiplash as you make harsh contact with the floor. You grunt as you try to get up but your arms are soon pinned and a weight is forced upon you. The man is on top of you as he laughs. “Relax honey I just wanna have fun.” He chuckles, you’re legs thrash around not being pinned causing your knee to make hard contact with his groin causing to shout in pain, his grip looses and you take the chance to kick him off you, he goes back and is flown to the wall, a loud thud coming for it. You quickly rise to your feet and run for the stairs, you contemplate for running up stairs to your floor or to the lobby but decided for the lobby. You defend down one flight before you hear the door slam open, you knew it was the man so your begin to skip a couple of steps to decedent down the stairs faster. “Come back you bitch!” He shouts out.
Relief comes once you reach the end of the stairs and see the lobby door. You swing it open not bothering to close it as you ran across to the entrance, the man quick and hot on your tail you fear you might not even make it to your car. You snag your car keys from your pocket and walk right out the door and make a b-line to your car, parked a few feet away.
The man soon come out the door and looks around to before his eyes land on you, your car not to far from you. Both of your were too focused on one thing, you both failed to notice certain tall bulking figure dress in all black with a black balaclava.
Simon had just barely arrived home, his deployment was expected to take longer but due to the his great performance along with the 141 they were able to go home a week early. He had just gotten out of his truck and heading to the back to grab his duffel bag when he was suddenly alerted by the sudden occurrence, the complexes front door swinging open by you as you ran out, you seemed to run with urgency and by the look on your face it was something bad and it seemed to have terrified you, but from what? His question was answered when the door was slammed open again and out came a man in his late 30’s or 40’s, he clearly was a homeless guy and possibly a drug addict, he stopped look around, he completely overlooked Simon, probably due to his dark clothing the the parking lot poorly lit, the guy scanned the area searching for something until his sight was set on you and wasted no time in following you in pursuit.
This set alarms off for Simon, the man was obvious chasing you with malicious intent, he quickly began to run after you two, he reached down to his upper thigh toward his handgun that was strapped to his thigh, he gripped the weapon and pulled it out of its holster. Simons mind screaming at him to get the guy and protect you before he could lay a finger on you.
You were only a couple of feet away until the man lunged and tackled you to the solid rough ground. Pain eachted though you as some areas of your bare skin scrapped against to ground, your pants ripping and exposing your skin and scaling it as well. Blood beginning to seep out from the wounds. “Get off!” You screamed out, you body pinned down, your legs pinned by his, you wrists helps down with one hand and hair violently pulled with his other hand causing you to cry out.
Before the man could speak he was suddenly jerked off you. In a flash he was on the ground, Simon pinning him to the floor. The man tried to shout until a cold metal was shoved into his mouth, which he soon found out was Simons gun. “You fucking bastard.” Was all Simon shouted before he pulled the gun away and angled the butt of the gun to the man and swung it down to his face over and over.
You had turned on back to see a hooded man in all black on top of the homeless guy and beating the shit out of him with something I his hand but you couldn’t tell with how fast he kept swinging his arm. You watched in shock hearing the homeless guy cry out begging for mercy and even apologizing which unknowingly made you smile and feel a little better. After a few good hits the hooded man stopped, which gave you the chance to look at what was in his hand, it was gun. Was this your neighbor, you wondered, you’ve seen him around once in awhile and only really greeted each other, you converse aged rarely but one time he told you his name was Ghost, which you found odd but didn’t really mind, you knew he worked in the military with him gear and uniform especially with his cargo pants that had his gun strapped to his thigh, seeming the strap you just thought of confined that this guy definitely was your neighbor.
The homeless man lied on the ground limply, groaning and slight cries of pain coming from his now bloodied face, you had a feeling his had a few facial fractures, you swore you heard a few bones cracking from him every time Ghost made contact with his face. You wiped away some tears you didn’t know you had as Ghost loomed over the guy, breathing heavily, your sniffing was what broke him from his trance as he glanced over his shoulder to look at you. He was able to get a good look at you to realize you were his neighbor too, he let out a few breathes of relief too see only a few scratches on you.
“You alright yn?” He asked, his voice deep and out of breath.
You let out a shaken breath you didn’t know you were holding as you nodded. “Thank god you were here.” You whispered staring at the homeless guy who knocked out a few second ago. Ghost really did a number on him, you thought examining his bloodied face, his nose looked broken and bent.
Simon sighed agreeing with you. “You’re lucky I just barely arrived, had I arrived later or earlier…” he pauses, the possibilities that the man could’ve done to you spooked him more than he’d like to admit.
Simon didn’t finish his sentence and opted to staying silent a long with you, you sat on the ground catching your breathes until Simon moved to place his gun back in his holster with the butt still bloodied along with his hand. He rises to his feet walking over to you and held out his gloved one. You grasp it, it felt warm even through the material of the glove, he grasps your hand softy but secured enough to help you up as he lifts you up to your feet like nothing.
He called the cops so you two waited with Simon standing by the man watching him like a hawk ready to ounce at the slightest movement. He tried his best to distract you with some conversations, when the police finally arrived, they had an ambulance to come and take the man, they got your information and asked for details of what happened, they soon wrapped everything up and took off.
“Cmon, let’s get you cleaned up.” He says leading you back inside the apartment. You completely forgot about your injuries till Ghost mentioned them. You almost told him that you could take care of yourself but ultimately decided to just let it happen. It was silence on the way up, the elevator was a little awkward but once you two finally arrived on your floor Simon finally broke the silence. “I have a first aid kit in my place if your ok with that?” You nodded the adrenaline finally subsiding and the aches and stings start coming through.
Simon noticed a slight limp in your walk, some blood soaking around your injures, and some blood still seeping on the injuries from your bottom lip and forehead. As if you could read his mind you spoke before he could voice his concern. “I’m fine I just feel a little sore is all, maybe I pulled my leg but it’s fine.” You mumbled seeing your door and Simons door in view turning into the hall.
Stopping at his door he pulls out his keys, unlocking the door to his flay you follow him in as he stands to the side allowing you to walk in before closing the door behind you. “Make your self comfortable on the couch I’ll be back with the kit. With some aspirin and water. ” He says turning on the light to reveal the living space as he walks down the hall.
You plop yourself on the couch with a sigh until a wave of pain crashed through you, a groan left your lips, you leg burned as you look down at it. You soon realized the blood beginning to seep through the fabric of your clothes leaving a tiny blotch of a deep crimson. Carefully lifting up the fabric of your pants the wound fully came into view. It was ugly, your leg was dripping a lot of blood for such a minor injury which worried you fearing you could possibly need stitches.
“You didn’t tell me you were bleeding.” Simon spoke, the sudden noise of his deep voice spooked you not even hearing his footsteps and seeing him walk over to the side of the couch.
“Jesus Simon, you’re like a damn ninja creeping around so quiet.” you mutter, rolling up the material. Simon kneeled in front of you placing the kit on the coffee table. Opening the box, he fished out a gauze pad, alcohol pads, and bandages. He took his gloves off revealing his bare hands, you watched his movements but even the feeling of his warm skin against your leg startled you.
Simon ignored your comment as he remained silent, you worried you might've soured his mood especially since he practically saved your life and brought you inside his house to take the time to attend to your wounds but you’re thoughts were cut short when he handed you the bottle of aspirin and water.
“Thanks.” You muttered taking the bottles, taking out two pills you drop them into your mouth before opening the water bottle. You take a swig before swapping the liquid and pills. Ghost prepped the stuff as you did so waiting for you to finish.
"Brace yourself," he spoken breaking the silence and your thoughts. Before you could process what was happening, Simon brought the alcohol-soaked gauze pad to your wound. you hissed in pain, the hot searing pain outnumbered out the cold wetness of the pad. your leg was kept still by Simon's hand gripping your calf to be still, you were were too busy with the pain to think much about how impressively strong his grip on your leg was.
As Simon was close to finishing up, you kept your eyes on him, you didn’t want to stare and seem rude or make Simon uncomfortable but this was the first time you really got to look at what the mask didn’t hide. You took in the little scar of his right cheek that disappeared down into the mask, the hairs on his blond eyelashes that were beautiful and long and what most entranced you were his eyes. They were a beautiful hazel, the color vary based on the different lighting. With the light shining on half of his face one eye shined like a diamond reveal a beautiful honey brown color while his other eye was dark like an abyss.
Unfortunately his eyes were to enticing that you failed to process the movement of his head turning up to you, his eyes boring right back into yours and the movement of his covered mouth, “You gonna keep gawking at me or are you gonna answer my question?” His gruff voice broke you out of your trace as realization hit your mind, you face began to burn as your mind screamed at you in embarrassment.
“Uhhh- I- I… What…. What was the question?” You muttered nervously, avoiding looking at Simon feeling shame from being caught.
“Are you okay to walk or do you need help?” He repeated still kneeling down beside you causing him to look up at you.
You didn’t wanna admit it but your legs couldn’t keep you up anymore. As nice as it would sound to have Simon help you and be up against his body, you saved him the trouble. “I’ll be fine. Thanks again Si.” You thank him before you ‘try’ to pull yourself up to your feet only to pathetically look like an elderly person due to the couch being close to the ground. Your face burned in embarrassment as you plopped back down on the couch and looked at the floor in defeat as Simon still stood there in silence just watching you. “I need help…” you muttered.
You heard Simon snort as he steps to you and sets your arm over his shoulder and slipping his hands beneath your back and knees and lifting you up bridal style. You gasped and wrapped your arms around Simon tightly. “Simon?!” You called out but he didn’t bother and began to walk towards his door.
“Welcome.” Was all he said taking his hand beneath your back to his door knob, twisting the knob and opening the door, not worried about you falling with the death grip you had on him. The trip only took a few steps until Simon reached your front door. Slowly he lowered you down as you eased your grip and stood on your feet. You could feel the cold begin to replaces Simons warmth which made you shiver. “Got your Keys?” He asked, you nod before fishing out your house keys from your pocket.
As you finally unlock the door, you began to limp your way into your home until Simon gently grasped your left arm and swing it over his shoulder lifting most of your weight off your injured leg. You were going to protest but decided against it and savor the help and warmth he provided you.
“Where to?” He asked, silence for a second until you bobbed your head towards the hallway.
“My bedroom, last door at the end of the hall.” You say, making your way towards your door you turn the knob and make your way in. Simon helps you settle onto your bed, sitting at the edge of your mattress. As soon as you got settled Simon began to make his exit muttering an awkward ‘goodnight’ until you spoke. “Simon,” you call out making him stop at your doorway. He turned around and eyes you, “Thank you, really, you saved me. I don’t know what the hell I would’ve done if you hadn’t arrived at the right time. I don’t even know what would’ve happen to me had you not been there…”
That thought seemed to haunt not only you but Simon as well. The mere thought of seeing you in a gruesome way triggered memories he wish he could burn out of his mind. He sighed and walked back up to you, setting a hand on your shoulder, he could see the thought was troubling you the most. “Me too, ‘m glad your not too beat up. And there’s no need to thank me.”
“We’ll I mean you took me to your place and took the time to help deal with this mess so, and in a way I should be thanking you.” You mumbled shifting your legs to examine the bandages.
“‘S fine, jus’ wanted to make sure you’re alright. You should get some rest though, ya look like shite.” He chuckled.
You laughed out an “ass,” before nodding. “Can’t deny that though, I’ll clean up and head to bed then. You get some rest I’m sure you need the extra sleep coming back from deployment and then having to deal with all the fiasco.”
“You sure you should do that?” He asks.
“Yeah, I’m sure, the aspirin should be kicking in here in a few, I’m sure I’ll be fine. Stop worrying and get to sleep.” You joke.
Simon nods gives you a small pat on your back before making his way out of your room. “Alright, I’ll see you around,” he says,
“Good night Simon.” You smile.
Simon grabs your doorknob and began to close the door before looking at you once more you could see his eyes slightly wrinkle, he was smiling. “Good night (y/n).”
~~~~~~~~~
Just as you suspected the aspirin finally kicked in a few minutes after Simon left. You did what you needed to do, shower and avoid getting your bandages wet. After dressing in your sleep wear, you walked to the kitchen for a drink when you noticed a paper on your table. Picking it up you examined the numbers written on there with a note below it.
‘Here’s my number If you contact me, also lock the top lock on your door. -Simon’
You smiled at the note before taking your drink, setting the cup down with the note still in hand you make your way to your front door seeing the bottom lock already locked, you lock the top one before heading back to your room.
You sit on your bed and grab your phone before putting in Simons number into your contacts.
You: Got your note. top is locked, thanks 👍🏼
It didn’t take long till you got a text back.
Simon💀: No problem, stay safe and be more aware of your surroundings love, I won’t always be around to save your arse.
You laughed trying to ignore the nickname as you finally settle into your covers.
You: Yes Sir 👍🏼
Simon💀: Good girl.
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minhosbxtch · 3 months
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Snap
Eris x reader
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This was longer than I planned but oh well :)
Also if you can spot the Aaron Warner reference you get 10 points
Lmk if I should make a part 2
Warnings: SH by fire, language, drinking?, slight spicy at the end but no smut
Mother, this entire thing was awful. You were pining after Azriel who was pining after Elain who was mated to Lucien.
Elain. You tried to like her and continued to be kind to her but she never failed to piss you off. How did someone with no personality, no fire, have not one, but two great, hard-working males wrapped around her finger.
Why would Azriel want you though? You were the one Rhys told to do all his dirty work. You were his personal hit-man.
You worked up quite the reputation, never failing a job, never getting distracted. You had worked your way into the Inner Circle by being loyal and quite the secret keeper.
But it had its perks. Like right now you were invited to the ball in the Hewn City.
Since people were still arriving you were still standing in front of Nesta who was standing in front of Cassian, to his delight.
You loved them both dearly and wished only for them to be happy, but you were jealous. You wanted what they had, or what Rhys and Feyre had. Someone who would unconditionally love you. Someone that would fight for you. Someone that would burn the world for you.
Hopefully that person being Azriel.
You and Nesta bonded over your love for the villains in stories. You would gossip for hours on your favorite romance books where the hero would fall for the villain, and then get hurt and the villain would be furious and all protective.
Well that was until she found Cassian.
Now it was all 'Sorry I can't I'm going out with Cassian.'
You were happy for them, truly. But you craved that more than anything. Something to fill your loneliness. Someone to fill your loneliness.
Your hands smoothed down the skirts of your black dress as you watched the people dance and drink.
You could see Keir out of the corner of your eye talking to a male. He was unfamiliar to you. He was one of the most beautiful males you'd seen, and that was saying something since you lived with the Bat Boys and Lucien.
Holy shit that's Eris.
You didn't recognize him at first without his long hair. But you had to admit, it brought out the sharpness of his face even more. His golden eyes seemed to pierce through Keir as he towered over the male.
Eris met your eyes and grinned, tilting his head. Clenching your jaw, you pulled your eyes away from him, looking dead ahead at nothing.
You could see him and Keir begin to approach the dais that the throne sat on. Still, you remained staring straight ahead.
You did sneak a glance as he bowed to Rhys and Feyre, which was more of incline of his head. Quickly, you changed your features into a sneer, like you were above having to bow.
But when Eris did come up from "bowing", he wasn't looking at the High Lord or High Lady. No, he was looking at you. His gaze still remained on you as Rhysand welcomed him. He steadily met your eyes, only dropping once to look at the quite revealing gown you had on.
Your blood burned through your veins as you continued to meet his gold eyes.
"Well Eris, you may have a dance with her if you wish since you are clearly so distracted," Rhys said nonchalantly, in the voice of the High Lord.
At once Eris' eyes snapped to Rhysand before saying, "Thank you my Lord," before bowing yet again before starting towards you.
If you hadn't trained yourself to show no emotion you might've turned to Rhysand and laughed.
Sorry, Rhys spoke in your mind, sounding amused.
Fucking hell, you'd have to get Feyre to try to help figure out a way to send a mental death stare. It probably wouldn't have been the best idea to send your High Lord a glare that promised hell in front of Eris, Keir, and the entire Court of Nightmares.
Eris stopped a stair below you and gave you a bow, lower that the one he gave for Rhys and Feyre, before extending his hand to you.
His eyes seemed almost unsure, but since there was an audience you took his hand and before you could move to the floor, he bowed his head and kissed your hand.
It unnerved you. Not that he kissed your hand but his eyes remained on your face the entire time. Even though he wasn't smirking, you could see the male pride in his eyes.
His hand and lips were warm, but a nice, homey kind of heat instead of the sweaty, humid type that Cassian tended to give off.
The Inner Circle's shock was almost tangible. Not just the fact that he kissed your hand but also that he stood a step below you and bowed, far lower to you the the High Lord and Lady.
You were surprised too but you didn't show it.
You. An assassin. A nobody before you worked your ass off to prove yourself to the Inner Circle.
You were still in shock when he swept you to the dance floor before the song began and bowed to you, yet again, but this time it was almost mocking. His smirking face as he bowed, eyes never leaving your face.
He carefully intertwined his fingers with yours before putting his hand on your waist, his sharp eyes never leaving your face.
It didn't make sense. All of the tales of how awful and wicked didn't seem to line up to the male that stood in front of you. The male that bowed to you twice and not once looked at you in a way that made your skin crawl or feel even slightly uncomfortable.
But hell this was nice. Especially the fact that out of everyone in the ballroom he chose you.
The only reason you could even dance was because of your elegance. But that came from being an assassin and learning how to step carefully around the puddles of blood to not get your new shoes bloody.
You looked into his molten eyes as he began to lead you through the steps of the dance. You had a similar sense of etherealness as Nesta, but you had no idea what you were doing. Still, you did not falter. When you did a complicated twirl, Eris was right there, hands warm on your waist, spinning you.
After a grand flourish he caught you as the music ended. You both were panting and your faces were very very very close together.
Too close to look accidental.
You were sure your cheeks were bright red, and not from the dance.
Eris smiled softly and gently pulled you back up, righting you and then stepping away. When no one asked to switch partners he gave you a sly, questioning look to which you nodded.
The song that started playing was much slower and involved a lot less grand flourishes than the previous ones did.
You put both hands on his shoulders as he put both hands on your waist.
Since this one was slower, the only thing you could do was talk since there was not a lot of movement.
The silence was unbearable. Damn it. Why was this so hard? Usually talking and getting information came easy.
Putting on the uncaring facade you said sneering, "Your hair looked better long." You almost groaned out loud, mentally slapping yourself for your poor conversation tactics.
To be honest his hair didn't matter. He looked beautiful either way, but the short hair gave him a cold, sharp, godly look.
He chuckled before saying, "If you liked it better then I'll grow it back out for you. But not as messy as that brute."
"Cassian is nothing even close to a brute, so watch your fucking mouth asshole," you seethed.
Eris gave you a warning look and bent down close to your face to whisper, "Language princess. Only those who cannot express themselves intelligently would resort to such crude substitutions in vocabulary."
Shit your palms definitely were sweaty. And Eris' warmth wasn't helping.
Especially the fact he called you princess.
He, clearly also picked up on your sweaty palms, asking mockingly, "Is it because I intimidate you? Am I making you nervous?"
Mother you had no idea what to say. So, you stayed quiet, glaring at the wall over his shoulder.
"Calm down love. We are all just joking around, are we not?"
"Well if you continue to 'joke around' then you won't have anything to joke around with."
He remained silent at that for a long while.
"There are no words to describe how beautiful you look tonight," he said quietly.
Your eyes widened at the change in conversation before saying the first thing that came to mind. "Are you saying I don't usually look beautiful?"
He smirked and looked you up and down as he said, "No no no. I was just saying, usually I see you in tight, assassin clothes, which those make you look seductive, but right now you look absolutely delicious," his voice dropped at the end of the sentence.
"Well you don't look to bad yourself," you said, cheeks flushed.
Well that was an understatement. He wore a orange sharp cut suit with gold accents that accentuated his muscles. And Mother, his muscles.
They were perfect. He was muscular but lean. He was perfect. Enough to forget about the dark haired, lean handsome male standing on the dais.
"Why thank you love, but I'm afraid I'm nothing in comparison to your loveliness," he said, leaning down to your ear.
Your cheeks were definitely bright red as you said, "Mother you're a shameless flirt," while trying to suppress a smile.
"Well only for you, darling," he said, smirking, "After all, it's not often I'm in the presence of an extravagant goddess."
"Well, I'm certainly not a goddess," you said smiling, your mask cracking.
He feigned a look of surprise, "That's impossible. There's no Fae, Illyrian, or mortal that even holds a candle to your beauty."
You laughed but your smile faded as Cassian approached saying, "Sorry to interrupt you both but Rhysand requires your presence," he said nodding to you.
You give Cassian a nod, before turning to Eris and curtsying mockingly, “Terribly sorry, but my High Lord requires my presence.”
Eris nodded in understanding before saying, “Of course. As long as you save me a couple dances later.”
You turned around to reply, but he was gone. Frowning you walked up towards the dais and curtseyed before asking, “How may I assist you, High Lord, High Lady?”
Rhys just motioned you to take the spot you were in earlier.
Washing your face of any emotion, you did as you were told. Standing on the same step as you did earlier, you could see a sudden flash of red hair.
You shifted slightly but it was not Eris, but Lucien who stood with Elain on his arm. Resisting the urge to smirk at Azriel, you continued to scan the crowd for Eris.
Looking for someone? An amused voice said inside your head.
No. I was seeing if there was any threats. You weren't technically lying, Eris was a son of a rival High Lord, classifying him as someone to keep an eye on.
Like the one you danced with earlier? Rhys said.
You didn't respond but turned around to make eye contact and gave him a glare that had sent men running. His eyes flashed and he shifted in his seat before giving you a warning look.
What? If I dance with him then there's no time to double cross us.
Very well. Just don't let him deceive you. Rhys relented.
You had no intention to let him deceive you. You were stupid for being caught off guard by earlier. A few pretty words and you were reduced to a defenseless, blushing maiden.
No.
You were a fucking assassin, and you let someone get in your head? No, that wouldn't happen again.
Two could play at this game.
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After winding through the crowd for several minutes, you still hadn't spotted the Eris Vanserra. All of the butterflies in your stomach had disappeared. Eris was just another of your targets.
Something else to conquer.
That was all.
People had given you a wide berth for the cold, calculated look on your face.
They knew you were hunting.
Several of them had kept their eyes on you as you prowled around the ballroom, trying to find your prey.
After a couple more minutes you gave up and started back towards the dais.
Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian were not up there. Now that you noticed it, they weren't anywhere in here.
They're probably doing business with Eris.
Yes. That would be the most reasonable solution. Still, the unnerving feeling didn't go away, if anything, it got stronger.
People. There were too many people. They crowded you, they were trapping you.
The feeling started in your stomach as an uncomfortable lump. You could feel it spreading. Speeding your heart rate up and making your limbs feel like they weighed ten-fold. The lump in your stomach starting traveled until it was sitting in your throat. Now your stomach felt empty and your throat had an uncomfortable lump in it that prevented you from breathing comfortably.
There wasn't enough air. Your body felt too hot and too cold at the same time. You felt feverish.
Your steps began to pick up speed as you rushed to the set of double doors that led to the hallway outside.
You burst through the door and gulped big breaths of air, nearly panting. The warm, sweaty feeling was left in the ballroom with all the crowds of people.
You sat on one of the benches and leaned your head back against the wall, relishing in the feel of the cool air in the drafty hallway.
Only a couple minutes later, something gave a hard tug in your chest. So forceful it was almost painful. At first, you thought you imagined it before it happened again, more urgently this time. Still, you ignored it, content to sitting on your bench.
After the second tug, you waited a few minutes outside to make sure it was over.
Smoothing your dress and hair you entered the ballroom again to see that Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian were back.
When Rhysand saw you enter he spoke in your mind saying to go join them up on the steps.
After you took your place, Rhys stood up and said in a booming voice, "Terribly sorry to say, but my Inner Circle and I have things to discuss and things to do."
No one cared. Honestly, they were probably happier to see you go just as much as you were to leave.
As one, you and the Inner Circle came together and winnowed out of Hewn City.
As the familiar streets of Velaris came into view you could hear Cassian say, "Mother I need a drink. Who's coming with me?"
Mor snorted before saying, "I already wasn't sober when we got there but I need more after that," she turned to you before asking, "You wanna go to?"
You shook your head before saying quietly, "I don't need a drink, I need some fucking sleep."
Usually you would since Azriel usually went but now you needed to sort through your own mess.
"Of course you do. You were with Eris," she said, looking at you with sympathy.
For some reason that made you angry. Saying nothing you clenched your jaw at her words.
Feyre, Mother bless her, saved you from your anger by saying with a smile, "Here I'm going to go back too. You go enjoy your fun."
Feyre was truly a gift from the Mother.
Only you and Feyre weren't going to Rita's. They all would get brain dead drunk, and poor Azriel had to go be responsible and get them home.
"So... What was going on with you and Eris. I thought you were going to launch yourself at Mor earlier," the High Lady said softly.
Instead of replying, you just took your mental walls down and showed her everything. You knew she was able to sense every feeling you had and at this point you didn't care. It was some much easier than explaining to her.
She remained silent beside you, processing what happened. "Well I think he actually likes you," she started. "Really! When he danced with Nesta he didn't genuinely compliment her like that. Much less bow and kiss her hand," she said at your skeptical look.
"And there's also the fact that he stood on a lower stair then you and then bowed to you. I know you know this, your just ignoring it," Feyre said, calling you out.
"Yeah I'm ignoring it. All of you hate him and there's no point in trying to pursue anything anyways," you said, rolling your eyes.
"And did something happen?" You asked.
"What do you mean?"
You tried to find the words but gave up, showing her instead when felt the tugs.
"I don't know what that means," Feyre said cautiously, "Here we'll talk more about this tomorrow."
She was hiding something. You'd corner her tomorrow about it when you were less tired and less emotional.
After exchanging your goodnights, you started for your room. It used to be an empty guest room until Rhys had given it to you and told you to decorate it however you want.
At first the room had been so dreary. Everything was black. Black shelves, sheets, blankets, paint, doors. When you started spending more time in your room, you began to redecorate it where it was almost unrecognizable.
The walls were painted the lightest green and the shelves, desks, nightstands, dresser, and bedframe had been painted dark brown, almost black. All over the room there were plants. No flowers, just green ferns, succulents, and cacti. There was swirls of ivy that went along the shelves, headboard and ceiling.
You had replaced the chandelier with one that was almost like crystal leaves. The couches were dark wood with sage green cushions and orange pillows. Your bed pallet was similar as the couches. All of the books you had collected had been neatly organized along the shelves and anywhere you had space.
Several Solstices ago, Feyre had gotten you lights that you could hang along the walls change color. They were always set to a nice medium orange that reflected perfectly against the rest of the room.
The place was entirely unrecognizable.
Unfortunately, no one had been in your room to notice.
You splashed the makeup off your face, unglamoured your skin, and took your dress off, sighing in relief from the tight grip. Getting into sleep clothes you immediately collapsed into bed and sleep took you away.
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You were dreaming.
All you saw was blood. And someone was screaming. Loud, gut-wrenching screams of pure undiluted terror.
You were holding a silver sword, but your hands... they weren't yours. They were much larger and veiner, and honestly, quite hot.
You felt like you and whoever this was were only one person, that you shared all thoughts, feelings, and emotions.
You were one and the same.
Banishing that thought from your mind, you watched as the person approached a man sitting in a chair who was watching as a slender, auburn haired women was being held down and backhanded over and over.
The anger that coursed through you was red hot flames as you raised the sword over the man's head and swung.
Beron's head rolled on the ground, his crown rolling to a stop at your feet. The guards stopped and looked over.
Immediately they let the lady go, but you could only watch through a red haze as the sword came down and down again on each guard.
Dropping the sword the person sank to their knees next to the women.
She quickly scooted back as your skin became itching, burning, like an army of ants was crawling under your skin.
In a sudden, harsh wave of agony, your vision went black yet again.
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You woke up violently to Cassian pounding your door saying that he was the one who drank all night and was still up before you.
Rolling your eyes you shut the door in his face. Judging by his yelling, he didn't like your attitude.
Well too bad. You felt like absolute shit. Similar to how you felt last night, the feverish, itchy sensation was back, and much stronger.
You needed to tell Feyre about what you saw, who you saw.
As you got dressed, the dream started fading quickly until you only remembered important parts, like the hot hands.
Less than 10 minutes later, you went downstairs to see no one there but a note scribbled hastily on the table.
Y/N,
I'm sure you've noticed already that we aren't there. There was a conflict that we needed to take care of. I sent Cassian to make sure you were awake before telling him to come with us. You can have the day off.
Feyre
Well then. Your going back to bed since there was no reason for you to be awake.
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Except you couldn't.
After laying in bed for hours you couldn't fall asleep, especially since your skin was crawling.
With a huff you turned over only to see Feyre's painting of the Inner Court, including you, sitting on your bedside table.
She had gifted it to you last Solstice with the intention of making you feel like you belonged. While you appreciated her sweet intentions it did the complete opposite.
Her and Rhysand were in the center where they stood smiling, bent over Nyx, who was sound asleep. Next to Feyre stood Gwyn who was smiling at Nyx with her arm wrapped around Nesta's shoulders who clearly was trying not to smile at Cassian, who had an arm wrapped around her waist and was leaning down next to her ear. Behind Nesta stood Emerie who looked so precious as she grinned from ear to ear, standing, arms linked with Mor, who as usual, looked perfect.
You were standing next to Mor and was peeking at Nyx over Rhys' shoulder with Lucien on your other side, smiling towards the frame.
The only mistake you think she made was his eyes. Lucien's eyes looked happy, joyful. Despite that on just the other side of him stood Azriel, who had his arm around Elain and they were giving each other lovey-dovey eyes.
In reality, Lucien's eyes would be bitter and yours would be dull as well.
Gwyn would be another option for Azriel, but that didn't bother you as much as Elain did.
She had a sweet, supportive, respectful, smart mate who put no pressure on her to immediately accept the bond and even distanced himself from her to give her room to breath. And yet, even then, she went for another male.
But part of you couldn't blame her. Part of you said that if you were that pretty than maybe people would actually want you.
To silence those voices and thoughts you reached to the candle you kept beside your bed and held it in your lap.
You rolled up your sleeve to reveal the precise burn marks all along your forearm. They were in perfect lines, wrapping all around your arm up past your elbow.
Your other arm looked the same.
You were running out of room.
Before you could rethink your decision you held the flame up to your arm and bit your lip hard to keep quiet.
You genuinely didn't feel any emotion other then self-hatred, so you stared at the light, eyes dry, face blank.
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5 hours later, Feyre and the others showed up, clearly exhausted by whatever happened.
A couple minutes later you received a summoning to Rhys' office. Inside sat him and Feyre, looking grave.
With a nod as a greeting, you sat down in front of them and politely asked, "How can I be of assistance?"
"So polite. Well darling isn't it nice to see you again. Not even a hello?" a voice drawled out from the corner of the room.
You sighed before saying, still facing forward, "Hello Eris."
He came into your line of vision and leaned against the desk and said, "Hello princess. So this is what you wear when I'm not around."
You turned your head coolly towards him before sucking in a breath.
He had a large bruise on his temple, jaw, and cheek and a deep cut along his opposite cheek, yet he almost seemed to glow with power. His eyes burned bright gold yet they seemed tired.
"I know I'm beautiful love, but you don't need to gape," he said, trying to put effort into a smirk.
As much as you tried to quell it, you couldn't deny the anger that rushed through you at his appearance.
"What happened? Who did this to you?" You demanded.
At your outburst, Eris raised an eyebrow and smirked before saying, "I'm flattered, love. I had no idea how much you cared."
Ignoring his remark you asked, "Was it Beron? Is that why you cut his head off?"
His smirk only grew wider. "So you did see that."
"See what?" Rhysand spoke up.
You shifted your eyes to him, saying, "I had a dream where a women was getting backhanded, over and over by soldiers. And I was in someone else's body and they cut his head off."
His eyebrows rose before asking, "And when were you going to inform us of this?"
"Considering I had the dream last night, I was planning to tell you today," you shot back.
At Eris' chuckle you sent him a dark glare which he returned with another smirk.
"Show me," Rhys demanded.
It took him a minute or two before he looked back at you and said, "What you saw was true. Eris is now High Lord and Beron was killed by him. You know exactly why and how you saw that, don't you?"
You stiffened and refused to look at Eris. "Yes," was all you said.
Rhysand nodded and said, "That is what we were meeting about today so you are dismissed."
Still averting your eyes, you walked out into the hallway but you only got a few steps in before someone grabbed your wrist, lightly tugging you around.
It was Eris.
You looked at him with disregard and asked, "Yes?"
He gave you a pointed look at your arm, to which you stiffened even more, before asking, "Are you okay?"
"Yes," you said before turning around to walk away.
Another tug had you facing him again.
Exasperated, you asked, "What do you want?"
"I want you," was all he said before quickly adding, "and for you to be okay and not hurt yourself."
At your untrusting look he blew out a breath of air and continued, "You realize I can feel your emotions. We're mates whether you want to admit it or not. You also showed me that."
You opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off by stepping closer and saying, "And as much as you hate it, you want me. I know you want me princess. Almost as much as I want you."
You didn't say anything but your cheeks might've for you. They were certainly a deep red.
Eris chuckled before tilting your chin up and looking you dead in the eyes, saying, "I won't pressure you into this, but I ask that you at least give me some conside--"
You pulled him down by his collar and kissed him briefly.
His eyes were wide before smiling and forcing you backwards against the wall before kissing you again, longer this time.
Gently, Eris held you against the wall, weak enough that you could escape if you wanted to.
But you didn't.
Mother you didn't.
He felt right. One of his hands was on your cheek occasionally tangling in your hair, the other on the curve of your waist.
His body gave off the similar warmth that he did at the ball but this time, he was significantly warmer, or maybe that was you.
Eris let out a sigh, something akin to a moan against your lips as you tugged on his hair roughly. Both of his hands slid towards your thighs and pulled them up to settle them around his waist. You could feel how hard he was in between your legs.
Your higher position gave him easy access to your neck, making you let out a quiet whine as he bit and sucked down your jaw to your collarbone.
You grabbed his head and forced it back up to kiss again, tongues fighting for dominance.
"If you both could take this somewhere else instead of in my hallway that would be much appreciated," yelled Rhys from inside his office.
Both of you tore apart and came to your senses. Eris gently lowered you back down and cleared his throat, color dusting his cheeks.
"I have to go back to the Autumn Court, but I will try to visit as much as I am able to. And love, don't do that anymore," he said with a pointed glance at your arms, eyes flaring.
You just nodded, to breathless for words.
Before you got the chance to turn around, Eris stopped you saying, "If you'd want it, there will always be a place for you in my Court."
Hesitating you said, "I will discuss it with Feyre and Rhys."
You really wanted to go with him. A High Lord, your mate? It was too good to be true. But, you still have duties her and it wouldn't be great for Court relations if you just left.
You tried to silently convey your feelings to Eris without words since your High Lord and Lady were definitely listening.
His eyes softened and he nodded in understanding.
He would wait.
458 notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 2 months
Note
4. Trying to hide your injury from them, but failing miserably once you faint right in front of them, "5. Where does it hurt the most?" with Lucifer and reader
Injured Prompt
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
Did you know when you roll your ankle you’re not supposed to walk on it? You might’ve known that if the Pride Ring’s hospital ever answered the fucking phone!
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
If your boyfriend Lucifer wasn’t out and about today, making up for some odd months of meetings, he could’ve teleported you there in no time. Then again, if he was here he might summon Belphegor themself. Not wanting to bother anyone, you told yourself it would be fine. Besides with Hell’s “no checking out early” healing abilities, it would right itself on its own by tomorrow! That continued to be your mantra but as the day got away from you it became harder to ignore that stabbing pain in your foot.
It certainly didn’t help that you’d overexerted yourself by helping Charlie move things up and down the hall because Nifty had clogged the pipes (again) which resulted in minor flooding damage. The whole time it felt like Vaggie’s suspicious stare saw right through your poorly worn mask. Charlie asked no less than 22 times if you were ok to which you waved off her concerns. It took a few hours but the furniture was moved out of the room, leaving only a mushy carpet to deal with. Neither Kiki nor Alastor could be found and since Lucifer wasn’t there to snap the problem away, the princess attempted herself. However her powers were still a bit… undisciplined. The best she could do to try and evaporate the water had actually set the carpet on fire.
Vaggie rested her hand on Charlie’s shoulder with a soft smile, “It might be time for a break, babe. Don’t want you to overdo it.” She pointedly shot that part at you.
With a sigh the blonde conceded and allowed Vaggie to usher her out.
Simultaneously grateful but cursing the downtime, you waited a minute before leaving yourself. Now that you've slowed to a stop your ankle throbbed with vengeance. Peeling your sock back to take a peek, you gasped. Your foot was definitely not purple this morning! Shit shit shit, it was definitely time for a break!
You limped to the elevator, using the wall for support when Lucifer rounded the corner. Like the wall had tried to bite you, you yanked your hand from it and forced both feet flat on the ground. You grimaced, poorly trying to conceal it with a smile.
“Duckie!” You greeted through a wheeze. Has breathing been this hard all day?
With much more enthusiasm in his voice, he sang your name and rushed over. Lucifer lifted you off the ground to spin with you in his arms, unknowingly providing momentary relief. His laugh and smile were infectious. Just a second with him had swept you into the world you shared and washed away your troubles. Unfortunately they returned once he set you down and despite how gently he did, you hissed when you touched the floor again.
“What was that?” He asked with a tilted head, holding onto your waist.
“Oh, uh, I’m practicing my Sir Pentious impression!”
You’re unsure why you lied. Maybe a part of you wanted to pretend for a little longer. You think back to the time you got a paper cut and he forced you into bed rest for three days. Once he found out about your ankle nearly snapping in half, you would, inadvertently, send him spiraling into his mother duck state of mind! And the poor man never seemed to catch a break! You didn’t want to stress him out over something that would heal.
He seemed to believe your fib.
At least someone did because it was getting harder to convince yourself.
“It’s good, it’s good!” Lucifer nodded thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes. You instantly knew he was trying to recall just who the serpent fellow was. “Anywho, I ran into Charlie just now. Heard this place almost fell apart without me, huh?”
He nudged your arm with his elbow, prompting you to laugh instead of focusing on the pain. You forced the sound out a bit too much to try and make leaning against the wall look natural. It didn’t. You almost collapsed against the surface, sliding down as your leg began to give. Lucifer slipped his hands under your arms, doing the majority work of holding you up. Your head began nodding off and you realized you were face to face with him. Not a good sign considering your height difference. He was wearing his nervous grin that you knew all too well he only put on before he started panicking internally.
“Darling, is this part of the Sir Pina Colada impression? Starting to, uh, worry over here.”
“Nothing, nothing. I think… I just… nee..”
The last thing you see is Lucifer’s smile dropping entirely, pupils shrinking to worry-filled slits.
Then black.
~
There’s a moment while waking up where it’s pure bliss. You’re not you; you’re not anyone. You barely exist— and then you do. The worries, memories, pain; it all comes rushing up on you like a train and hits you just as hard. You scrunch your nose and pull your eyebrows together as you attempt to sit up. Silk under your palms have you acutely aware that you’re not in your bed, but Lucifer’s. And you know what they say about speaking of the devil.
“Oh no! Nonononono, I don’t think so,” He sings, gently pushing your shoulders back until you’re flat against the plushy pillows, “You’ve got some explaining to do. ”
“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” You groan, “I thought I had it under control! I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Au contraire, darling, I want to worry about you! Just maybe not that much next time, alright? I think I had a heart attack! If that’s what those feel like… Ech.” Lucifer was wracked by a shiver, shaking off the final wave with his head.
You let out a breathy laugh.
The man smiled at the sound and honed his full attention on you, forcing a serious, but soft, tone, “Now! Doctor Morningstar is here to help, so tell me, where does it hurt most? ”
“My ankle.”
You recoiled when he attempted to peel away your sock. He muttered an apology, studying your foot rather unfazed. As interesting as it was to watch him get truly somber about something, you couldn’t appreciate it right now. The fire spreading from your ankle stole all your senses and he wasn’t even touching it anymore.
“It wasn’t all purple-y yesterday right? We might have to amputate.”
���Lucifer.” You growled through grit teeth.
He chuckled. “Sorry. That one killed when Charlie was younger. Ok, ok! Pain management first, jokes later.”
There was a heavy knock on the door that made both of you turn your heads. Your eyes narrowed while a bright grin spread across his porcelain face.
“Are you expecting someone?” You asked suspiciously.
“Belphegor, of course!”
Of course.
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eggroll-sama · 2 months
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Who’s My Roommate?
The Touchstarved cast are at a hotel and can’t decide who will be their roommates. Some are against certain pairings. You don’t really care, but they seem they’ve got a few colorful opinions || Touchstarved LI x reader. All of them have a crush on you, but you’re oblivious. I had this in my drafts for a while but I finally got the motivation to finish it. Just light-hearted shenanigans. Sorry if there are any typos!
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“I don’t want Leander,” said Vere, his arms crossed and glaring at the man across from him.
They didn’t think deciding on rooming buddies would be so hard. There were exactly three rooms, side by side, and anyone who knew basic math understood there would be two people per room. The problem was, who and who?
Vere and Ais were the first pairing that came to mind. But then Mhin complained that they didn’t want to hear them having sex at two in the morning. You and Kuras could sympathize so argued that, no, Vere and Ais cannot be together in the same room. Vere was angry, Ais was indifferent. He preferred Vere’s company over others, but as long as he didn’t get Mhin he was fine. He found the idea of Mhin aiming a knife to his neck fun, but in the end he didn’t want to deal with them pestering him like a fly.
And then there was Leander. If they went off the reason of not wanting to hear someone having sex, then Leander was tough. He had had sex with half of the members in the group: Ais, Mhin, and (maybe) Vere. You still didn’t really know if they did it or not.
“I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same room as Leander,” you said. Everyone stiffened except for the man in question, who had a cocky smile on his face. Secretly, everyone wanted to room with you, but they didn’t want to admit it.
Kuras stepped in before Leander could make a comment, and steered the conversation to possibly drawing sticks so it would be fair for everyone and well, not everyone was happy with their partners. Vere got Leander, Mhin got Ais, and you got Kuras. You weren’t against Kuras being your roommate; he was a gentleman and minded his own business. He didn’t seem like he was against rooming with you either. The others were not so happy with their results.
“I’m not rooming with a monster,” Mhin spat, venom lacing their words, glaring holes in the back of Ais’ head.
Ais ignored them, while Vere rolled his eyes.
“Oh yeah, well nobody wants to deal with an annoying midget like you. I think you forgot to pack your booster seat.”
Vere snickered as Mhin’s face turned red from anger.
“Hey hey now hold on, MC said that they were fine with rooming with me, so why not just leave the two of us out of it?” Leander said, arms snaking around your shoulder.
“No, you soft penis numbskull. You’re not rooming with MC.” Mhin stepped in. When the others looked at Mhin curiously, they coughed nervously and looked away.
You tried to lighten the mood with a joke, “Ais and Leander are best friends. We should room them together.”
The corner of Leander’s smile frayed at your joke. Ais narrowed his eyes at you. At least Vere was laughing, probably at you for your failed attempt to lighten the mood, but at least he laughed. You drew into yourself. You’ve forgotten the others were getting quite annoyed by the arguing. This was serious business that might mean life or death.
“How about we draw sticks again?” You suggested meekly, trying to move past the awkwardness.
“No, it’s just a waste of time,” intervened Vere, “we all clearly have our preferences, so how about we list anyone we don’t want to room with? I go first. I hate all four of you, fortunately, so I’m going to room with Ais or no one.”
“I don’t have a preference,” said Leander with a blush.
“We know,” Vere rolled his eyes.
“At this point let’s just room the two people that are the doormats of this group, Leander and Vere. It’s the easiest way to deal with them,” said Mhin.
“Or how about we room Leander in one room and Vere in the other one, and then we all share the last one,” you suggest. At this point you were running out of ideas and throwing them out randomly hoping you would hit a jackpot.
“I’m not invited to the foursome? That is unfortunate to hear,” Vere said.
“It’s getting too complicated. Room Vere with MC, Mhin with Leander, and me and Kuras. That should be good,” suggested Ais, getting impatient.
“I’m afraid that would be endangering MC’s safety,” said Kuras coolly, ignoring Vere’s exasperated reaction.
He quickly switched to his flirty demeanor, a coy smile on his lips, “Oh, but I don’t bite. Unless they ask me.” Mhin scoffed in the background. Kuras was expressionless. If he reacted to Vere’s tasteless innuendos, he would give the fox exactly what he wanted. So he stayed quiet and didn’t let his face give anything away.
“I agree with Kuras on this one. A bloody, mangled corpse is the last thing we want to deal with,” said Mhin. Though Mhin said this, you knew that they cared about your safety.
Ais sighed in defeat, pulling out a cigarette and a match, “I’m going out for a smoke.” You couldn’t blame him, they’ve been arguing for the past thirty minutes. Ais walked off to the entrance of the hotel.
Seeing Ais walk off, Vere waved their fingers before sauntering off in the same direction.
“The dog went to take a walk with it’s owner. Good grief,” said Mhin.
“We still need to get this rooming situation settled. I’m sure the others won’t mind if we decided without them,” said Kuras.
He sighed, “From what I’ve observed, the best rooming pairs seems like the fox and Ais, Mhin and MC, and Leander and I. We’ll take the middle room, Mhin and MC take the left, and Vere and Ais the right. That way Mhin wouldn’t be disturbed from any unnecessary sounds at night.”
“I could live with that,” said Mhin.
Leander didn’t seem too pleased with the end-result, but he wasn’t going to complain, “Alright. Guess I get to room with the good doctor tonight. Hey, maybe we can finally get some dinner, you and I.”
“Perhaps,” said Kuras, but from his indifferent expression and hollow tone it sounded more like a no.
“Ah,” was all Leander said. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Then, he pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket, “I brought cards with me. Anyone wanna play Poker in an hour or two, our room?”
You smiled, “I like Poker. Bet I could beat you,” you nudged his shoulder teasingly.
“Sure.” Leander said with a laugh, but the way he said it almost sounded…condescending? You raised your brows, but before you could fully process it, Leander had already started speaking, “Would the doctor like to join as well?”
Must’ve been my imagination.
“I suppose if you are going to play in our room, I could join for a game or two.”
Kuras reply seemed to brighten Leander’s mood from the thinly-veiled rejection for dinner a few seconds ago.
“Great! How about you Mhin!”
“I’m tired.” Mhin grabbed their bags and started heading for the elevator, ignoring Leander’s invitation. You saw Leander’s smile falter.
“I’ll try convincing them,” you whispered to Leander who gave you an appreciative smile.
You had the keys to the room, so after saying goodbye to the other two, quickly followed after your small companion.
“I’m glad I get to room with you, Mhin,” you said while waiting for the elevator with them.
Mhin huffed at your words, turning away, “Right.” In the corner of your eyes you could see their pale skin get pinker just a tad. You smiled to yourself at their reaction. You weren’t really sure what the rest of the day will entail, but at least you were able to get through the hurdle of deciding who will be your roommate.
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blingblong55 · 7 months
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Matilda- Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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Photo creds:@ave661^
Based on a request:
Ghost finding out his s/o has a bad family, who she doesn’t keep in contact with but talks shit about and is like. Pretty open about how fucking awful her past was? if it’s too much I get it but like- I used to love your angst posts :3 they were so yummy! --- F!Reader, 18+, angst, comfort, family issues/trauma, mentions of SA/rape, mentions of eating disorders, toxic!family, mentions of child abuse, so...trigger warning!! ---
A/N: this is me trauma dumping so I'm sorry if it isn't perfect
Simon knew, he knew well that you weren't so open to starting a family with him for reasons he knew best to respect. But, one day, without him even realising he asked the question, you sat down and told him the story your teary eyes held for so long. As he listened to you explain the stories, he noticed how he wasn't speaking to his wife but to the little girl, his wife once was. The one who was left in a cruel world to people who shouldn't have had kids. "So, they...abused you?" He carefully asked and when he noticed you pause, he knew the answer you didn't. "I...I don't think so," your soft words spoke. 
Nothing about the way you were treated seemed especially alarming 'til now
"What I know is that they were mean, evil to me. I was a kid...how was I to know right from wrong so easily?" You held his hand, support you failed to have as a child. Then, you told him the story of a young R/N. "I don't remember the exact age, but I could've been 5 through 8. I was there, he took me to his room, I thought we were going to play and he said we would so would I have known, you know?" Your innocent voice spoke the fear he held. "I don't remember much of that day but in glimpses, if I look too deep, I can see his hands between my thighs, and how he...well...you know," you couldn't explain, it was like a knot in your throat prevented to cause your heart more harm. "And you didn't tell your parents?" His voice is soft. You shake your head, "No, I...as a kid, they never believed what I said," you chuckle out of coping with it all.
"There was one time when my older sister tried to suffocate me, I didn't do anything to deserve it, all I did was watch cartoons and she annoyed me but I knew best and didn't feed into what she wanted from me." You pause and wipe some tears away. Your gaze never fell on his, afraid to break down too easily if you stared at the man who became home to you so long ago. He was that, he was comfort and home and you knew that if you stole one glance, you would be sobbing the stories. Your hand held his tighter, he knew well it was for comfort. "She pressed the pillow tight on my head, I was sick and my stupid lungs couldn't take the fact I had pneumonia, so of course killing me would be easier," you chuckle again. His gaze never left your delicate face and even he had to admit he cried as you told him these stories. 
After a long sigh and pause you continue, "I somehow pushed her off me and ran to my parent's room, knocked loud and when my dad opened the door I swore I finally felt safe until I didn't," You know he was ready to ask why but you just laid your head on his shoulder. Looking off into the distance you continued, "My sister told them I pushed her, told her that I hated her, which is not true because hate is strong and she is my sister," you shake your head. "I cried when they didn't believe me, and had a panic attack in their room. and when I backed into a corner as my mother and father yelled at me...that's when they took my sister to the hallway and my mother stayed with me, she tried to hug me but I didn't need none of that...not from her." His hand rubbed your arm, knowing what you needed from him. You wipe some tears away, your breathing hitches and he wraps both arms around you. "I didn't hurt her Simon, I swear I didn't but no one believes me, no one," you whisper the last part. "I know you didn't, my love," he kisses your head and continues to rub your arm. 
"I believe you, I'll always believe you before anyone else," he reminds you. "I...my mother gave me water and sent me to my room, told me to just sleep it off," you stop and cry. "Oh my love," he whispers and carries you onto his lap. The pouty frown broke his heart more and more. The cosy home he and you made for the years of your life, warming up his belief that slowly, he will replace all those bad years. The fireplace radiates heat on the snowy winter day. "In this world, I'll always believe you, no matter what, okay, my love?" He looks down and you nod. "That's my girl," he says and places a blanket over you both. "Do you want to continue, my love?" He asks, rubbing your back with his warm touch. 
"I do," your voice is small. It was best to open about this and then burn it and let the ashes fly away than to keep it locked in for eyes to see. "I...as I grew up, I knew I had no place in that house. My mother shamed me for my body, and so did everyone in my family." Your head nuzzling onto his chest like a cat finding comfort. "So, I starved myself to be the perfect daughter. I did try to be perfect, I tried to get an I love you, a simple smile or hug." He nods, understanding where you came from. "One time, my mother grabbed my stomach, she told me I was fat and looking back at how I was at that age, I...I was healthy, nothing was ever wrong with me, nothing," you repeat in a whisper. 
After a long time of comfortable silence, you speak again. "As I grew older, they made me feel terrible about all of me, how I dressed, if I did my makeup, my hair, my body, the stretch marks that decorated my body, all of it and even I wasn't allowed to have one bad day, not one." He shook his head and in that instant, he understood why all those years of loving you, you always avoided starting a family conversation. You were afraid to be like them, to persist in a cycle of never-ending trauma. He knew you loved him, he knew how much you yearned to be a mum, to watch him and you become parents and do foolish things for and with your child. 
"I never understood why I was so insecure over my thighs or why I hated when people touched them, but as I grew older and noticed that I was...you know... I..um.." You could never be admitted, never say you were raped as a child, not when you were scared to acknowledge it again. "I know love," he responds so you don't torture your heart anymore. "But...when I realised what happened to me, that's when it all hit me and there was a time in my young life that I knew I would never forget," you kept holding onto his torso. "It hadn't been long after what that...person...did to me when my mum and sisters pinned me to the ground, they knew then that I disliked people touching my thighs so they pinned me to the ground and touched them," you shake your head, trying to forget the moment. "They...th-they touched my body as I cried and begged for them to stop and not once did anyone stop or help me. My father walked by and he...he just laughed and kept walking...how...how can you do that?" You cried. "How can a parent do that? I was a kid, Simon...a child," you broke down. 
"And don't get me started on why I felt like Christmas was just not a happy holiday anymore." Your mind went to a past Christmas, your family yelling, your father accused of his cheating, never denying, just lying and yelling at your mother. You hid in a closet, grabbed headphones and played music loudly. Hours passed and your mother saw fear within her eyes as she cried to you, why can he love me? she asked as she cried, you played strong. Your father drove away, leaving his family scared and cornered in a bathroom, crying as they listened to stories. 
"My dad used to hit me, well, my entire family really," you confessed. His eyes widened, he knew they were bad, but not this bad. "My dad had a belt he used to hit me with, my mother and sisters used to watch. One time, they added more fuel to the fire as they told him more lies to get me into more trouble, part of me thinks they loved to watch me cry and get hit." You so innocently say, "When I was a kid and even as I grew older, my mum and dad would hit me and tell me they did it because they loved me." He shook his head, "Never...never in your life do you dare think that way. If I even dare to lift my hand at you, you leave me, my love. Because no matter how much you or I love the other, abuse doesn't equal love," he cups your face. You nod. 
You learned one thing from Simon as he listened, that he was calm after the bad storm. He had his troubles, yes, but never would he be like them. He and you healed the other after all those years of a bad life you lived. You and him, sunshine to the other even in the darkest of the night. He has become light and a new beginning. Family. And as you admire the soul who can tell which smiles you are faking, you know that the little girl in you is finally safe. She has packed her dolls and sweater, moved to the countryside, grew up and fell in love with a man. A man who is home, a man who became the grown-up little R/N runs to when scared. For he is home, he is light and he is love. He is your man, your safe place and the one you find comfort in. 
I don't believe that time will change your mind In other words I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go
"No more," he told you, you looked up at him in confusion. "No more?" you asked and he shook his head. "From this day on, you are not their blood, you are a Riley, you are R/N Riley and never will you be associated with them." He cupped your face. His tone was stern as he tried to make you listen to him. "They are not family, my love. They are strangers you lived with. And me...I am your family, we don't need another shit Christmas, we can...hm...we can have dinner here, or maybe get takeout and watch your favourite movies all day and night. Hey, who knows, maybe that Santa Clause man will come in the night as we sleep and hopefully you've been nice my love because I want him to bring you some good gifts," he chuckles as he cups your delicate face. You laugh a little, "Hey, look who's back, that cute laugh of yours my love," he kisses your lips and pulls you to him, closer than you already were. 
You can start a family who will always show you love You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own
In this lifetime, you will learn many things and you will meet many people. Most of which will come and go. Those who stay, you may ask? Well, they become a family, maybe not a biological one but it's not blood that relates two strangers. It's memories, it's understanding, growing, living and loving. Family is him, family is the old lady or that professor you bonded with. Family is people who make you feel safe and at home. For if you are lucky, in this life you will find your Simon Riley. The person who wraps you in a warm blanket and loves you a little more when you hate the reflection in the mirror. And if you get even luckier, you will find that not only will it be Simon Riley who heals your old wounds and covers them in kisses and caresses. You will find yourself, maybe in ten years, getting covered in glitter, mud, and stickers and having the walls of your home drawn on by Simon's child. The love child that was created on a warm Christmas morning. The same one that wakes you up at six in the morning to go and see what the big red man brought them for Christmas. 
And if you are lucky enough, you will find peace. The same one you looked for since age 5, the same one you cried for throughout the years. Maybe it won't come this year, but if you are patient enough, you will find it and when you do, appreciate it because you cried for it many moons ago.
You don't have to be sorry, no
A/N: the tears I shed as I wrote this made a river. Anyway, thank you for letting me dump years of trauma with this one, love you all <3
Tags:
@ghostslillady @liyanahelena @sans-chara @siwwayouu @allaboutirem0 @just3rowsing @mothcelestial @blankk3
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keenzinemugstudent · 1 year
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Miguel O'Hara x Black godparent reader imagines
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Okay people Miguel likes you but your Miles godparent basically his second parent so he tries keyword TRIES to be much nicer to Miles when around you because he sees how much you absolutely adore this kid but it's so hard because he doesn't like the kid (poor Miles) Miles see's how much he likes you and tries to help but Miguel is stubborn as hell and doesn't want help but he's gonna need it because let's face it the man wants you to like him and knows he's gonna need a lot of help so who better to get to help him than Miles?
Plan 1 show that he is deeply sorry for trying to annihilate your poor godson and try to convince you that it was a mistake and will definitely NEVER happen again at first you weren't buying into it but took Miles to get you to see there was no hard feelings and everything was water under the bridge so you accepted his apology but you were still on guard for whatever was to come which was a good start on a newfound friendship between you and Miguel Peter b had made a joke that Miguel looked like a sad puppy which had almost made Miguel want to hurt the man
Plan 2 You need help you with your spidey training you're still new to the whole Spider-Man thing and because now you're a spider person you're still trying to get the hang of it so Miles with the help of Gwen convinces you to have Miguel offers to help train you which you quickly declined because you did not want to be left alone with the man and you didn't want to waste his time but Miguel had no problems with helping you train he happily offered this man was desperate to have you like him, you were thankful for his help but and it got a bit rocky starting with him kind of being impatient and yelling at tou and you hard-headed and stressed out from trying to do your best well you both started yelling at each other which made you lose focus on you sticking to the wall and you fell from the ceiling but luckily he was quick enough to catch you in his arms before you hit the ground you were blushing like an idiot being carried by this man and quickly thanked him than ran out the room Miguel looked at you run and sat on the ground face in hand cursing in Spanish ears red, while Gwen and Miles hide behind the corner smirking.
Plan 3 gives you lots and mean LOT'S of praise you like being told your doing a good job and that your working hard also compliments will get you to be flustered the whole day Miles knows this first hand because he always brags to people about how awesome his godparent in hand to hand combat (you taught him a couple of moves) which Peter b learned the hard way after doubting your fighting skills let's just say he does not want to ever get on your bad side EVER! So while training you got the hang of swinging from place to place and to stick / crawling to the walls Miguel took this as an opportunity to congratulate you and compliment you on your improvement which got you blushing and stuttering like an idiot around the man but it also got you the smile big and hug him which made his heart beat fast the man was trying so hard to make it not obvious that he was interested in you nearly which was a big fail because everyone and I mean everyone knew that he liked you.
Plan 4 you loved food and loved to try new food so yeah when Miles told Miguel this and he quickly wiped something up for you. He is a good cook he actually loves to cook but no one knows this so shhhh Miles told him what type of food you liked too eat and Miguel happily made it but was a nervous wreck he didn't know if he made it just right but lucky you loved the food doing a cute little happy dance, after a hards day of work fighting bad guys you fell asleep on his shoulder making the poor man go red in the face he felt eyes on him only to turn to see most of the spider gang giving him a thumbs up he actually hissed at them which made them go away in fear from being bitten and or paralyzed by the man.
Plan 5 you didn't have a outfit for being a spiderman/woman all you had was a (favorite color) T-shirt with the spider symbol on it and (favorite color) jeans or shorts with combat boots, so Miguel with the help of Gwen who got you to talk about what type of outfit you would love to wear and the man Miguel immediately had Lyla get to work on your outfit let's just say you were absolutely in love with your outfit and gave the poor man kisses all over his face dude was so shocked he just stood there with the lipstick markings on his face and lips. Peter b tried to snap him out of it but nothing worked the man was frozen like a statue, Miles thought it was funny but was just annoyed he was happy though, Gwen just laughed because dun dun dunnnnn ladies and gentlemen you already knew that Miguel liked you! Shocking right? You told Gwen you knew that he had asked Miles for help for you to like him but you did not know this until plan 4 when you feel asleep on him and he admitted his feelings for you to your sleeping body (you're only half asleep) so yeah you just wanted him to work for your affections which was working but you might need a little bit more convincing though guess we're going to have to wait and see.
I know this is like really cringe but I had a fun making this so I hoped you guys like to reading, and yeah I know Miguel is out of character but I tired okay!
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ghouljams · 9 months
Note
I DONT KNOW WHY, but bewitched by laufey awfully reminds me of knight ghost with princess reader
except the song would be ghost's pov
abso-fucking-lutely you're right on all of that. Here's the bewitching:
If you'd told Ghost that he'd be called on to be the crown princess's personal guard, he would've laughed. He would've told you he was hardly interested in such an "honor" and that he's sure her most royal brattiness must have better prospects to scare off. Surely you must have been such a petty handful that the other knights offered the position had declined, leaving him next in the long line.
Although, it was flattering to hear he was even in consideration. He'd sure worked his ass off to be the best of the best. Making something out of nothing but a failing title thanks to his father's- Well, the man was a better father 6ft underground than he'd ever been in life, and that's all he really needed to say on it. Ghost didn't think much of the summons. He couldn't ignore it, of course, but that didn't mean he had to take it seriously. He could run a little late.
Ghost's pace is slow as he walks through the castle. Admiring the architecture, he told his escort, who looked far less than pleased with that answer. He did his best to stall, hopefully the princess would be fuming by the time he arrived and he could be dismissed easily. No muss, no fuss.
Uneven footsteps race down the hall behind him as he and his escort turn the corner. He pays it no mind, likely a maid, no reason to pay them mind. Until they slam into his back and bounce off. He turns, wide eyed, in time to see you fall on the floor, landing hard on your ass with a pained expression. It doesn't fit such a pretty face. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and Ghost has to shake himself out of staring at you. His escort has already scurried ahead to see about buying him some time.
"You alright?" Ghost asks, helping you to your feet. You wobble a little, he keeps hold of your hand to keep you steady. "You broken?" He tries, brow furrowing at your changing height as you shift on your feet. He doesn't know you, he certainly wouldn't be here if he did.
"No," You lift your foot, and Ghost glances down, one of your feet already in just a sock, "but, I'm afraid I'm running terribly late." You tell him, glancing behind you and pushing your hair out of your face as you unlace your remaining shoe.
"Maybe I can help you, where-" Ghost watches as you tug your shoe off and shove it against chest.
"Hold that please," He blinks, and takes the heel from you, judging by your clothes you must be of high status. He's never seen a lady running around barefoot before. "Now if you'll excuse me, Sir Knight, I really am in a rush, and I have a baron hot on my tail attempting to hold me hostage another hour still."
Another glance behind you, one Ghost leans to check for as well. You must be quick to have outrun a man he can't even see the sweat of. He wonders if you lost your other shoe somewhere along the way or if you, perhaps, threw it at the baron to buy yourself some time. That look in your eyes is wickedly clever when it meets his again. You nod to him once and slip around him to take off running again.
"Wait, I'm-" Ghost stops, and sighs watching you slide around another corner. "The fuck am I supposed to do with this?" He grumbles to himself, tossing your shoe to his other hand as he walks. He'll pass it off to his escort once he meets up with him again. He's pretty sure he went the same way you did.
The escort looks rather harried when he spots him in front of the reception chamber's doors. Big fancy things that have guards waiting to open them on either side. His escort enters to tell the King and Queen that the newest guard candidate has arrived. Ghost tries not to eavesdrop.
"I haven't needed an escort since I was a little girl I'm-"
"A flight risk," The Queen says firmly
"I'd hardly call running from a daft old man a flight risk," The King grumbles. Ghost chuckles a little to himself. His escort slips back out of the throne room to tell him they're not quite ready for him. Which seems strange considering how much time they've had to prepare.
A maid exits one of the nearby rooms with a pair of slippers and something clicks in Ghost's head. Despite his escort's best attempts at stopping him, Ghost enters the throne room with the maid, and watches your sweet face fall as silence covers the royal family. The maid too, it seems, doesn't know what to do.
"Sir Simon Riley," Ghost announces himself, "I was called about being her highness's personal guard."
"It seems you've already run into each other," The Queen's lips purse, eyes on the heeled shoe in Ghost's hands. He offers the offending shoe to the maid, and takes the slippers.
"This is really-" You whisper to him, Ghost hums, slips the silk slipper onto your foot. You swallow, try again, "I'm sorry to have troubled you, I can't imagine how you must think of me."
"Briefly," He tells her. You're still standing at the bottom of the steps to the throne; apparently having had time only to argue with your parents, not take your seat, in the time between bumping into him and getting here.
"Sir Riley," you start.
"Ghost," he corrects you, "if I'm going to be your guard, I'd like you to call me Ghost."
"Ghost," you start again, not even a hint of annoyance in your voice. Actually, you sound a little embarrassed. It's cute. He likes how easily you give in to him. "I'm sure you'd find this position terribly boring, and a waste of your many talents."
Ghost drops to one knee, and pats his thigh, you quickly raise your foot to settle on him.
"I mean, I'm really not the flight risk my mother thinks I am, and I hardly think you want to accompany me on diplomatic excursions-" he holds your ankle to slip the new house shoe on "-or trips into town. Wouldn't you rather be off, I don't know, fighting marauders and dragons?"
"What do you think knights do, princess?" He smiles, setting your foot on the floor and prompting you for the other one. "It's my privilege to serve you, one I'm enjoying so far."
You feel heat brust over your cheeks, finally taking in the man in front of you. This man is a trained combatant and yet here he is helping you put your shoes on. Christ, you'd literally run into him, and now he was. Why was he treating you so nicely, he should be laughing at the idea of serving you.
"No," He murmurs back, "You can't imagine what I think of you." He stands as you settle your foot back on the ground, and takes your hand, bowing his head to kiss the back of it. "But, rest assured those thoughts are good, my lady."
741 notes · View notes
bahrtofane · 3 months
Text
about time
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things have always been easy with trent, attached to the hip since you could remember. your other half, his biggest supporter. things were bound to turn romantic no? everyone was rooting for it, secretly you always were too. 
your first date as a couple goes more or less how you planned, awkward and full of teasing. 
word count : 3.1K+
watch it : mild jealousy, cuties, fluff fluff, kinda domestic near the end?
—--
“eat your food." 
you squint, "what the hell else am i doing, you eat your food."
he scoffs, "im literally half way done with my plate."
"it's literally not even a proper portion of course you're almost done." you point at his tiny little section of steak on about a tablespoon of mash potatoes. 
he waves you off and makes a comment about the "liberty of a kitchen."
you ignore this and take another bite of whatever the hell you ordered. you don't remember. you were too busy trying not to focus too much on the man in front of you.  the all black outfit is insanity, you know he only went for it because you told him ages ago all black looks the best on him. and now here you are. suffering
you just nodded to whatever the waitress was saying. though she could have done with less ogglying at your date. your trent. 
you take pride in knowing your his go to, his best friend, his #1. you've been by his side longer than you can remember being without. he's your other half in every sense. before the fame and money, lavish life and dwindling time. he's always been yours somehow. 
maybe you should've known at some point that feelings were bound to be brewing. 
everyone and their mother had told you. hell, even your own mother had told you so. but you waved them off. he's my friend, no trent is my best friend, ew no that would be so weird, i can't even stand hin on a good day, he's annoying, nope just friends. 
now look at you. seated across from each other, his sleeves rolled up while you eat in candle light. the dark blue drapery of the establishment makes this feel way more intimate than needed. and the chandeliers that hang over your head are enough to make you stare in wonder. 
his sharp features almost soften like this, tucked away in a far corner away from prodding eyes and unnecessary media attention. where it's only the two of you in your little bubble, and the soft live piano that travels from the main foye. you enjoy this, but mainly you enjoy him. 
you noticed he cleaned up his facial hair for this, it makes your heart melt. the silver jewelry that shines on his golden skin is a mirror of the silver that drapes across you. he told you to wear silver. the maniac. he planned this all the way down to the damn jewelry. 
(the both of you are matching in general, which makes you feel something closer to insanity, it gives you a thrill when people’s gazes wash over the two of you and they can so easily tell you are here together. for each other. the stares you got while walking in don't go unforgotten.)
he's the one who dragged you to this restaurant, one much more fancy that you care for. any establishment that calls for floor length dresses to eat is above you, but he insisted. even taking time to tell you how stunning you looked on the way here. your cheeks were on fire the whole time you tried to come up with a counter, failing miserably and just telling him he looked handsome too. 
what a gentleman, driving you here and keeping a hand on yours the whole time. you were sweating the whole time. this whole thing is new to you. but you try not to explode while you sit across from him, sipping on your water to avoid eye contact. 
trent pretends to suddenly be very interested in the silverware, but you don't miss the way his gaze still manages to shift over to you, landing somewhere between your eyes and lips.
you sigh loudly, your appetite disappearing while you push your plate in front of you. 
"do not even start." he warns, fork raised and pointed at you. 
"i didn't even do anything ! what's with you tonight. "
"could ask you the same thing," he mumbles between mouthfuls of his steak, "you're being, very weird."
"im on a dinner date with you how else do you want me to act."
he coughs awkwardly at this, "i don't know ! normally. you haven't made fun of my shoes yet. where's the old grouchy evil and conniving friend i know. you're too, " he waves his fork in the air trying to find the right word, "civil."
you snort, "that's a mouthful. i don't know this whole dynamic shift is taking a while to get used to, " you shrug.
"we need to stop saying i don't know so often." he sighs, rubbing his eyes aggressively. 
you choose to ignore that bit, "and i need to be civil in public or your adoring fans might have my head."
he rolls his eyes, "that's a stretch."
you wave him off with a hand, "you never know. crazy people do crazy things."
he looks at you fondly at this, giving you one of his signature smiles, you look away and change the subject as fast as you can think. you don't need weak knees in a high end establishment. 
"you know i would've been just fine with takeout and a movie." you mumble softly.
he gives you a soft look " i know, but i wanted to make it special. take you out somewhere nice for a change. we never do that."
"you're not going to let me pay are you?" you muse.
he gives you a look, "im offended you even brought that up. i hope you know you're never going to be paying for things ever again right."
"and i hope you know i'm going to fight you over it the whole way through."
he finds this amusing, "yeah yeah yeah shut up and eat your food, i think my socks are sliding off my foot."
"i don't want to hear about your sweaty foot while i eat trent, gross." you fake gag. 
"cry about it." he dead pans. 
you narrow your eyes at him, "i'm going to talk about the pimple i popped on my shoulder, in great detail. is that what you want?"
"ew gross hell no. no more socks or feet geez." he scoffs. 
you cackle, "problem solved then."
he rolls his eyes but goes back to eating anyway, cutting his steak with way too much force than necessary. 
you on the other hand have to play tug of war with the fabric of your dress in order to keep it where you want it. 
"you want to leave don't you?" he comments. 
"that obvious?" he nods, "yep," popping the p.
"i don't want it to seem like I'm ungrateful for the effort or anything, because i swear it's not like that. i'm happy to be with you regardless and yeah. we don't have to leave." you try to explain. 
as much as you enjoy spending time with him this isn't your scene. you're aching to go home, and so are you poor ankles. these heels can only be worn for so long and they are coming up on their expiration date for the night. maybe trent can help take them- no fuck. bad. bad bad. this is a dinner, you're at dinner be civil. 
trent seems to be none the wiser as his attention remains on you. 
"why would we stay if you don't want to ?" he looks at you confused, brows drawn together, arm propped up against the table while he waits for an explanation. 
"because you're the one who wanted to come here?" "so? if you wanna go home then we'll go home."
home. oh. he's starting to refer to his house as home. for the both of you. that does something to you, you're almost dizzy. god how can one person be so sweet. 
"we can finish up and head home? i really don't mind." you suggest. 
he hums at this, "alright then. we’re stopping by the chinese place you like so much, you didn't even eat. "
"to be fair, the portions are the size of my pinkie and i think they took too much creative liberty in the kitchen." you wrinkle your nose. 
he giggles, that shy little spurt of laughter, the one you love so much and always try to coax out of him, "i forget the flavors can be uh, adventurous with most of their dishes. "
you chuckle, "definitely adventurous."
he flags down the waitress from earlier who bats her eyelashes one too many times at him while you roll your eyes. he gives you a glare while he pays, before you can open your mouth. while you get up, dusting your dress down, he presses you flush to him, effectively shutting down any advances. you can't help but grin at the little act. even if your skin is on fire from the contact.
your lead out the back by one of the valets to avoid the busy main section and the endless cameras that wait for you from the front.
you step out to a colder night than you expected, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. the valet steps away to retrieve his car while you shiver harder than a skeleton animatronic in a halloween pop up store. 
trent notices, coming up behind you to wrap both arms around your waist, pulling you close. 
"cold?" he has the nerve to ask, flush against you and the damn dress that clings against your skin, his breath tickles your ear while you lick your lips nervously. his arms are much more muscular up close. the whole of him is, you can feel the efforts of his training as they hold you. good lord you're going to lose your mind. and the chest you're pressed up against? do not.
"a little." you whisper back, afraid to say much more.  
he hums, rubbing your arms for you, sending goosebumps all the way down your spine, and he has the audacity to chuckle at your reaction. 
"cars gonna be here soon."
you can only nod dumbly.
he unlatches when the car comes into view. thanking the man with a clap on shoulder, almost like an old friend, and a generous tip.
he opens the door for you, holding his arm out to help you balance, sweet of him. 
you duck inside while he says his last thanks and goodbyes to the valet, turning on the heat first thing when he gets inside. 
the drive is silent, not much to talk about after you confessed your love to each other just days before. 
you could almost laugh at the complete 180 from this week to the last. youre so so glad it ended up this way nonetheless. you don't think you could handle another second suffering in silence. 
how it all went down makes you cry in full honesty. it was an argument. over fucking instagram. you were bitching about the girls who are on his dick and he called you over protective and you defended yourself because duh. that somehow had spiraled into how he's insane, and then your relationship. and then you stormed out, don't ask, you don't remember. 
he tracked you down at your place with flowers as an apology and you just lost it, because what kind of friend gets flowers and calls in just platonic?
lucky for the both of you it wasnt platonic, not to him, not to you. 
he confessed first, that you were more important to him than any of the women he follows combined and so much more. you're his everything can't you see that? he loves you, in every sense. he hates seeing you upset so please, don't cry. 
you kissed him, slow and hesitant while he broke out in giggles. 
"does that mean what i think it does ?" he had whispered against your lips. 
you nodded, shy and tender. 
"i need to hear it. please, say it." breathless, at the cusp of losing his grip on everything. 
"i love you trent, more than i think i can explain. you are my other half yeah? my everything."
and so here you are, watching the shapes of the city breeze past you as the gps guides you to your beloved chinese take out. you can almost taste the noodles you're so ready for it you're starving. 
a hand rests on your thigh, softly tracing shapes the rest of the way there and you hide a smile. you don't think you'll ever get used to any of this new found affection. things you once only day dreamed of having now right in front of you.
you're drowsy by the time you pull into the familiar parking lot. you giggle at just how ridiculous the two of you look. stepping out of a probably hundred thousand dollar car, if not more. dressed like you're going to the ballon d'or. all while walking into a quiet little family own take out spot. 
trent takes your hand again, while you fight to bunch up your dress to get over the obnoxious curve. 
he fights a smile while locking the car behind you. 
"you try getting over this mountain in heels and this long ass dress i dare you." you hiss. 
he snorts but keeps his mouth shut as you inside the familiar space. sighing in glee. 
the kind older woman who always takes your orders doesn't bat an eye at your dress, but welcomes you with a warm hug. 
“the usual?” she beams, even at this time of night. cheery as ever. 
“yes please !”
she smiles, getting to work making your order while you drum against your thigh. bad habit. 
you’re very thankful it’s as late as it is, the place is dead empty. a little safe haven. 
you reach into your purse but mr “i’ll pay for it all” stops you. 
you tsk, “come on this is my spot. i want to tip her well. let me at least have this after that fancy meal.”
“i said i would pay,” he states firmly. 
“i know, but paying here is special to me. and i want it to come from my hand. she deserves it after all the kindness she’s shown to me over the years.” you gesture to her wrapping up your boxes. 
you remember when you used to be a student low on cash, she would always fill your plate with double of everything or just give you the next size up, and extra dessert, free drink. the little things, life is all about the little things. 
he sighs, “fine fine. i won’t take this away from you. “
you smile, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. he waits for you on the side while you go up to the counter. 
she smiles at you knowingly, “finally made a move on that one huh?” 
you blush, “we both made moves and things worked out well. “
she grins, “finally. i thought it would never happen, you know. maybe i’ll get to see your kids too huh?”
you chuckle, kids with trent huh. not a bad idea, “maybe you will.” you sigh fondly. handing her the money. 
you hand a few boxes to trent and motion to the door before she catches on. but it’s a little late. 
you sneak out of there while she’s yelling at you to take your change, “keep it ! it’s all for you !!” you shout back. giggling while you and trent make your escape. 
the ride to his house is filled with laughter and you don’t ever remember being happier. 
its all giggles and shy smiles as he leads you up to his home, hand in hand while you race up the steps and make a dash for the elevator. the door man gives you too a look but doesn’t comment, yet. you know he will sooner or later but you don’t care. 
the take out boxes are split in between the two of you as you hold them snug against your chest. humming softly as the elevator opens. 
the ride up is filled with soft teasing, and more compliments. 
"im serious!" he shoves you gently, "you look, incredible." 
your face burns with enough heat to power an oven, his words do a number on you and all you want is to hear them over and over. but you don't say this. 
"you look so handsome trent." is all you find to reply back. 
a shy smile is what you get in return as the elevator opens. the walk is familiar but your feet are making it feel much longer than needed. 
he opens the door and you dont waste a second collapsing on his couch, groaning at the pressure finally being off your feet. he takes the boxes from your hands and sets them on the living room table, kicking his shoes off somewhere as he organizes them just how you like. 
"eat first then change?" he takes a seat next to you. 
you shake your head, "don't wanna ruin the dress."
"alright," he nods
you attempt to get up but your feet are swollen by the looks of it and you could cry at the though of taking another step in these damned heels. 
you reach over carefully to begin the effort of getting them of you but holy fuck is it taking much longer than needed.
"you're taking so long," he groans, scooting down to raise right ankle to rest gently in his knee, hands working slowly. 
you sigh in sweet sweet relief when the intricate lacing finally comes undone and your foot can breathe. he does the same to the left, bringing it up to rest against your right.
 your head falls back against the couch cushions, eyes closed and relaxed. it gives you a moment to really appreciate it all. to appreciate him. 
you crack your eyes open when he gives your leg a gentle tap, all done. 
you swing your feet back to the ground, scooting up closer to him. it's a beat of silence where he watches you, wait for your move. and you press gentle kisses on both cheeks, then nose, one on his forehead, and finally his lips. 
he can't keep his hands to himself at the end, a hand finds your waist, tugging you closer to him, impossibly close. the other cups your cheek gently. 
you won't part till you run out of air, panting gently against each other's skin.
"thank you." you mumble against his lips.
he hums, "anything for you. you know what."
you could reach the clouds like this, could reach the stars.
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holdmytesseract · 3 months
Text
Hunter & Prey
☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆
Loki x Y/N
Summary: On a charity event, you and Loki play a dangerous game of seduction. Who is going to cave first?
Warnings: pining? flirting? sexual tension, very suggestive smut/mild smut, dom!Loki? basically very sexy stuff
Word Count: 2,1k
a/n: Prepare some water, guys. It's going to get hot in here... 👀
Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
divider by @fictive-sl0th <3
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The whole evening had been nothing more than a game for you and Loki - and the only question was who'd cave first.
Small, secret touches when hopefully no paparazzi was looking your way. Your hand brushing his hand. A finger playing with the black buttons of his black shirt. Or a short tug on his black leather belt to pull him closer - which the god of Mischief only commented with a low chuckle, or an revengeful touch of his own... Fingertips brushing the dip of your lower back or the curve of your hips in a seemingly innocent gesture.
But it wasn't just the touching... The looks you threw each other from across the red carpet, the places you were seated at or the dance floor were borderline G-rated. You could tell that Loki was practically undressing you with his eyes. His gaze lingered on your curves, which got highlighted by the dress you wore perfectly. His piercing blue eyes telling you that he'd drag you away to a hidden corner and have his way with you - if he could. Loki was a master in hiding his thoughts in front everybody else. His desiring looks were meant for you and you only; not once failing to make your knees weak.
The problem was that you weren’t even close at hiding your lustful gazes quite as good as Loki did and therefore it didn't go unnoticed... At least by your best friend...
"Oh for God's sake, babes..." Nat's voice suddenly caused the bubble of fantasies you just swam in to burst. You blinked; head turning to face the Widow. "S-Sorry, what did you just say?" Natasha giggled. "See, that's exactly what I mean." "What?" "Oh no, babes, don't you dare to shit me and play innocent now. I know exactly what's going on in that pretty head of yours." You giggled; "And what would that be, huh?" voice dripping with fake innocence. "Taking a ride on the handsome god over there," she said blatantly; nodding at Loki. "That 'handsome god over there' is my boyfriend, so I have every right to, don't I?"
Your best friend crossed her arms over her chest. "I never said something else, but we're at a charity event, babes. If Tony, Steve - or hence even Fury gets a whiff of this, you two are fucked. Don't forget that sexy Mischief is still 'on probation'. 'Misbehaving' on a important charity event probably isn't playing into his hands. I'm just saying." Her words brought you down to earth a bit. You swallowed, "You're probably right, yeah..." and averted your eyes from Loki's - much to the god's dismay.
You tried very hard to not let your sexual attraction towards Loki get the better of you, but that was everything but easy. Especially not when it was time for him - and Thor to step on the small stage. He moved elegantly - like the prince and god he was. You didn't even have be close to him, exchange fleeting gazes or small touches... The mere look of him was enough to drive you insane this evening.
He was dressed all black for this event. Black, shiny dress shoes. Black suit trousers, which were so well tailored that they left little to imagine; held around his hips by a black leather belt. A tight, perfectly fitting black shirt was neatly tucked inside his trousers; sleeves rolled up.
His hair was tied up into a loose man bun. This hairstyle combined with the slight stubble on his chin and cheeks and the outfit he wore was a dangerous combination. Deathly.
You swallowed hard; feeling your eyes glued onto him; heart beating fast against your chest. You crossed and uncrossed your legs; trying to somehow just cope with the situation you were in.
Turned out, you couldn't.
Unbeknownst to you, oceanic blue eyes were following you...
Biting your lip and wincing at the sound of his deep velvet voice sounding through the speakers, you felt like fainting. You had to get out of here.
"Nat?" You gently elbowed your best friend, who was seated beside you. "Yes?" "I-I, uh, I'll be back in a sec." You stood up; witnessing Nat throwing you a questioning glare. "Restroom," you mouthed, before you piled out of the big ball room and stormed off to the ladies bathroom.
You took a deep breath as you stood hunched over one of the sinks; staring into the mirror in front of you. What did you get yourself into? You asked yourself. Sure, you wanted to play that game - but both, you and Loki forgot the rules.
"Fuck..."
Loki.
Sneaking off with him wasn't an option, but the evening was still young. The event just started. Meaning, you had to put yourself through this for another few hours. There was no other option. No other way out of this...
Your thundering thought got interrupted by the restroom door opening and closing. The clicking of shoes could be heard. No high heels, though. You knew how high heels sounded like... Only dress shoes clicked like that on marble floor. You looked up, head snapping down the rather large room. Toilet stalls were lining the left side, sinks the right - and in the middle... Your eyes widened.
He had a wolfish smile on his lips; nearing you like a predator its prey. "Don't tell me you've been fleeing, my love... Can't you take this little game of us any longer, hm?" Loki took another carefully calculated step towards you.
You winced; wanted nothing more than to let yourself fall into his awaiting arms. You shook your head; trying to keep it cool. "Loki, what... What are you doing here? This is... This is the ladies room! W-What if someone is coming inside?!"
The god only smirked, then casually snapped his fingers; causing the lock on the door to turn. You swallowed.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" He stepped even closer; causing you to step back. He was going to trap you. Between him and the wall.
You were fucked.
"U-Uhm, I-I-" You stammered; unable to form words - already.
Loki chuckled deeply and ran a hand over his tied up hair, before it went to his chest. You watched with horror how long fingers worked to undo the first four buttons, which resulted in you getting a delicious sneak peek of his pecs and chest hair.
"Did my presence made you speechless, darling?"
All you were able to do was staring and trying not to drool - or faint.
The closer he got, the more dangerous this situation got for you. You tried to hold on and get a grip, but when his scent wafted over to you and invaded your nostrils, you were done.
Another chuckle rumbled through the god's chest. He was enjoying this.
"I really did render you speechless."
Charred wood, musk, a hit of leather and blood oranges. Gods... You wanted to drown in his scent. In him.
You felt how your legs buckled; knees giving in underneath you.
You gasped; hadn't seen that coming. You should have.
You were already prepared to hit the harsh ground, when you felt suddenly two strong hands on your hips; keeping you from falling and pinning you against the white wall. You gasped at his touch; only noticed now how close Loki really was.
"I got you, love." He breathed into your ear and helping you to stand properly again. Once the god made sure that both your feet were touching the ground, one of his hand engulfed both your hands. You met his eyes - and for one tiny, foolish moment, you thought that he'd finally show mercy on you, but then he roughly pinned your hands against the wall above your head with his forearm, giving him the chance to lean in even closer.
"L-Loki-" "Shhh," he hushed you; lips ghosting over your neck. "Don't speak, my love... Just feel..." He started to pepper your skin with kisses. Gently, at first, before they became more demanding. More passionate. Loki nipped and even bit the sensitive area, only to sooth it with his hot tongue a second later. You whimpered; had turned putty in the god's hands already ages ago.
You were lost. Lost in his touch. Lost in his kiss. Lost in him.
When Loki was satisfied with bruising your neck, he moved to kiss your lips. "Mhhh," he moaned. "You taste delicious." You could say the same for him.
You took his bottom lip between your teeth; gently biting. Loki growled and tightened the hold he had around your hip, before diving into another kiss.
So lost, that you didn't notice at first, how Loki moved and took a step closer - until you felt his thick thigh brushing the insides of your legs - and not just his thigh... A moan threatened to fall from your lips as you felt him; legs instinctively clenching around his thigh. The only thing which prevented the skin on skin contact, were a few layers of fabric. Your flowy evening dress and his suit trousers.
Fuck...
When the hand which was still curled around your hip began to wander until it cupped your ass and pushed you further onto his thigh, reality suddenly caught up to you.
"L-Loki..." You wiggled your hands and arms; trying to get free of his grasp. "L-Loki, stop," you panted - and he immediately let go of your hands; cupping your waist instead. "W-We can't, babe." The god immediately started to pout. "Why not? I've been trying to hold myself back already the whole evening. I can't do this much longer. You're driving me insane, darling." He dipped his head to lick along the shell of your ear and bucking his hips once more, in order to prove his words.
"F-Fuck, Lokes... You're making things not exactly easier..." You couldn't help but slip your hand behind his body to give his ass a squeeze. Loki jolted; hips bucking again. "I'm making things not easier?" He quipped in a rather high pitched voice. "Darling, if you keep that up, I'm going to ruin those expensive trousers."
You moaned; unable to control it.
"You are still on probation. If Tony, Steve or Fury gets a whiff of what we're about to do, you'll be in serious trouble - and I don't want that." Honest concern was swinging within your voice. Loki sighed and reluctantly slipped his thigh from between your legs and even took a step back, but kept his hands firmly on your waist. "You... You are right. I don't want to risk this. Not now that I finally wooed the woman of my dreams."
"Okay, okay, let's say we're making it both not easier for the other." Your boyfriend smirked; hand playing with the hem of your dress. "Then why don't we just give into it, hm?" You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment; trying to keep a cool head - again.
"Babe, we can't fuck in the restroom of a fancy theatre in the middle of New York on a charity event!" Another pout. "Why not? The door is locked. Nobody can-" "Loki..." You said firmly; signalling him that this was serious.
Charmer.
You giggled; blushing. "Let's go back to the others." He nodded. "I really hope this event is over soon... Will be very hard to control myself around you." You pressed a soft kiss on his scruffy cheek; the stinging, tickling sensation stirred again something deep within you. Just image how it would feel between your le-
Goddammit control yourself, Y/N!
"Alright, let's go." He walked over to you. You stared at him; jaw clenched. "Babe... Please... Please never- I repeat, never do that in front of me again or I might reconsider my life choices and jump you right here and now. Are we clear?"
"I-I hope so, too." You adjusted your dress and hair a bit and wiping Loki's lips, in order to get rid of your lipstick, before you went to the door. "Are you coming, babe?" The god nodded absent-mindedly; his gaze directed downwards. "Yes, darling, just give me a moment. I have to..." His large hands tugged and pushed the black fabric; legs bending. "... adjust the package. Unless, people will know or might even get suspicious. We can't have that, right?" Your eyes dropped; following his hands. You just couldn't help it.
Damnit.
Another wolfish grin formed on the god's face. "Yes, ma'am." "Good."
A snap of his fingers unlocked the door again. You opened it; carefully peeking around to see if the coast was clear. It luckily was. So, you stepped out, Loki following you close behind in quiet.
Shortly before you reached the main hall again; you felt Loki's breath tickling the skin of your neck, whispering into your: "Just for your information, darling... I hope you know that you won't leave my bed for the rest of the night as soon as this is over."
A shiver rand down your spine. You smirked. "Sounds promising."
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houserautha · 2 months
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These Destined Ends
Part 3
Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: mentions of killing/death, naked concubines (man and woman), threats via penis manhandling
A/N: I have a vague idea of where I’d like the story to go because I love the fun in discovering different things when writing on a loose plan. This chapter ended up longer than I thought it would be but Feyd is just so damn fun to write😂
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You tried not to linger on the implications of your shared quarters.
Angrily you strode after Feyd-Rautha. “What is going to become of my parents?”
“I don’t care.”
You wanted to grab his arm and spin him around, force him to face you. But you were afraid of touching him again, afraid that any little contact would result in an even trade — and you did not want to confront the flicker of attraction you felt when the Harkonnen dragged his lips across your skin. A second reaction would be indicative of something more, and you were determined not to let another scenario arise to find out.
The best you could do was stomp after him. “Well, I do.”
“Nothing will happen.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I just am.”
You mull over this response. Would he tell you differently? You sensed that Feyd-Rautha tended to be brutally honest. Probably because he never had to deal with any consequences in his life. How could he, as na-Baron?
You fail to think of anything else to say and lapse into silence, trusting that he is telling the truth and your parents will be fine. Besides, you comfort yourself, the Emperor would be furious if the Harkonnens just slaughtered one of the other Noble Houses like that. There were laws in place to discourage such atrocities.
Feyd-Rautha continues his unofficial tour, winding through a complicated series of interweaving corridors without speaking. You see several servants along the way, all who keep a cautious distance from you both. You couldn't ignore their curious looks. How strange you felt among them - pale and unblemished like stones smoothed over by a river's constant force. It didn't aid in your comfort.
"Do you not know any of them?" You ask. Feyd-Rautha is anything but a pleasant conversational partner, but at least if you're talking you don't have to listen to your rampant thoughts.
"Who?"
"The servants," you reply, brow furrowing.
He grunts in a noncommittal fashion. "Why would I?"
"Because they work for you." You were on friendly terms with the staff back on Caladan and trying to befriend the Fremen employed to you on Arrakis. The natives were untrusting of you, rightfully so. But you couldn't imagine just ignoring them.
"They're disposable," Feyd-Rautha comments with a wave of his hand. A pair of servants scurry by.
You watch them turn the corner and vanish. "They're afraid of you."
"Hm."
"Am I?"
"Are you what?"
"Disposable."
He casts you a sideways look. "Everyone is disposable once their use has expired. Thus is the way of the Harkonnen."
You contemplate this, frowning. "Even you?"
A dry, brittle laugh erupts from him.
"Are you planning on killing me already, wife? Perhaps you'll adapt just fine here."
That wasn't the compliment he thought it was.
You pointedly ignore him. "Are you telling me that there's not a moment that would make you disposable like the rest of us?"
"There is," he says, seemingly unbothered by the threat of his mortality, unlike you. "My uncle has promised the Baronship to me. If I am an unfit ruler then I would be challenged. Thus is the —"
"— way of the Harkonnen," you finish.
Feyd-Rautha flashes you a smile as sharp as the blade of a dagger. "You are quicker than you look."
"But what of the Noble Houses? The Emperor?"
Feyd-Rautha lifts a shoulder. "House Harkonnen has proved powerful for many, many generations. No one dares challenge us. Nor will they," he adds thoughtfully. He pauses. "Do you fret for our children?"
You inhale sharply, swallowing, and it sticks in your throat. You cough out an unconvincing, "I'm fine!" then set to composing yourself, confident that your sanity would be doubted by anyone who happened by. What a way to be viewed by your subjects. Feyd-Rautha just stares at you in poorly veiled amusement.
"I try not to think of our children," you say after you're sure you're done coughing. Something akin to embarrassment burns you skin.
"Pity," Feyd-Rautha says. "These are our quarters."
Feyd-Rautha's quarters are much more grand than your room on Arrakis. He leads you into an antechamber with a skylight, pouring the strange light from the black sun into the space. There's a sunken level in the floor furnished with dark colored furniture — two love seats and a sofa. A handful of glowglobes float aimlessly by.
Feyd-Rautha crosses the room, forgoing the sunken level, to the other side of the antechamber. You have no choice but to follow.
You don't know what you expected from his — your — room. Perhaps a chamber of torture. But it's not the sleek, elegant display before you, a full sized bed with plush bedding and tasteful curtains covering a bank of floor-length windows. It's impeccably neat.
And, to your abject horror, features three naked figures sprawled out on various surfaces. Two women and one man.
Feyd-Rautha ignores them, even as they slink from their positions to greet him, bodies slender and completely hairless, free of any visible blemishes. You feign an interest in the ceiling. It's not that you're naive to nudity or sexuality, but the sudden exposure to it roots you in your place.
"Do you need an invitation?" Feyd-Rautha asks.
When you force your gaze from the ceiling, you find him settled casually in a chair with a low-slung back, the two women kneeling on either side of him and the man behind. You follow their hands as they wander his body.
"No. No."
Where are you supposed to go? If he believes you will worship him like the others than he's sorely mistaken. You walk to the bed, ghosting your fingers over the bedding and confirming its softness. You hate the way that you can feel him watching you, clearly amused by your discomfort; you rally your courage to meet his stare, refusing to acknowledge the naked bodies draped across him.
"Are you quite alright, wife?"
"Fine," you grit out. "I didn't realize we would have company."
"Would you like me to tell them to leave?"
A loaded question, one that you were aware would set the tone for the rest of your life with Feyd-Rautha. A challenge. You control the slight quiver in your voice, "Leave. I wish to be alone with my...husband."
The concubines hesitate, obviously waiting to hear from Feyd-Rautha. He continues to hold your gaze. "Leave."
Uncurling themselves from around him, the women and the man are all white limbs and smooth skin, a multi-limbed creature. Whether or not they are disappointed by this development, they don't reveal, simply sauntering out of the room to wherever they go when they aren't waiting naked for Feyd-Rautha. A feeling of annoyance stirs.
"There's no need to be jealous," Feyd-Rautha says as the door closes.
You bristle. "I'm not."
“Then come here, wife.” Feyd-Rautha spreads his legs, indicating his lap and his powerful thighs. You resent yourself for noticing. “If you dismiss my concubines, then you must come to me now and offer me your warmth instead.”
Another challenge. You wonder briefly if he is playing with you, testing your boundaries, but just as you refused to show weakness in the throne room, you refuse now, crossing the carpeted floor. A surge of bravery — or maybe stupidity — prompts you to wedge your knees on either side of his waist, straddling him, the skirt of your dress hitched up to ensure mobility.
The look on his face is worth the cost of the heat reigniting in the pit of your stomach. You chase it away in pursuit of the heady high you receive from asserting your dominance. He might’ve had the upper hand but you were in control now.
“Warm enough?” You ask him innocently.
“Not quite,” he replies. He’s tipped his head back to examine you, leaving a blazing trail where his gaze goes.
Brazen beyond you imagination, you work the buckle to his pants just enough to slip your hand inside and grab his cock.
That bastard. He was already hard. Not fully erect, you observed with conflicting feelings, but clearly you had your effects on him. Feyd-Rautha showed no shame or guilt about this, however. Like it was expected — normal for women he’s just met to reach into his pants.
And it probably was.
Injured hand screaming in defiance of your actions, you grab the head of his cock and twist, slightly backwards and to the side. You apply pressure, hopefully enough to hurt him, he wouldn’t dare reveal it to you anyway.
“Do not,” you hiss, “embarrass me like that ever again. I will not tolerate looking like a fool.”
Feyd-Rautha’s throat bobs. Except instead of agony he looks totally enthralled. “Or what?” He mocks. “You’ll wrap your pretty hand around my cock?”
“You won’t have a cock for anyone to wrap their hand around.”
“Is that a promise?”
You release him and climb off his lap, figuring it would be more impactful to leave him wanting then lustful. His utter indifference, his arousal, gives you pause to just who you’ve been arranged to marry.
“You disgust me,” you spit out.
Feyd-Rautha’s mouth twitches slightly. Did he really have to find everything funny?
He says, “We’ll see.”
A month passes at Giedi Prime in a disconcerting blur. To your surprise, besides the first afternoon, you hardly ever see Feyd-Rautha. Always busy with important meetings or sparring sessions. Or whatever he did in his spare time. You didn’t ask.
Ever since that day when you’d straddled his lap, you’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had said clearly that you were even after the slap but then you’d unexpectedly turned the tables — did he intend on returning the favor?
You informed him that you would sleep on the couch in the antechamber until your wedding, to which he never remarked upon. That first night you lay awake, afraid and absolutely convinced that he would try something. But he never came.
The days passed without event and your anxiety dwindled. Besides, while Feyd-Rautha was busy with na-Baron affairs, you were forced to schlep through a mountain of preparations for the wedding ceremony. You didn’t care, frankly. You chose the first sample of whatever you were offered — tablecloths, menu items, decorations — until one of the servants accompanying you threw down the sample booklet and scowled.
“This will be the most horrendous wedding in the history of the galaxy,” the servant said in exasperation. “And all of them are too afraid of your husband to say anything.”
You had raised a brow, secretly thrilled by this confrontation. At least it broke the monotony of your life here thus far.
“Do you question my taste?”
The servant glared at you. “What taste?”
A moment passed. The other servants stared in horror, undoubtedly convinced that their demise was imminent. Perhaps that was one benefit to being betrothed to the na-Baron. He wielded a certain type of power.
You busted out laughing. In fact, you laughed so hard that tears stream down your face.
“You’re right,” you said, laughter weakening into an uncontrollable giggle. “It will be a horrendous wedding, but that has nothing to do with the decorations. Will you help me?”
The servant’s name is Asha, and in her you found a companion. She chased away the other servants that day and set to work rectifying your wedding decisions, weighing in on current trends on the planet and admonishing you for your Caladan tastes. “Absolutely not,” she deadpanned when you inquired about floral bouquets.
Out of everyone on Giedi Prime — well, really just the Harkonnen fortress, as you weren’t permitted to leave — Asha became your friend. No one else bothered or cared to talk to you, and now that you had bonded over wedding preparations, you spent infinite amounts of time together strolling the halls arm-in-arm and whispering about servant gossip since you had nothing to contribute.
Asha made your miserable new life interesting.
“Are you scared?” She asks you one day, plucking at your eyebrows.
You outright refused to shave them off in order to conform to the hairless style of the Harkonnens, but regrettably agreed to a touch-up. You kept one eye on a nearby mirror just in case she got any ideas.
“Of what?”
Asha yanks at an eyebrow hair, and you cry out in surprise. “Oh, stop, you’re fine — I mean are you scared of Feyd-Rautha?”
“No. Why would I be?” You avert your eyes from her probing stare. Asha, unfortunately, is able to read your expressions better than a trained Bene Gesserit. You learned that this stemmed from the combat trainings that all young children received on this planet.
“Because,” Asha stresses. You frown when she fails to elaborate, and your friend issues a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve heard things about him, you know, in bed.”
“Oh.” You twist your hands in your lap. “What kinds of things?”
Asha grins triumphantly. “I knew you were scared!”
You laugh and shove away her hands as she playfully jabs at your sides. “I’m not scared,” you say, fending her off. “I’m just curious. Aren’t all brides?”
“Just you. We aren’t all Noble daughters with arranged marriages. We fuck —”
“I get it,” you interrupt. “Consider yourself lucky.”
You’re about to prompt her again about the things she’s heard when there’s a light rap of knuckles on the door. Asha shoots to her feet. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes — of course she’s respectful to Feyd-Rautha but not you. But you supposed it was the basis of your only friendship, so you couldn’t exactly complain.
“You’re back,” you say, standing up slowly.
Feyd-Rautha rests, hip and elbow, against the doorframe into the antechamber. He hungrily drinks you in.
“Indeed,” Feyd-Rautha replies. Last you’d heard of him he had left for an offworld obligation without saying goodbye. Something stirs in you at the sight of him after so long.
“I hope your trip was well.”
Feyd-Rautha scans the room before his gaze returns to you. “I would prefer to be here. The Baron seems determined to keep me occupied until the ceremony.”
Did you detect a trace of resentment in his words? And why would the Baron keep him from you? The heir wouldn’t exactly conceive itself; though he would have no way of knowing that you had been sleeping on the couch all this time.
“Retrieve the present I’ve brought back for my wife,” Feyd-Rautha suddenly instructs Asha. She secretly meets your eyes before dashing away.
You fold your arms over your chest. “A present? And I thought you’d forgotten I existed.”
If he picks up on your anger, he doesn’t show it. Feyd-Rautha crosses the room to you, replaces Asha in the chair across from you.
“It’s for tonight. The Baron has requested our attendance for dinner.”
You bristle slightly. “The Baron? Tonight?”
You had been exceedingly lucky to avoid the monstrous head of House since your arrival. But perhaps it was because you ran the other direction at the mention of his name, or the fact that you hadn’t strayed from your quarters.
“Yes. You needed something…acceptable to wear.”
“My clothes aren’t acceptable?”
“Yes,” he answers. “I have no doubt that my uncle has planned something magnificent for tonight. You will need to look the part.”
Your careful, fragile existence on Giedi Prime was crashing at your feet. From wiling away the hours to suddenly being thrust into the explosive political landscape that was House Harkonnen.
But no matter. Jessica had raised you for this very purpose.
“Fine,” you agreed coolly.
Both of you turn as Asha returns from her errand, a garment bag folded over her arm. She goes to deliver it to your closet but Feyd-Rautha halts her in her tracks. “I want her to open it here.”
Part 4
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love-quinn · 2 months
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WOVEN TOGETHER ━━━ remus lupin x reader
━━━ 𖥻︰ 2091 words
summary: despite your best efforts, remus lupin might just become your friend.
pairing: remus lupin x reader
tags: platonic remus lupin x reader, she/her pronouns, reader is a gryffindor the same year as the marauders, shy reader, mentions of anxiety
The common room was one of your least favourite places to be, but your dorm room was worse, so there you were. It was getting late, and you had a potions assignment due the next day, so you were sitting in a quiet corner trying to work on it. Well, trying to want to work on it. You were only just passing by the skin of your teeth, and if you failed this essay then it would bring your grade down from an Acceptable to a Poor, and that meant that you wouldn’t be able to get the NEWTS you needed. You weren’t sure what those NEWTS were, as the idea of having to do anything after finishing school filled you with fear, but you figured it probably would have something to do with potions. You sort of just picked the electives you enjoyed and then did your best.
Unfortunately, your best didn’t seem to be good enough with this essay, as you had been working on it nonstop for the past four days and you still had another 10 inches of parchment left.
“Disfigurement,” a voice came from above you. You looked up from your homework at a boy, looking bashfully at your parchment.
“Excuse me?”
He had the good graces to look embarrassed by the way you were looking up at him. “Disfigurement is one of the major side affects of using lacewing flies in the potion, a big part of the reason that it’s level three restricted by the ministry,”
Now, normally, a man standing above you and explaining something that you already knew would absolutely ruin your day, Merlin only knew it happened often enough. But normally, the men doing it didn’t look like they were talking about it out of pure interest.
His eyes got slightly dimmer as he realised your annoyance, a darkened honey colour that people wrote songs about. “Sorry, I should’ve- Just because you paused writing doesn’t mean you didn’t know what you were talking about. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You decided on after a minute. You knew who he was, of course, you didn’t spend seven years in the same grade as someone without learning their name, but you were nearly one hundred percent certain he didn’t know yours.
“I just came over for…” he gestured uselessly at the small collection of cups on the table beside you, with a metal pitcher of ice cold water that stayed full no matter how much you poured it. A group of boys in your year had tried to use it to flood the common room one time. You had a sneaking suspicion the boy in front of you had been involved, despite the fact that he never received detention for it like the others did.
“Go for it.”
He poured two glasses of water and paused, looking at you. “I really am sorry. I’ve offended you.”
“I’m not offended,” you replied honestly. “I normally would be, but I’ll allow it just this once.”
The boy cracked a smile, slightly crooked, and it evened out his whole face, as though he had been created just to smile like that. “Thank you, then.” He corrected softly. “For not being offended by my interruption.” He put the cups down gently and looked for a moment as though he might shake your hand, before thinking better of it and leaving them hanging uselessly by his side. “I’m Remus.”
“So I’ve heard,” you didn’t mean to sound pretentious. “I just mean- we share a lot of classes, so I’ve seen you around a lot.” Now it was your turn to be embarrassed.
Remus continued smiling. “No, I know. I see you all the time. You always snag the good table in the library.” He gestured to you, testing your name out experimentally on his tongue, as though afraid to get it wrong. You nodded.
You liked studying in the library because it made you feel like an actual student. Doing homework on your bed, while the more common alternative, made you feel as though you were doing it wrong somehow. As if, because you hadn’t put in the effort to go all the way to the library and bring your study materials with you that you didn’t deserve to do well on whatever it is you were working on. “Do I?” your voice sounded far away, even to yourself.
“I’ll forgive you, though,” Remus said good naturedly, noticing your change in tone. This interaction had gone on far too long for your liking. You were beginning to feel exhausted. How embarrassing.
Talking to strangers for longer than ten seconds makes my stomach do a backflip, you thought bitterly to yourself. That was why your dorm room didn’t feel as welcoming as it was perhaps meant to. The girls in there talked, like they were friends. And they were friends, it was easy to see that.
You’d been so removed when you first started at Hogwarts, when you were only eleven. So overwhelmed by the hundreds of rooms and the hundreds of students, that when your roommates stayed up all night chattering and getting to know one another, you had felt nothing inside you aside from a desire to go to sleep. It took weeks before your nerves calmed enough to even attempt to contribute to their conversations, and by the time you had realised that maybe you did want to be friends with them, they had accepted your silence.
You gave Remus an awkward smile, the polar opposite of the one he’d given you. As if your grinning was a defect, not something you were designed to do. Sometimes it felt like maybe you weren’t.
He was still standing there. How could you make him go away without explicitly telling him to? You felt nauseous, squirmy under his gaze. Why hadn’t he left yet? “That essay Slughorn gave us is a real doozy, isn’t it?”
You cracked a real, genuine smile at his word choice. You didn’t know anyone who used the word ‘doozy’ and the best part was, it seemed to be entirely unironic. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I was planning on spending the afternoon up in the library, working on it.” His hand fiddled with the hem of his button-up. “Any chance I could sit at the good table?”
You nodded almost instantly. “Yeah, no, sure. It’s all yours. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hog.”
“You’re not,” he let out a breathy laugh. “You’re jumpy, aren’t you?” You felt it, and your cheeks burned at the notion that he could tell. “If you wanted to still study at your same table, and I was also to study there, both of us in complete silence, then I don’t think that would be so bad?”
Remus could see that you wanted to say no, and he didn’t want to push it if you were clearly uninterested, but he also knew that it had been seven years of you being the only Gryffindor girl he’d never spoken to, and also being the only Gryffindor girl he’d ever felt a strong desire to speak to. The others were great, sure, Lily and Marlene had become friends to him more concretely now that Lily and James were seeing each other, and Alice had always been sweet. You, on the other hand, had been described by your roommates as sad. Not ‘pathetic’ sad, but a more deep sadness.
“She’s awfully kind,” Marlene had told him once, hushed in the back of a History Against Magic Lesson. He hadn’t remembered how your name had been brought up. “Think she just likes it quiet.”
“The table’s yours,” you offered. “It’s okay. I can just study down here, it’s warmer.”
“It’s louder, though,” Remus reasoned. “Up there there’s no… well, no guys coming over here to explain something you probably already understand.”
“I thought you said you were going to be there?” You were genuinely confused at what he was asking of you by this point, but he laughed it off. You staved off a frown.
“I always find that homework is nicest when you’ve got someone there,” he offered finally. “Even if you’re not talking, just purely sitting there.”
You didn’t see how that would help at all. You’d probably be too distracted by anyone to even get any work done. But, you realised with a start, the notion of someone wanting to spend time in your vicinity, as innocent as Remus’s intentions were, made your heart ache.
He probably just wanted to be able to sit at the good table without putting you rout, you understood that. But at the same time, if he really wanted to sit there, and he really wanted to not disrupt your routine, then you didn’t see why not, even though maintaining eye contact with him for any longer than a second felt as though you were going to combust in a caramel-irised explosion.
“You can come,” you conceded, gently, hoping as not to come off rude or too territorial about your space. Perhaps it would be better if you studied outside, or in an empty classroom. That way you weren’t getting in his way.
“Excellent,” he was talking too loud, and he could tell that by the way you shrank back in your seat.  “Maybe I can finally get my transfiguration grade up, Merlin knows you’re doing well in that class.”
Why would he say that? That made him come across as a stalker who knew all your grades. He hoped you didn’t think that implied you did need help in potions. Your reactions weren’t giving him much, and it was making him nervous. He definitely shouldn’t have come over here, but he had been scrambling for something to say, and now he had to take water over despite the fact that no one had asked for water.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” You closed your textbook so gently it didn’t even made a paper noise as the cover closed. “But if you really do need help, then I might be able to.” You offered him one final smile, cheeks tinged with a visible blush.
You hoped he couldn’t see how dizzy you were getting. You wanted to go sleep and pretend this was all a dream so you could go back to ignoring Remus’s existence like he could go back to ignoring yours.
Unfortunately for you, though, he’d found your little hidey-hole study space that you occupied yesterday, coming in to tease you light heartedly about abandoning him for transfiguration. You didn’t not want to talk to Remus, it was nothing about him. He’d been nothing but sweet and funny in the very limited interactions you’d shared, you were the issue.
“Should’ve known you’d ditch me,” he’d said with a sigh as he sat down, opening his textbook up. You found you didn’t mind his being there as long as you weren’t expected to contribute much to the conversation.
“Thought it would be obvious.” You’d attempted to match his airiness in your tone. It came out strangled.
He sighed gently. “I wanted to pretend it wasn’t so, sweetheart. I thought you and me had something special. I told you about disfigurement in potions and you tell me about disfigurement in transfiguration.”
He’d been attempting to do the spell for about an hour, trying to turn a ball of yarn into a scarf. It was a simple spell that’d normally be of no issue to him, but he just couldn’t get it this time.
After nearly forty minutes of mumbling all but silently to himself so as not to disturb you, you had enough. You reached over and, so delicately he’d thought at first it was simply a breeze, uttered the spell while controlling his hand movements. A long, thickly knitted navy scarf burst from the ball of wool, landing pooled by his crossed legs. You looked up at him, expecting to be reprimanded for the touching, knowing you would have done exactly the same.
“You’re not real,” he said after a moment. Sometimes you felt that way too. “We’re officially studying together every time, now.” He grinned to himself, picking up the scarf and wrapping it securely around your neck multiple times, tucking the ends in to your jumper. It was soft. “Every single time, you little wonder.” You maybe didn’t mind as much this time as you had when he’d last suggested it. Your smile was almost hidden behind the mass of fabric you’d just helped him conjure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see it.
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bg-brainrot · 3 months
Text
Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity (Astarion x GN!Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Rating: Teen
Summary: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn.
Tags: Astarion POV - alternating w/Rogue!Tav, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecurities
A/N: based on a request from a kind anon on Tumblr– "Would you ever consider writing a one-shot where Tav tries to propose to Astarion but keeps failing multiple times. But Tav doesn’t give up and raises the stakes higher and higher. Astarion will completely remain oblivious because he still has some self esteem issues (why would anyone want to marry him?) and is really confused why Tav is acting nervous around him."
I ended up taking it in a slightly different direction (based on the man’s self esteem issues as you pointed out, anon). Set an undetermined amount of years post BG3, post saving Karlach from Zariel, post-Lae’zel finishing the githyanki uprising so the gang's all here. I hope the kind anon still enjoys it!
Word count: ~5.6k
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Astarion first has an inkling that something is the matter when you sneak away from him.
Odd, he thinks, watching your retreating back. Usually they invite me along for this sort of skulking about.
But he understands, better than most, what a bit of privacy could afford someone who hasn’t had any in so long. So he watches you leave, pretending all the while that he hasn’t noticed a thing. Best not embarrass them, of course.
He brushes off the incident as an anomaly– after all, you continue to be your usual self upon your return. Neither of you speak of your absence, and you seem rather pleased with yourself, so he is pleased for you.
The next time he notices something is off he grows a tad more worried.
This time you don’t disappear, but you do spend a concerning amount of time staring at his hands, expression pensive.
“Darling,” he starts. He quickly tucks his hands under the Elfsong table that you both sit at and leans forward. “What are you doing?”
You blanch at the question– an uncharacteristic reaction to be sure. “Oh,” you sound startled, as if you’ve been caught doing something quite naughty. “Nothing at all. Just wondering if you’d done anything new with your nails? They look… nice.”
It’s a lie, that much is clear to Astarion. But it’s not typical that you lie so poorly. And why should you lie? No matter, you look flustered and gods does he love it when you look flustered– it happens so rarely that he feels the need to truly relish it. “Don’t they?” he asks, flourishing his hands in front of you now. “How did you know? I dipped them in an essence of ooze to thoroughly moisturize them.”
“Really?” Your bewilderment almost brings a laugh out of him.
“Gods no, my dear,” he says, reaching out from under the table and for your hands. “You seem quite out of sorts. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you dismiss, staunchly avoiding eye contact with him.
Odd, he thinks again. Where is their usual daring now?
He’s forced to dismiss the thought as you flag down a waitress, ordering yourselves another bottle of wine.
Astarion becomes genuinely concerned when you return home late one night.
The two of you have grown comfortable together in your house, just on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, in a cozy corner of Rivington. The location allows you to continue your work with the guild, gives him plentiful access to any criminals that needed exsanguinating, and your former companions are never far.
It does mean that you will sometimes stay late in the city, working well into the sunlight hours– but you also know to send him a message on the days you stay out late. Otherwise your poor, beautiful vampire will waste away in worry.
“Where in the nine hells are they?” Astarion curses aloud on this particular dawning day. He’d tried sending a message to you, only to receive nothing back. He’d sent another to Shadowheart, again to silence. He considers trying someone less responsible like Karlach, when you finally burst through the front door.
“Oh! Astarion,” you say, surprise plain on your face. As if he wouldn’t be here, in your shared home no less, waiting for your arrival. “What are you still doing up?”
He watches you silently for a moment as you tuck something behind your back, straighten out uncomfortably. Then, with all of the annoyance he can muster, he rolls his eyes at you. “It’s lovely to see you too, my dear. It’s not as if I was worrying my gorgeous head off at the thought of you dead in some rank Baldurian gutter.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, shuffling around the room in a rather suspicious manner. “I lost track of time. I figured you would go to bed without me.”
Astarion can’t remember the last time he went to bed without at least knowing where you were. Even if he could, he suspects he really would rather not. “Darling, you know I need my warm-blooded lover by my side to enter my reverie. Besides, what could have possibly taken you so long?”
You hesitate, and something tugs at Astarion’s insides. He feels a sudden sense of fear, a dread that he may regret asking you this question. 
What if you’re upset at him, and this was your way to maintain space? What if you’ve finally, rationally taken a look at your situation and determined that no, you’d really rather not love a monster like himself? Or worse, what if you’d found someone else, someone who could bask in the daylight alongside you? Gods, the idea sends his undead heart plummeting.
Just as you’re about to open your mouth to answer, he rescinds his question, “Nevermind. I don’t want to know. I merely wanted to make sure you were alive. You’re looking as sprightly as ever, so I shall head to bed.”
He doesn’t wait for your response, heading to bed in a dramatic swirl and even more sensational thoughts. 
He’s right, he knows it to his core. You’ve found someone else, someone who can give you the life he never could. More than anything he wishes he had the courage to confront you, especially as all of your odd behavior clicks into place.
They snuck off to find a lover.
They were staring at my hands in the hopes that they were someone else’s.
They stayed out late to relish in another’s company.
They’re aloof because they’re leaving me and it’s all a matter of time.
It’s as plain as day. How could he have been so very, very blind?
__
You had concocted a nice, simple plan.
It involved a ring, a smattering of your closest friends, and a particularly prickly vampire. Ideally, the plan ended with the vampire agreeing to marry you.
Gods. The idea thrills you as much as it scares you: you are actually going to propose to Astarion.
After years together, you and Astarion are practically already married. This is merely a formality in your mind. But of course, for a man like Astarion, it's a formality that means only the utmost effort must be put in.
But, as it always goes in your life, your nice, simple fell apart.
The problem you're finding is that, after weeks of preparation and secretive planning, the man is being oddly distant. Distant and dismissive. It's almost as if he knows something is afoot, and he's utterly determined to make sure it doesn't happen.
Five times now he has thwarted your attempts at a proposal.
"Astarion," you had started the first time. "Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tonight?”
The look he’d given you was equal parts wary and panicked. So much so that you thought maybe you’d misspoken. But his response was measured enough. “No, thank you, darling. I’m afraid I’m quite spent today.” He gave you a yawn to illustrate his point, and you dropped the subject for the night.
You had had to send a message to Shadowheart to call off the trail of poisonous flowers that your friends were laying out for your stroll.
The next time, you had tried being a bit more casual in your attempt.
“Would you enjoy a day at the spa, Astarion?”
Again, he gave you a look that confused you. Frightened face, hackles raised– his only response was, “Why, darling, do I look that ghastly to you?”
“You know that’s not what I–”
“No matter,” he’d waved you off. “I am afraid I’m busy today.”
You’d sent a message to Karlach, telling her that the reservation of Baldur’s Gate’s spa was no longer needed.
The third time, you’d called in some more magical help.
“Astarion, what do you say to a moonlit picnic atop the roof of the Elfsong? We haven’t had one in a while.”
Appalled– utterly and truly aghast is the only way to describe the face he’d made. The words that followed didn't make you feel better either. “And why would we do that again after such a long while?”
Your stomach had roiled, worry settling in at his tone. “I thought it would be a chance to reminisce together.” Your tone stayed light, your smile just as friendly.
“It’s far too cold to bother with reminiscing,” he’d said, glowering at you. Looking at the hard set of his jaw, this is when you’d begun to worry that you’d done something to upset him.
“Is everything alright?” you’d asked, reaching out for his arm.
“It’s fine,” he’d replied, curtly, retreating from your grasp. “I just don’t want to be colder than I already am.”
You’d sent a message to Gale, instructing him to call off the magical skywriting over the Elfsong.
For your fourth attempt, you knew you needed someone with a slightly more forceful personality– and to perhaps lean a little less romantic.
“Astarion,” you’d begun, inflecting your tone with just the right amount of panic. “Lae’zel’s found a flock of mephits along the beach of Wyrm’s Crossing. She needs our help.”
“Mephits?” he’d asked, looking at you cautiously. “In Wyrm’s Crossing?”
“Yes,” you’d replied, nodding hurriedly. “We need to go now.”
He’d clicked his tongue at you and shaken his head. “As if Lae’zel couldn’t crush them all with a single swing. Seems to me like she’s grown lazy after all of her heroics.”
“Astarion,” you’d chided. “You know she will incredibly cross at us if she finds out you declined to help.”
“I’ll survive,” he’d said, returning to the book on his lap, hands turning paler than usual in a tense vice grip. “Probably.”
After, you’d sent a message to Lae’zel, instructing her to do as she pleased with the stash of fireworks on the beach.
The fifth time you’d grown genuinely, truly worried that something was wrong with Astarion because, by the gods, the man had refused to commit crime with you.
After so many failed attempts, you’d figured that you needed to go back to the roots of your relationship– to a simpler time when petty theft gave you some time alone together.
“I heard a rumor through the guild,” you’d said offhandedly over dinner. “A newly minted noble in the Upper City has quite the horde of wealth and very little security. What do you say that we pay them a visit, perhaps ‘relieve’ them of some of their wealth?”
Astarion had faltered, clearly tempted by your offer. But after nearly two weeks of avoiding going anywhere with you, he didn’t outright agree either. “And why would you need me for this particular job?”
The question had taken you aback. You’d never needed a reason to invite him along for crime of all things. It made you near certain that he knew what you were up to and that something about it was distasteful to him. Sweet hells, it made you nervous. “I, erm… well, I could use an extra pair of hands to carry it all, I suppose?”
“I could lend you my pack then,” he’d said, narrowing his eyes at you.
Why is he trying to avoid me? Have his feelings changed? you’d thought in fear. Aloud, you’d only doubled down. “Well, the company might be nice. And you know that your lockpicking is, somehow, better than mine.”
“I thought you said security was sparse,” he’d countered.
“Sparse doesn’t mean nonexistent.”
“Not much of a challenge then, is it?”
You had wanted to scream into the astral plane. Wanted to flip the table over his pretty pale face. Wanted to tell him, ‘You know what, I didn’t want to marry such a stubborn vampire anyway!’ – but you did none of those things. Because you love this man and, even when he’s being difficult, you do want to marry him.
So you had gritted your teeth and said, “Very well then. I shall borrow your pack.”
You’d sent a message to Wyll later to call off his father’s help with the upper city guards.
For your sixth attempt, you decide you first need to reconvene with your council– also known as your former companions. 
When you’d first met with them at the start of this whole ordeal, you’d snuck away from Astarion. It made you feel a bit guilty, sneaking around, hiding things from him, but the entire proposal was meant to be a fun surprise– one you are starting to suspect is a misguided effort. 
You profess as much aloud now that you’re meeting up with the five of them again, seated around the table in Jaheira’s kitchen. “Maybe there is no sixth attempt. Maybe I’ve overestimated the love between us.”
“Don’t say that,” Wyll says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly in reassurance. “Your love is strong. And together we will find a way to make this proposal work.”
You smile up at the man, one always so willing to believe in the power of a good love story. You’re almost sorry to be disappointing him– and the smut peddlers. Really, you’re sorry to be disappointing all of your friends. Each of your companions had been eager to help you in your endeavor, in their own ways, of course.
Gale had congratulated you prematurely at first, misunderstanding your Sending spell. But when you’d clarified, asked him for his help, he’d only been incredibly enthused, arriving the very next day, offering all manner of suggestions.
Karlach, for her part, was only ever excited, practically bouncing off the walls that two of her best mates may potentially tie the knot. At the low, low price of allowing her to be your person of honor, she was entirely at your disposal.
Lae’zel had been confused initially. In her mind, you were already committed to a life together. What was the purpose of this… proposal? Of marriage? But when you’d explained to her a bit, she’d been curious– and excited at the potential of catching Astarion off guard.
Shadowheart had seemed surprised when you’d asked. You weren’t already married? Alas, she’d gotten the plot of one of the many bawdy novels about you confused with real life. No matter, she was happy to help.
And, well, Wyll– when he returned from Avernus he’d been disappointed that you weren’t at the very least engaged yet. It was no shock or awe to him when you visited him for help. In fact, he had only given you a wry smile and said, “I knew you would be the one to cave.”
As for Jaheira, well, she was allowing you to use her house as a headquarters, but had proclaimed early, “Invite me to the wedding and I shall be there, but until then– well, this is for you lot to figure out.”
And gods were you having trouble figuring it out.
“I don’t know, Wyll. I’m worried Astarion may never revert back to normal at this rate,” you say, shaking your head.
“Was he ever normal?” Shadowheart asks with a soft snort. “Besides, he can be awfully dense at times, you may just need to ask him outright.”
“There is not a single realm in which Astarion says yes to a simple proposal,” you say, brows furrowing. “You know he’d want something flashy.”
Gale raises a finger sagely before countering, “Well, my friend, sometimes what we want and what we need are two different things. I’m inclined to agree that you may just need to pop the question.”
“What if…” you trail off, your worries from the past weeks bogging down your thoughts. Somehow, despite everything you’ve been through, this seems to be your toughest challenge yet. “Do you think he knows what I’m doing and is simply too afraid to reject me?” you ask the group, turning to each of them with pleading eyes. You’re honestly not sure you can take his rejection, especially after the last five rebuffs.
“Not a chance in the hells,” Karlach answers. “I think he’s being a right idiot, actually. And if he knew what was happening, he may even say yes before you can so much as get the question out.”
“Really?” Your mood lightens a bit, her harsh words slashing through the hardened doubts that have settled over your heart. 
“Is it any surprise to us that Astarion is incapable of seeing the truth before him?” Lae’zel says, rolling her eyes. “Such sharp skills, yet completely dull in the face of our efforts.”
“Again, we may just need a softer touch,” Shadowheart suggests, tilting her head at you.
You’re not sure what a softer touch might be, and, from the silence that follows, neither are any of your companions.
Your resident wizard is the first to break the silence. “I could always create a simulacra–”
“Gale,” Wyll interjects, politely. “I’m afraid I don’t think that’s much softer.”
“Right,” Gale says, leaning back in his seat.
Another long moment of silence and you’re truly starting to feel defeated. You hang your head a bit, thoughts filled with the image of a certain beautiful, pale elf’s mouth curling at you in distaste, forming a pronounced ‘no.’
“Soldier,” Karlach starts. You look up to see her smirking at you. “If he won’t willingly join you anywhere. I think we both know what you need to do.”
They are going to sink the final nail in the metaphorical coffin.
For nearly two weeks now, Astarion has successfully avoided his lover’s attempts to get together in a public space– likely what they saw was the best, most civil way to dispose of him. But, foolish as it is to cling to something like a withered love, Astarion doesn’t want this relationship to end.
Perhaps, if I can do this for long enough, they will change their mind, he thinks. Gods, that sounds pathetic, even for him.
Astarion was running out of excuses, and, worse yet, running out of willpower. What is the use in fighting the inevitable? he thinks, as he walks down the streets of Baldur’s Gate. It’s a moonlit night, and he’s on the prowl for a criminal to bite– he needs something, anything to distract him from his woes.
He turns the corner, on high alert.
Then again, a more selfish part of him counters. Why shouldn't you fight for your love? They were the first good thing to ever happen to you in this damned world.
That’s when he spots them– the-first-good-thing-to-ever-happen-to-him is hiding behind a bush directly before him, facing another alleyway. There are very few reasons that they would be out at this time of night, in the middle of this particular street of Baldur’s Gate. While they could be on a mission for the guild, he had last seen them at home, reading by the fire. It’s clear that they followed him, are waiting to ambush him.
Is this it? he thinks, eyes narrowing. His chest hurts, more than ought to be possible given his lack of beating heart. Is this how desperate they are to be rid of me? May as well go out with flair, I suppose…
Astarion sneaks forward, careful to remain outside of your field of view. He settles behind you in the darkness of the bush, watching you as you look out for him. Despite the ache in his heart, the clenching of his stomach, he can’t help but think of how lovely you look under the moonlight– of how lucky he has been to have had you.
If this truly is it, he thinks. I can’t wallow or cry. I shall hold my head high and consider myself fortunate to have met them. To have loved them. At least, he hopes he’s capable of such a performance. Because right now, quietly crouched next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to beg you to reconsider.
But no. He refuses to look pathetic– not after the life he has lived.
So, after waiting with you for a few minutes, he leans forward into your personal space and asks, “Darling, what are you doing?”
Astarion is ready for your instincts to kick in, so when your knife is drawn in a flash and you’re lunging for him, he’s easily dodging backward, holding his hands up in peace. “Now, now darling, I thought we were past the knives at throats.”
“Astarion?” you ask, startled. “Sweet hells, you haven’t snuck up on me like that in years.”
“Yes, well,” he says, avoiding your eyes now. He’s surprised by how much gazing into them has weakened his composure already. “You also haven’t looked so utterly distracted by your own thoughts in years either.”
“What are you doing here?” you ask, ignoring his words. “I thought…”
Yes, dear, what did you think? he wants to ask, to catch you in the act with a cruel moment of revelation, to hurt you as much as you’re about to hurt him. But when he brings his eyes back to yours, he knows he can’t do that. While he’s still capable of maiming, killing, all manner of atrocities– he cannot hurt you. So he only says, “I was out hunting and I saw you hiding in a bush. What are you doing here?”
“I–” you falter, seemingly torn. Perhaps you’re having second thoughts. Perhaps this is his chance to keep you from breaking his cold, crumbling heart.
“Do you need assistance, dear?” he asks, ready and willing to show how much he would do for you. Anything, honestly, if it means you’ll stay by his side.
“Gods, I keep mucking this all up,” you mutter, head hanging in uncharacteristic defeat. “Maybe Shadowheart was right.”
What did that damned cleric do now? Is she the one you’re leaving him for? He’s about to make a reflexive, snide comment about her veritable barnyard of animals, but stops when he sees you sheath your blade. When you wipe a hand over your face in frustration.
Oh. You’re miserable. You wouldn’t look like this normally. You would never be this nervous, this stressed to see him– not unless his very presence had turned toxic. “I should go, shouldn’t I?” he asks, throat tight.
“No!” you say, reaching out a hand to keep him from leaving. Your grip is tight, painful in its panic, but he doesn’t complain. How could he when you look like this? 
More than anything, he wants this worry that lines your face to fade, the jittery movement of your hands to abate. So maybe it’s up to him to spark the beginning of the end… “Did you… have something you wanted to tell me?” he asks, swallowing down the fear that threatens to overwhelm him.
“I…” you gulp, bringing your second hand to join the first, loosening your grip. You raise your head, and he sees the tumult in your gaze. At the very least, you must care about him somewhat to stress yourself this much. “Astarion, please don’t be upset.”
How could he not? But, somehow, he manages a sad smile at you anyway. “As if I could ever be upset with you, my love.”
Then you drop to a knee in front of him.
– 
“Astarion,” you say, voice shaking a bit with nerves. “I had wanted this to be something lovely. Something meaningful. But… I guess you love ruining plans, don’t you?”
“What,” he breathes out, confusion plain on his face. His red eyes dart between yours, as if trying to process a sudden, large shift. You suppose it would be a shift in your relationship, even if you were practically married already. If he even decided to say yes.
You release his arm with one hand, reaching into your side pouch for the small square box that’s waiting for you. Fingers less dexterous than usual, you fumble over clutching it, opening it single handedly. You’re not used to looking this foolish, and you can feel a heat over your cheeks, an anxious shake to your movements.
But before too long the box is open, a shining platinum band resting inside.
It looks like everything you’d hoped for in the moment– its inlaid red rubies catch the moonlight just beautifully. You’d spent weeks agonizing, wondering if you had picked the right one, imagining what it might look like were it to be placed on his perfect pale finger. Here and now, with this man standing before you, you know it would look exquisite.
“Astarion,” you start again, courage returning to you with that knowledge, some of the words you’d prepared coming back to your mind. “These past years together have been the best years of my life. You’re my best friend, my dual blade, and I love you more than I can even say. I don’t know what our future holds, but I would consider myself lucky to walk towards it with you at my side. So…” You pull the ring from the box, holding it up to the man you love with a smile. “Would you, Astarion Ancunín, do me the honor of marrying me?”
Astarion Ancunín, despite years of quick quips and sultry words, seems to be frozen in place, unable to speak.
You’re used to these moments, when he needs to process, but you’re not used to them when you’re on one knee, waiting for a response. “Astarion?” you hazard.
“You’re…” he says, face slack, mouth barely moving. “You’re proposing to me?”
It’s not a no, but it’s certainly not the reaction you’d be hoping for. “Erm, yes. Is that… distasteful to you?” You can feel your hand recoil somewhat, your smile slip.
His expression remains blank, lips slightly agape as he continues to take in the scene before him. “You– you don’t have a new lover? You’re not planning to leave me?”
“What?” Now it’s your turn to be flabbergasted. “Astarion, what are you talking about?”
The sigh that leaves him then could collapse a small house. “Sweet hells,” he says, face and body relaxing. “I thought… I thought that you were acting odd, like– like–”
“Like I was trying to surprise you with the magnificent proposal you deserve?” you respond, suddenly understanding his behavior and growing a smidge annoyed. “Like I didn’t want to propose to you behind some damned bushes?”
Astarion looks around, as if just now realizing where you are, what is happening. “Yes, now that you mention it, like that.”
You want to be upset, but then the man above you laughs. It’s light, breathy, and utterly relieved. “You were really worried, weren’t you?”
“Oh my sweet love, I was about ready to jump into an Oubliette,” he says, shaking his head ruefully.
“You thought I would leave you, just like that?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern. Maybe you should have just proposed in your living room.
“I wouldn’t blame you,” he says, looking down at you with a tinge of sadness in his smile. “I doubt that this was the life you were looking for, darling. As a matter of fact, are you… sure about this?” He eyes the ring in your hand, all but forgotten in his confusion.
You proffer it again, raising your hand a bit higher this time. “The only life I’m looking for is the one with you in it, Astarion. I am quite sure.”
His scarlet eyes dart between yours questioningly, and you merely stare back, staunch in your words and intent. “Even if I’m a fool that forced your hand– left you kneeling in the dirt?”
“We’ve done worse things on dirt, Astarion,” you say, smiling widening at the memory of the first time he’d told you he loved you. “If you’d like me to get out of the dirt though, you could answer my question: Would you marry me?”
__
Once more, he looks between your eyes, this time his are wide, open– daring to believe that his darkest fears are just that. Fears. Ones that you would vanquish without a second thought. How could he have been so blind to that. Moisture pools at the corner of his eyes at the realization.
So he drops to his knees, reaching for your face with his hands. In a single movement, he’s pulled you toward him, captured your lips with his with an undeniable longing. A longing to hold you in his hands for as long as he is able. A longing to taste your lips on his, each and every day. A longing to never be without you, to be yours until death do you part.
You respond to his kiss in kind, lips pressing against him with your own pent up longing. He distantly hears the ring’s box fall to the floor, feels your hand brush past his ear to clutch his hair. You kiss him like he’s the answer to every question you’ve ever had and he feels a small tear run down his face as his eyes squeeze tightly shut.
Gods he would never tire of kissing you.
I ought to respond, he thinks in the back of his head, as he moves his lips against yours.
Is this not response enough? he argues, not wanting to break apart from you, for even a moment.
No, it wouldn’t do to have any confusion, not after the past two weeks.
So, before he can forget himself, he pulls back from you, far enough to look into your eyes. “That was a ‘yes’ in case that wasn’t evident.”
You laugh, short and breathless. “Oh good,” you say, leaning back further and bringing up the ring between you. “Then may I?”
Astarion removes his left hand from your face, holds it out to you with a large, gleeful smile. “You may.”
You slip the ring onto his finger. It fits well, matches his eyes, looks positively sumptuous– as always, you know him too well. “It’s stunning,” he says, angling it one way then another.
“I’m glad you like it,” you say, smiling at the sight. “And that you didn’t catch me when I tried to sneak it past you.”
The vampire laughs, shaking his head free of his own silly thoughts. “I smashed your plans into tiny little pieces, didn’t I?”
You don’t say yes, but the look on your face is evidence enough. “I’ll tell you all about what you missed out on later. For now, we should, erm, go get our friends.”
“Go get our friends?” he asks, wondering what in the hells they have to do with all of this.
“Yes,” you say, planting a kiss on his hand before moving to get up. “They’re all in place for another one of these ill fated plans.”
“Ah,” he says, following you up. Then, realizing what you’ve said, he looks at you with concern. “Just what were you in this bush for?”
To your credit, you look abashed. But your words do nothing to lessen his concern. “Seeing as you were refusing to come with me, well, anywhere, we had to pivot our strategy.”
“Darling,” he starts, his tone a deceptive sweetness. “Whatever does that mean?”
“It was Karlach’s plan,” you say, as a means of explanation.
“Oh good. I’m sure whatever it was was perfectly sane then.”
Scratching at the back of your neck, you finally admit the plan, “I was going to give them a signal when you passed. Gale was going to make an illusory double of me getting kidnapped by the rest of them in disguise, then hopefully you would take chase to go save me, they would lose you just as you got to the Elfsong where I would be waiting…”
Astarion looks at you sharply, his mouth a disapproving line. “Really?”
“In retrospect, I can see the flaws in the plan,” you say, palms open. “But in my defense, I was getting desperate. Either way, we ought to go get them. Karlach seemed just about ready to explode from hiding that long.”
“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “This is what we get for having such imbeciles for friends.”
“Funny,” you start, holding out a hand to him. “They said the same about you.”
He takes your hand with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of your fingers twining with his. “It’s a shame you had to resort to them for help.”
“I really needed it. You know, I have killed more people than I can count, but you have been my most challenging mark by far,” you say, dramatically as you begin to walk down the alleyway.
“Worse than the giant, world-ending brain?”
“Oh yes.”
The two of you walk in silence for a few steps before Astarion feels compelled to say one last thing before reaching your friends. “Darling, I truly am sorry I ruined all of your plans, but I must ask: Please don’t try to surprise me like this again.”
The expression on your face deflates a little, and you say, “I thought you would like something grand?”
He brings your hand up to his lips for a soft, reassuring peck. “Normally, yes. But, I love you so very much. I’m afraid it clouds my usually impeccable judgment.”
You don’t comment on his judgment, instead focusing on his proclamation of love. “I love you too. So, hopefully, there isn’t a second proposal.”
“One can only hope,” Astarion says with a laugh. “And, if there is, perhaps it’s my turn to do the proposing?”
“Love, if you surprise me, I may kill you,” you say, plainly.
“A risk I’ve always been willing to take, my dear,” the man replies, pulling on your hand. “Now, come. I think I can spot Wyll’s peeking eye from here.”
Hand-in-hand, the two of you walk toward your waiting friends, ready to tell them the good news.
It wasn’t the grand proposal you had envisioned. Nor was it even a particularly romantic one. But, somehow, it was still perfect, still loving, still the beautiful new beginning to the rest of your lives together.
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