#Blushing roses and ivory lace you will find me in this place

[shadeysprings]

Anything for You

— Loki x F!Reader x Vision

Summary: Your Valentine's Day date with your boyfriend is interrupted by his childhood best friend.

Warnings: This is a dark fic. Noncon, smut—spit roasting, oral (m receiving), coercion, betrayal & allusions to sex trafficking. There may be more that I missed.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Let's break some hearts. Italics are flashbacks and thoughts. Shoutout to my momo, @mochie85, for being a rockstar beta. This fic is part of my sleepover gift to y'all.

Your feedback is highly appreciated and encouraged. Reblogs would be really amazing. Enjoy! ❤️

Heart full and elated, you smile while staring out the window of Loki’s car as he drives down the highway. The lights from the lamp posts are the only one that shines into the dark vehicle, soft jazz music playing in the background accompanied by your boyfriend’s soft humming while he taps against the leather covering of the wheel. 

Your eyes drift to the rearview mirror and the smile on your face only grows further, the bouquet of red roses sitting idly in the backseat, a reminder of how the evening began that only cruised through into something bigger than what you’ve expected. 

You give a smile of thanks at the maitre d’ when he shows you to the private booth. A surprised gasp leaves your lips upon seeing Loki standing to greet you, the bouquet of roses nestled in his arms a bright contrast and a striking compliment to the black suit he dons.

He meets you halfway, a chaste kiss pressed to your cheek, one you respond with a blush that scatters from your neck up to your face. “You look beautiful, darling.” He breathes and the compliment is enough to take your breath away.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks, turning your head to face him. 

His eyes are still glued to the road while his other hand finds purchase of your thigh, deft fingers skimming over the exposed skin, sending a tingling sensation to your core. 

“Tonight was beautiful, Loki.” You smile, taking his hand in yours and lacing your fingers together. “I could never have imagined an evening as perfect as this. Thank you.”

“The quartet wasn’t too much?” He chuckles at his question and you sense the nervousness rolling through him with how his fingers tense.

Lifting his hand to your lips, you press a light kiss over his knuckles, the gesture seemingly calming him as he lets out a breath and glances at you before turning his focus once more back on the road. 

You look curiously at the door when it opens on its own accord, your breath catching in your throat when a string quartet files into the private dining space, the soft sounds of violins echoing throughout the room.

“Can I have this dance?” Loki asks and you stare at him dumbly when he holds out his hand to you from across the table.

“I—I don’t know how—”

“Don’t worry.” He says with a smile, standing from his seat and taking your hand in his. “I’ll lead and you follow.” Giving your hand a gentle tug, you slip the napkin off your lap and follow him toward the open space by the side of your table. His hand slips around your waist while keeping his grip on the other. “Slow steps,” He instructs and you obey. 

You keep your head to the ground, watching your feet, not wanting to step on his toes and ruin the moment. But you then feel your hand move, Loki tipping your chin up for you to face him, emerald eyes shining as he keeps them locked on yours. 

“Eyes on me, darling.” He coos and you smile shyly up at him. “I’m here.”

The ivory building of his condo comes to view and you feel a small wave of nervousness wash over you. 

It’s not like you haven’t been over to his place before. You’ve stayed a couple of nights when it’s too late to grab a cab and you didn’t want to burden Loki with driving you home. If anything, the place is something familiar, the living space you’re able to navigate even with your eyes closed. 

But for some reason, you feel this night to be different than the previous ones. With how magical it has been, your palms begin feeling clammy as your thoughts drift to the conversation you had with Carla before leaving to meet Loki at the restaurant. 

“What if we have sex and I suddenly tell him that I love him?”

“Okay—TMI.” She visibly cringes before asking, “But, do you?” 

You sigh before turning back to the mirror and nodding in response. 

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” You argue, feeling your cheeks heat up from the sudden surge of emotions. “What if I tell him that I love him and I scare him off? Or worse, he laughs at me.”

“Girl, he’s been showering you gifts left and right. He’s been hogging you for the last five months that you don’t even know where we put the pots and pans anymore.” Carla explains a matter of factly and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “How do we know for sure that he’s not the one afraid of blurting out that he loves you? That he’s not worrying he’ll scare you away if he told you how he felt?”

“I—”

“You don’t and we will never know unless you take that leap.” She stands from your bed and walks towards you, resting your hands above hers when she wraps her arms around your waist from behind. “If he doesn’t feel the same way, I have tequila you can drown in and a knife you can use to slash his tires.”

That makes you laugh. 

“But if he does, I have tequila to celebrate and a knife I can use to threaten him if he hurts you.”

You’re breathless as Loki pins you against the elevator wall, his lips devouring yours while his hand runs up the expanse of your thigh, the fabric of your dress riding up along with his movement. You gasp in his mouth when he digs his fingers into the curve of your ass, feeling your core flicker to life and your cunt slickening, dampening your panties. 

“Loki—” You mumble his name and tilt your head back when he reaches from behind you, his fingers brushing along your clothed cunt and pressing down on your clit. 

“You’re already so wet for me, darling.” He drones against your lips and your eyes flutter close when he captures them with his once more. 

The ding of the elevator signals your arrival and you’re left panting when Loki withdraws his hold from you, a chuckle of amusement leaving his lips at the sight of you left wanting. A blush forms on your face, embarrassment looming over you that you scurry out of the elevator, leaving him to follow, to hide the shame bubbling in your chest. 

“Don’t worry, darling.” His voice comes close and you stop in your tracks when you feel his arms wrap around your frame, mewling as his soft lips press down on the column of your neck. “I want you just as much as you want me.” You feel his desire against the small of your back, feeling a sense of relief that it’s not just you fueled with lust but also the man you call your own. 

His door comes to view and you wait for him to enter the security code before pushing down the brass handle. 

All at once, your confidence blooms anew and you grab onto Loki’s hand to pull him through the threshold. But you stop in your tracks when you see a blond man standing by the couch, a glass of bourbon clasped in his hand and a smile of mirth playing on his lips that quickly morphs into a smirk. 

“Victor,” Loki calls from behind you, your shyness coming forth at the unexpected visitor. “You’re still here.”

“Yes, I wanted to wait for you to discuss some important matters.” The man—Victor—explains, taking a sip of his drink before nursing the glass against his chest. “But it seems I may have interrupted your evening.”

“Darling,” Loki’s hand rests on the small of your back, taking small and measured steps as he guides your forward to meet his guest. “This is my best friend since childhood, Victor Shade.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” Victor says as he extends his hand. You take it to shake but startle when he lifts it to his lips and places a gentle kiss over your knuckles. “And please, call me Vision. I’m unsure as to why Loki here insists on such formalities.” He chuckles, his thumb grazing against your fingers before releasing you and tucking his hand into his pocket. 

You’ve heard of him before, from the stories Loki would tell you during dinners or on lazy Sunday mornings. His best friend, who is also his partner in the trading business he’s in, and another one of the investors that help fund underprivileged schools.

He’s taller than Loki, is what you first notice, and his blond hair is kept short and neat, tousled in a swoop. His smile is kind but his eyes look electric and darker behind the rose-tinted glasses that sit gingerly over his nose. He’s as well dressed as Loki, the navy three-piece making his shoulders look broader and his frame, bigger.

You look up when Loki holds your chin, a wide smile etched on his face. “Why don’t you head on  to the bedroom, love and I’ll just finish up some business with Vision.” He suggests and you accept the kiss he places on your forehead before giving Vision a small wave goodbye yet feeling a shudder at the back of your neck when he nods in your direction, his blue eyes never leaving you which makes you scurry on down the hall and to the master bedroom. 

Closing the door from behind you, you huff in relief, the sudden appearance of Vision having rattled your senses. You don’t understand why Loki never mentioned that his best friend would be here, and from the way he greeted him—“You’re still here”—and the lack of surprise in his voice, he knew beforehand that Vision was present. 

He was having a fun night with you. That’s why he forgot. The little voice in your head reprimands you and that itself allows you to relax, pushing the thought of Vision in Loki’s penthouse to the back of your mind. 

You hang your clutch on the back of the door and run your hands down the length of your dress while walking towards his bed, attempting to smooth out any wrinkles that must have formed in your little romp at the elevator. The corners of your lips curl upward as Loki’s scent of earl grey tea mixed with a hint of mint wafts over your nose; an aroma you found comfort in since the day you first met him. 

The mattress dips from your weight as you take a seat on the edge, taking his pillow in your hands and pressing it against your chest before burying your nose against the soft cushion. 

“You look like you belong here, darling.” 

You turn your head to the door when Loki’s voice surrounds you, seeing him leaning against the doorframe while holding two flutes of what you think is champagne. He stalks over to you and joins you on the bed, the pillow taken from your hands and replaced by the bubbly beverage. 

“I hope Vision being here didn’t ruin your evening.” He begins, lacing the fingers of your free hand with his. “I thought he’d have already left and found no need to warn you about the matter.”

“It’s okay.” You smile, tightening your hold on his hand. “I was just surprised. Is he still here though?” You ask, looking past his shoulder and to the open door.

“He’s on the phone in my study. He knows better than to bother us.” Loki grins and holds up his flute toward you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

Love. 

He called you ‘Love’ the second time around and it makes your heart jump with happiness. He’s never uttered the word before, not even once in the months you’ve been with him. But now, after hearing it again, you can’t help but think that all your fears from earlier were for naught, that Carla was right. Maybe Loki truly feels the same, that he loves you and has been wanting to hear you tell him those three precious words. 

Love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You respond shyly and take a tentative sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose. 

As soon as you finish, he takes your glass and sets them atop the bedside table along with his. He sits closer and so do you, and you feel the spark once more setting a flame to your blood that you reach out when he leans in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he captures your lips. 

His kiss is soft and slow, lips exploring yours while his tongue remains at bay in his mouth. But his hands begin to wander and you let him, your own moving down to grab hold of his coat and pushing it off his shoulders, hearing the fabric fall to the floor. 

You part your lips when his tongue pushes past them, moaning against his mouth as he twirls the soft muscle against your own. He tastes of champagne and sin and it makes your heart pound hard against your chest, the swell of emotion taking control of your very being that makes you decide then there that you do love this man and you would do anything to make him happy. You’d do everything to keep him.

“I love you, Loki.” You whisper when he pulls away, your eyes glistening when he stares down at you, caught off guard by your sudden confession. 

He inhales deeply and you feel his hands tighten around your frame. “Oh, my darling girl.” He murmurs back and you smile against his lips when he kisses you once more, lifting you off the bed and having you straddle his lap. 

You mewl in delight upon feeling his desire pressing against your cunt, your hand skimming down his solid chest and cupping the tent in his pants. He groans and you preen in success, fingers moving to massage the growing erection before expertly flicking them to unhook the lock of his pants from the latch, the sound of his zipper echoing loudly in your ears. 

“Will you—” He mumbles and you give him no time to finish. 

You stand from the bed and giggle when he leans back against the headboard, following suit and kneeling before him to help shimmy his trousers and boxers off his thighs. 

His cock springs free and you gasp at how hard he is, the tip engorged and pink with precum already leaking from the tip. He takes hold of the base and pumps himself a couple of times before you take over with your own hand. You hear his voice shake and it's enough to urge you on, leaning over to press a kiss on his clothed chest—where his heart is hidden underneath—before leaning down to lay a kiss on his tip. 

Your lips part when you feel his hand rest on your head, a silent command for you to take him. And you do, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking on it slowly, feeling Loki shudder from the deed. 

Inch by inch, you take him deeper into your mouth, gagging when the tip grazes the back of your throat. But you don’t relent, pulling back to trace the vein on the side of his cock with the tip of your tongue before taking him in once more and setting your pace as you suck on him hard. 

Each moan and groan that escape his lips you take as a sign to go further, to take more and more of him and quicken the momentum you’ve set. You take the base of his length and give it slow and languid strokes, your lips kissing the edge of your fingers as they move in sync yet contrast with each other. 

His fingers weave through your locks and you moan when he tightens his hold on them, pushing your head down on his shaft so that you move your hand away and grab tightly on his thigh when you begin gagging once more at his size. 

Your pussy clenches on nothing as lewd noises continue dripping from his lips, feeling your walls slicken and soak through the lacey fabric that suddenly feels too constricting as heat crawls up your skin.

You feel him grab onto the hem of your dress, pulling the fabric and bunching them to your waist. You pull away from his cock and gasp when he gives your ass a sharp slap before grazing his fingers over your clothed cunt. He pushes the flimsy, soaked fabric to the side and moaning against his cock when he rolls his digit against your swollen bud. 

“She’s ready.” Loki intones and you blink in curiosity at his words. 

“Wha—”

You’re instantly filled with panic when another pair of hands grab hold of your hips. You push yourself up and look over your shoulder, your eyes widening in shock to see Vision standing at the foot of the bed, his fingers digging into your flesh and pulling you closer to him. 

You try to get off, pushing away from Loki but he restrains your wrists with his tight grip, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you. 

“Loki—what’s going on?” Your lips tremble as you ask, grunting as you try to pry your hands from his hold. “Why is he here?” 

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” Vision says from behind you, your body shaking and tears falling from your eyes when you feel his hot breath fan over your cunt, a kiss being laid over the expanse of your ass. “I’m just checking the goods. A little…quality control if you will.” 

The chuckle that he emits makes your heart constrict and you face Loki once more, eyes pleading that he saves you from this monstrosity. But his eyes are blown wide, and you see no remorse, no compassion in them, only lust and it shakes your very core and shatters your heart that everything you believed him to be, the sweet and kind gentleman you fell in love with, was all a lie. 

Your body jolts and you clench your fingers into fists when Vision laps his tongue against your cunt. You try to kick your legs, to stop him from his malicious act but his hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs wide in the process. You’re left helpless on the bed, splayed open for him to take while Loki keeps his hands on you, making sure you don’t escape. 

“Be a good girl and suck my cock, darling.” Loki intones, hiding your face from him as your tears continue to roll down your face. “We can’t let Vision have all the fun.”

“No!” You shout and pull your hands and knees inward, struggling against them to set yourself free. “Let me go!” But you let out a yelp when a harsh slap lands on your ass.

“Don’t be a fucking brat and do as he says!” Vision berates, going still as fear runs up your spine with the intensity of his voice. 

“Please—” You beg, shaking your head as you look into Loki’s eyes once more. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone—I swear.” 

You wince when your hair is grabbed from behind, Vision’s clothed chest pressing down on your back and you feel his hot breath fanning over your cheek. “You don’t get to make that choice, sweetheart. So you either be a good girl and listen or I won’t be kind and break you myself.”

“Now, now, Vis. Let’s not be brash about this.” Loki tuts, feeling his hand caress your cheek and Vision releasing his grip on your tresses. “She’s a good girl, right?” He says while looking down at you, fingers pinching your chin with his thumb grazing over your lower lip. 

You nod in reluctance. 

“Now, do what Vision says and we’ll be gentle with you.” He smirks and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours before pressing a light kiss over your lips. “Between the two of us, he’s the nice one.” 

You swallow thickly at the revelation. If Vision is the nice one and he’s already angry with your defiance, you don’t want to know what Loki would be like if you pushed him over the edge. And the thought itself scares you for you’ve never seen him angry, even once. You don’t want to see him angry. The small voice in your head whispers and your tears flow anew as you take Loki in your hand and part your lips to push him into your mouth. 

Vision pulls back, his hands once more framing your hips, and you whimper when you feel the tip of his cock press against your clit. He teases you, rubbing his length over your folds with the tip of his thumb grazing over your cunt. You stop your head from bobbing and pull away from Loki’s cock when you gasp as Vision pushes himself in, your walls squeezing him tightly from his intrusion, your back arching at the size of his cock, feeling him stretch you wide. 

“Oh, shit—!” He curses into the air. “She’s fucking tight.”

“Told you,” Loki responds, pushing your head back to his length. “No matter how much I fuck her, she always squeezes me good.”

His words make your chest clench in pain—the realization that he never cared for you and was playing with you all along, stringing you around like some puppet all for whatever purpose he and his friend have—and disgust, that he sounds delighted to share you with another. 

Vision starts a slow rhythm, his cock rubbing against your aching walls with languid strokes. But such reprieve quickly fades as he begins to thrust at a faster pace, rough hands holding onto your hips tight, keeping you grounded on the bed, allowing him fuck you faster and harder.

You groan when Loki moves to stand on his knees, his hands framing your face as he, too, fucks your mouth relentlessly, your nose flaring as you try desperately to breathe. Your jaw aches and your throat burns in pain as his tip hits the back of it repeatedly. You keep your mouth wide open, tears mixing with the saliva that drips down your chin. 

They groan in sync, abusing you with their strength, their thrusts brutal and their touch unloving with how they grab on you—Vision’s hand curling over your thigh and rubbing his finger against your clit that makes your knees ache, fueling your arousal which you forcefully keep at bay—and Loki, grabbing a fistful of your hair before burying his cock deep, your hand, finally free from his grasp, slapping against his thigh for him to pull back. 

You can’t believe this is happening, how these men were able to force themselves on you. How you allowed yourself to fall for Loki’s lies which eventually brought you here and it makes you cry further that it’s all because you allowed yourself to love. 

You feel them throb inside of you, your pussy clamping down on Vision’s cock as you feel yourself edging closer to your peak. Loki groans, garbled moans spewing out of his lips and you shut your eyes tight when the salty essence of his come spreads throughout your tongue. 

He pants, his body seeming limp from his orgasm but his hold on your hair doesn’t falter, keeping his cock lodged in your mouth as he continues to spurt out his seeds. “Swallow.” He commands with a shaky breath and you moan your disapproval. But his hand wraps around your throat, thumb, and forefinger massaging and pinching the sides, leaving you no choice but to do as he demands. 

Loki pulls out and you gasp lungfuls of air, thankful for the respite you’re given. But Vision pushes on and your face is pushed on Loki’s thigh, moaning incoherently as he snaps his hips at a frantic pace. 

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He growls, your hands pushing hard against the bed as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts. 

You gasp once more, the breath knocked out of your chest when he hits that sacred spot from within. He pinches your clit and your walls tighten further around him, a slew of moans escaping your lips when the dam within you finally breaks and you cry as your orgasm consumes you, your chest dropping down on the bed while your legs shake from the intensity of your release. 

You’re left hollow when Vision pulls out all of a sudden, his grunts bouncing off the walls and filling your ears. You then feel something warm splash and trickle down the back of your thigh then the tip of Vision’s cock poking against it before smearing all over your skin. A whine spills from your lips when he fills you once more, thrusting into you slowly before stilling yet keeping himself nestled within your cunt. 

“She’s perfect.” Vision breathes and you sniff as you cry again, whimpering when you feel his lips press against your lower back and then trail up the length of your spine. “That attitude needs work though but nothing we can’t fix.” He chuckles darkly and your knees finally collapse on the bed when he pulls out once again.

You hear the rustle of clothing and a zipper setting in place. Vision’s shadow looms at your periphery and you pull your head away when he kisses your temple. 

“We have a meeting with Stark in 2 weeks and we have to make sure she’s ready by then.” 

“Don’t worry, Vis.” Loki laughs and you turn to hide your face when he runs his fingers through your hair. “She loves me and she’ll do anything for me. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You yelp when he pulls on your hair, turning your head to make you face him, green eyes laced with darkness as he keeps them on you. You want to say no, to fight back and tell him you don’t want to be part of their sick plan, but the tick in his jaw scares you, seeing the anger brewing within and waiting to be released. 

So you nod, lifting your hand to wipe the tears from your eyes, and take a deep breath.

“Yes.” You acquiesce, lips quivering in fear as you speak. “I’ll do anything for you.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications.

#loki #vision #victor shade #loki x reader #loki fanfction #vision x reader #vision fanfiction #loki x reader x vision #dark loki #dark!loki #dark vision #dark!vision #dark fic #loki au #vision au #mcu au #valentine's day fic #anything for you

[erythia-xiv]

                  .: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎  :.                   .: 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎....  :.                   .: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗  :.                   .: 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 :.                                                         🎀  

#ff14 #FFXIV #ff14 FFXIV #FFXIV Screenshots #ffxiv screenies #ffxiv edits #ffxiv 14 #FF14 screenshots #FF14 screenies #ffxiv miqo'te #ffxiv keeper of the moon #ff14 miqote #Nenet Ghisiro #Blushing roses and ivory lace you will find me in this place

[pressedinthepages]

Crave

next fill for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

also big thanks to @major-trouble for beta-ing and @sometimesiwrite and @lookoutrogue for pointing me in the right direction and helping me along <3

(shhhhh @continentcakeshop i know its like the second one in as many days but its fineeeeeeee)

Prompt: Incubus/Succubus

Relationship: Eskel/Jaskier

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: modern au, bookshop au, Jaskier is an incubus, magical genitalia, intersex Jaskier, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), m/m penetrative sex

Summary: Eskel runs into Jaskier and helps him with his 'research,' leading them closer and closer together.

The little bell over the door tinkled and Eskel peeked up from where he was emptying his stock cart. He couldn’t see who walked in, only the faintest glimpse of a lavender shirt disappearing around a corner, down into an aisle. Eskel shelved the last few novels before returning to the counter, sneaking his book out from its hiding spot and flipping to his bookmark. He didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps, engrossed as he was. But a soft clearing of the throat caught his attention and he startled up, his breath catching at the sight of the man before him.

The young man had on a soft-looking lavender jumper and his hair fell in chestnut waves over his forehead. His eyes were the clearest cornflower blue, and he sported just the barest beginnings of smiley wrinkles. His mouth moved in pretty pink words that tasted like spice drops on Eskel’s tongue, and-

Oh shit.

He asked me a question.

Eskel cleared his throat and blinked, shaking the blush off his cheeks. “S-sorry, what did you say?”

The man smiled, blinding white and cheeky. “No worries, I do talk a bit fast. I asked if you had any books on mythology, specifically succubi?”

Oh, and if that didn’t conjure up some ideas in the dark edges of Eskel’s brain. He prided himself on being a gentleman, but he’d be lying if he said that the very basest part of his mind didn’t imagine the young man laid out beneath him, his honey-laced voice crying his name while lust poured from their very pores.

Eskel glanced around the empty storefront as he walked around the counter, crooking his finger to the man to follow him. “Don’t have much, at least here in the store. But I’ve got one or two.”

“Lovely,” the man said with a smirk, and Eskel could’ve sworn he felt the tracks of his eyes down the line of his back and over the swell of his ass as they went to the last aisle of fiction. He bent down and pulled out two books.

“Here, this one’s not too dense, and is good for the basics. But…” he trailed off and looked over his shoulder, catching the man’s eyes glance back up to him, “this one is good for more in-depth research, without gettin’ too murky.”

Eskel watched the bob of the man’s throat as he swallowed thickly, taking the books from his hands. “Sold. Thank you, Eskel.”

Eskel blinked and racked his brain. I swear I don’t know him, I’d remember his face, his eyes, his voice, his bum-

The man chuckled lightly, “Your nametag. Must say, I was cheating a bit. Call me Jaskier.”

Eskel’s cheeks pulled up into an easy smile. The next words fell from his lips almost too easily, forgetting himself and his scars on and under his skin and who he even was under Jaskier’s intense gaze. “Well, just when might I call you, Jaskier?”

Jaskier (thank fuck) blushed and bit his bottom lip with a grin that set Eskel’s already pounding heart alight. They walked slowly back towards the front of the bookstore to the register. “Well, I should think I’ll come back ‘round soon to see if you...get anything new in stock?”

Eskel nodded as he stepped behind the counter, taking the two books back and scanning their black and white barcodes. He discreetly threw on his brother’s phone number for a discount and slid the books across to Jaskier. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Oh,” said Jaskier as he handed over his cash and his fingers just barely glanced over Eskel’s, sending sparks beneath his skin, “I think we already have.”

---

“Back already?” It was the next day, just shy of when Eskel was going to lock up for a quick lunch. Jaskier had blown in through the door with a bright smile on his face, and Eskel would’ve been lying if he said that his heart hadn’t skipped a beat when he recognized him.

Jaskier nodded and leaned his elbows on the edge of the counter. “Mhm. I read both of those books last night, they were fantastic. But I was wondering if you could maybe help me order one or two more? If you have time, that is?”

“Of course,” Eskel said, gesturing to Jaskier to walk around the edge of the counter and join him at the monitor. “Here, we can look through what we carry and can order.”

They scrolled through the website for what was available, narrowing and adjusting their search parameters for a while before finding some interesting titles. “Oooh,” murmured Jaskier, bumping lightly into Eskel’s arm and pointing at one of the books on the screen, “that one looks helpful.”

It was a leather bound tome entitled ‘Succubi and Incubi in the Modern World,’ by one J. A. Pankratz. It seemed almost a little too perfect for what Jaskier had been looking for, and Eskel hoped that by ordering this one book, he wouldn’t have been driving Jaskier from coming back into his store. He added two copies to the cart and placed the order. He’d save one for Jaskier, and he would take one home for himself. Looks pretty interesting.

---

The books had arrived early in the morning, and Eskel called Jaskier to let him know that he could pop in and pick it up at his convenience. Jaskier had stopped by in the evening, thanking him endlessly before swooping away as Eskel locked up.

Eskel briskly walked home with the leather-bound book weighing heavily in his pack, tempting him to just break it open with every step down the sidewalk. As soon as he got into his flat, he tossed the keys to the side and toed off his boots, making a beeline for his dresser. He changed out of his smart button-down and jeans and into a comfy jumper and a pair of dark sweatpants.

He put on the kettle and unpacked his bag, throwing the empty tupperware from his lunch into the sink and setting the book onto the side table by his armchair. Yes, the bookseller had a reading nook. Don’t judge. He pulled the kettle off just before it started to whistle and made his cup of tea, leaving it to steep for a moment while he washed the few dishes that had found their way into the sink.

Puttering over to his cushy chair with tea in hand, Eskel sighed. He sat down and nestled himself into a comfortable spot, one foot tucked under him and his elbow resting on the velvety arm of the chair. Air whistled through the notch in his lip when he lightly blew the curls of steam away from his mug before taking a sip, letting the warm tea drag down his throat and settle in his stomach.

He set his mug down atop a coaster and ran his hand slowly along the strikingly plain cover of the novel. It was a deep mahogany leather bound tome with golden embossed lettering, and it even boasted a little light blue ribbon to keep his page. The spine crackled as he tipped open the cover, revealing thick ivory paper with deckled edges. Eskel took his time in feeling the book in his hands, running his thumbs down the rough edges of the paper and along the lettering of the title page.

J. A. Pankratz. The name jumped out at him, almost as if it were peering up at him from the page. Waiting. For what? Eskel shook his head with a heavy sigh. It had been a long day, and now his imagination was running rampant before even starting the book. He smiled to himself as he pictured Jaskier, tucked away and cozy, cracking open his own copy of the book and seeking the knowledge that he had been chasing.

There was no introduction, no prelude into the lore that lurked in the supple pages. Only a simple table of contents, and publication information. Nothing odd that caught Eskel’s eyes, but his fingers felt beckoned to the page of chapter one. Myths and Reality.

Eskel felt submerged in the writing, enveloped in the dense weave of storytelling that swam into the forefront of his mind. Contrary to the myths of old, creatures of lust no longer require feeding from the unquenchable arousal of others. They live and breathe as humans, though you will find several marked differences. Their magic, though subtle, is a powerful compulsion, breaking through inhibitions to access the cravings that lay beneath the surface…

Now, Eskel boasted an ability to read and retain at breakneck speeds. He could finish a full-length novel in a night and be able to explain the plot and key details with surprising clarity. But his eyes glazed over as he darted around words and theories, letting them almost bleed into his brain as his fingers flipped the pages by. His tea sat forgotten: he read as though searching to sate a deep thirst in his belly.

The air around him grew warm as the moon rose higher and higher, and Eskel felt a welcome flush crawl its way up his chest and around his throat. His cock stirred between his legs, filling slowly while his mind swam in a hazy bliss. The words on the pages blurred together, though Eskel tried valiantly to bring his focus back to the book in his hand.

Though not for much longer. With a gentle sigh he slipped the light blue ribbon (almost exactly that odd shade of blue that was locked away in Jaskier’s eyes…) in between the pages and set the book back down on the table. Eskel dropped the heel of his palm down to drag up the base of his cock. His breath hitched and he dropped his head back, squeezing himself lightly through the soft cotton of his pants. Fuck, when did he get so hard?

The elastic band was pushed out of the way, only halfway down his thighs, just enough to let Eskel wrap his hand around his cock. He was already dripping precome, slicking his hand with every swirl around the head. His mind filled in hazy edges and wandering bubbles of arousal with Jaskier, that soft smirk and wavy brown hair and broad shoulders and a tongue that seemed like it could cut glass.

Eskel adjusted his legs, planting his feet down on the floor and spreading his thighs open, swallowing thickly as another bead of arousal dripped down the length of him. His other hand wandered up to his chest where he almost absentmindedly ran his fingers over his tender nipple just as he had thumbed along the rough edges of the pages in the book, scratching through the rough pull of the fabric of his jumper. His back arched and his hips chased a building pace, his climax building from the base of his spine.

His mind helpfully supplied an image of Jaskier, kneeling on the floor between his knees, his lips open and waiting for him. Eskel tensed as he felt himself draw closer and closer to the edge of the euphoric cliff, almost feeling the pressure of Jaskier’s hands drag up his legs. Piercing cornflower blue eyes looked up at him with burning intensity and shoved Eskel into the most intense orgasm he had given himself in a long time.

Heavy gasps tore into drawn-out sighs, his jaw clenched as his muscles tensed and rippled beneath his skin. His vision whited out and his ears rang with deafening silence, drowning him in oblivion that he couldn’t have torn himself out of if he had tried. Instead, the world came back to him slowly, waves of a tide depositing the whir of his ceiling fan, the ethereal echo of the moon’s light on the hardwood floors.

Eskel slowly blinked open his eyes, taking long, heavy breaths and smiling headily. He glanced down, finding long white ropes of his spend draping down the collar of his jumper to where he still held his cock gently in his palm. He stroked himself once more, slowly, dragging the last beads of his spend off of himself. He didn’t think twice before bringing his fingers to his lips, tasting the salty bitterness of his climax on his tongue.

Eskel sighed once more as he felt the world push in on the comfortable quiet of his mind, prodding his eyelids to grow heavy and his bed to beckon him from behind the cracked door of his room. He tucked himself away and pushed himself out of the cushy chair, dragging his feet towards his washing machine. He shucked his soiled jumper off into the empty drum and set it to do an extra pre-rinse.

He flipped the lights off and toed open the door to his room, gracelessly flopping onto the bed and shuffling under the blankets. Eskel curled up around himself, feeling warm and fuzzy, though maybe...maybe a little empty? He sighed and hugged his arms against his chest, wishing to all hopes that he wasn’t actually alone as the sweet embrace of sleep overtook him.

---

An entire week passed before Eskel saw Jaskier again. Which he couldn’t say was odd; they had only been in the same place a handful of times, and there hadn’t been any sort of routine to it.

At least, that’s what Eskel told himself.

Another long day of needy customers and screaming children left Eskel drained, and he didn’t hesitate to close the bookstore early. He flipped the sign around to say ‘Closed’ and counted down his money, leaving it in the safe in the back for the morning.

He pushed the glass door open and spun around as it fell shut, slipping his key in and letting the cylinder fall into place. Eskel glanced around, spying a familiar cock-sure smirk on the face of a man as he strode over to him from the coffee shop across the street with a quite attractive swagger. Jaskier stopped at a careful distance, though Eskel tried to keep his face as open and friendly as possible. “Hey, Eskel.”

“Oh, Jaskier,” Eskel peeked behind him towards the shop, “did you need something from in there? I was just locking up, I’m sorry-”

“Oh, no. Well, maybe. We’ll see. But uh. That’s not why I’m here.”

Eskel crooked his head, “Okay…”

“Listen, I didn’t want to do this while you were on the clock, cause that’s icky, but uh…would you be interested in going out sometime? Grab some coffee, or lunch maybe?”

Eskel had completely blue screened. He didn’t think he’d actually get this far. Shit, how long had it been since he actually went on a date? What was he gonna wear? Where were they going?

Fuck.

Didn’t even give him an answer yet.

---

The coffee across the street was fine, but Eskel really just found himself more and more enamored with the striking young man who kept gently bumping their knees together beneath the table.

It was the easiest date that Eskel had ever found himself on. Jaskier was kind, funny, intelligent. Caring. It was the simplest thing in the world for him to invite Jaskier on a quiet walk, meandering through the city streets until they found themselves at Eskel’s stoop.

Eskel glanced down at the prettiest ethereal blue eyes he’d ever seen and smirked. “Wanna come in?”

Jaskier grinned toothily, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The keys clattered to the floor as Eskel led the way over the threshold, grabbing Jaskier by the waist and kissing him deeply. Their lips danced and Eskel could almost taste the lust that poured from his very being. They pushed and tore at hemlines and buttons, craving the release of skin hidden away. Eskel finally got Jaskier’s shirt open and threw it to the floor, running his fingers through the thick hair that was so generously dusted over his broad chest.

Eskel’s own shirt fell open by Jaskier’s fingers and he let his hands drop down to the button on Jaskier’s trousers. But a soft hand stopped him, and Eskel watched his throat bob in anticipation.

“Before we go on,” Jaskier smirked, though his eyes shone with a tinge of worry, “I…have a bit of a…situation to inform you of.”

Eskel’s mind started spinning in circles, covering different scenarios and how best to respond to them. Does he have an STD? Is he a fugitive on the run from the law? Hung up on an ex? Maybe he’s ace? Poly? Enby? Trans? Is it his first time? The list went on and on, greased gears turning rapidly in Eskel’s head. However, what Jaskier actually said hadn’t even made its way into Eskel’s mind.

“I wrote that book. About the incubi.”

Eskel blinked and glanced between Jaskier’s eyes, searching for more answers, rubbing his thumbs gently along Jaskier’s hips. “O-okay…”

“How far did you get?”

Eskel thought back to the night that he had brought the book home, and the fantasy that his mind had woven for him. “Uh...not far. I...I got distracted.”

Jaskier nodded, just the barest hint of a blush spreading like watercolors over his cheeks. “Well...when I say that I wrote the book...I wrote it from personal experience. I am actually an incubus.”

At that point, Eskel’s brain completely stopped computing. He was confused beyond belief and undeniably still horny, and the only thing that he could let slip from his lips was an eloquent, “Huh?”

Jaskier offered a none-too-sheepish smile, his eyes shimmering with unbridled attraction. But he let Eskel process, the two of them standing just inside of Eskel’s doorway, naked from the waist up.

Eskel swallowed and willed his brain cells to work, dammit. "You're a-an incubus? I thought they were-I mean, forgive my ignorance I just haven't, ah, met one... or heard of anyone else... meeting one. Recently."

Jaskier chuckled, the sound like music to Eskel’s ears. “Oh gods, you’re adorable. There’s only a handful of us left, and we don’t generally tend to advertise. Of course you thought it was just a myth. Kind of the point, love.”

Jaskier gently ran his hands up Eskel’s arms, smoothing his fingers into the generous muscle. “I want you to know, though, that I…we don’t feed off of lust. Never did. It...it was a lie, a myth. Our magic is...it’s indulgence, an amplification of lust that’s already there. So I didn’t like...hunt you down, or anything creepy. You just caught my eye, and I thought I’d see if you were interested.”

Eskel nodded, resting his forehead down onto Jaskier’s. “Gotta say, this isn’t quite how I imagined this evening goin’. But...weirder shit happens. And...I’d be lyin’ if I said that I wasn’t still ridiculously attracted to you.”

He brought his lips down and kissed Jaskier sweetly, sliding their lips together slowly and languidly, relishing in the balance of wills that they had found themselves in. Jaskier broke away first, brushing the tip of his nose over Eskel’s. “A-and one more thing-”

“Whatever it is, it’s fine.” Eskel couldn’t really help the way that his brows scrunched in disbelief, even the tiniest bit, but he didn’t want to put Jaskier off by not buying into whatever he was trying to convince him of.

“Well…” Jaskier blinked, biting his lip, “I...one of the things with my magic. I can...I can change the...parts that I have. I can kinda switch? Between a-a...you know?” He gestured vaguely to the region between his legs, and Eskel nodded, somewhat getting the picture. “And I don’t really have a preference, everything’s enjoyable...so if you do, I can just kinda…*poof*,” he smiled.

Now, Eskel really wasn’t sure if anything weirder had happened, at least that he was aware of. Did I eat something off today? Not that he could remember, but this all felt...well. Like an odd fever dream. But Jaskier felt so real in his arms, and he was looking up at him with such sincerity that he figured, ah, what the hell. I’ll humor him...or, them? Ah shite, I should ask-

“Right...so, d-do you want me to call you something else? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or use the wrong pronouns or-”

Jaskier smiled and reached up, ruffling Eskel’s hair and sliding the tips of his fingers down the line of his jaw. “You’re sweet. No, Jaskier is perfect, and I use he/him always. Sometimes I change the parts that I have for pleasure, but I am always Jaskier.”

Eskel squinted, still feeling like he was maybe having the wool pulled over his eyes. “Mhm. And uh-”

“Would you like a demonstration?” Jaskier smiled sweetly, still running his fingers along Eskel’s shoulders in lazy swirls. Eskel nodded and led them further into the apartment, giving Jaskier some space to strip himself of the remainder of his clothes. Eskel wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but this seemed like a lot of effort for someone to create a falsity that intricate. He stood bare before Eskel, broad chest tapering down to a soft waist and thick thighs, with a pretty cock nestled in a bed of dark hair.

Eskel sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Y-you’re gorgeous…”

“Oh, stop it you. You’re making me blush,” Jaskier smirked, popping his hip. “Now, don’t watch too closely, or else you’ll never look at a human quite in the same way again.”

But Eskel couldn’t tear his eyes away as Jaskier’s hips lit up in a burst of buttercup-yellow sparks that dissipated with a blink of his eyes, and then there was a little slit that was just barely visible beneath the nest of dark hair, rather than what had been there only a moment prior. Eskel’s jaw fell agape, now fully in awe of the apparently magical creature that was standing naked in his living room.

“Believe me now?” Jaskier shrugged, spinning himself around to show off his pert buttocks and legs with muscles that delicately danced just beneath the surface.

Eskel swallowed, and he felt his cock throb in the tight confines of his jeans, an impatient reminder that he was, in fact, still very into Jaskier. “Uh... yeah. Yeah, I-fuck, that's incredible. I certainly don't need more convincing and I...well, um..." Eskel got a wolfish look in his eyes, "Which would you like me to start with?"

Jaskier bit his lip and nodded, stepping backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of Eskel’s armchair. Eskel quickly wrestled with the buttons and zipper of his pants before tearing them down his legs, shucking them off to the side before following Jaskier to his reading corner.

Jaskier sat down, sprawled bare with his cunt shining and dripping with his arousal onto the soft red cushion of the same chair that Eskel fuckin jerked himself off in. Eskel really really couldn’t decide just where he wanted to look, so he just...dropped to his knees and leveled his face with the blushed pink lips between Jaskier’s legs.

Jaskier gasped and his fingers flexed on the arms of the chair. “Usually, we’re the ones giving pleasure, but yeah sure, I’m not gonna say no…”

“C’mon,” Eskel rumbled as he rested his chin on Jaskier’s thigh, his breath fanning gently over the glistening lips between Jaskier’s legs. “You can’t expect me to see this whole package and not want to bury my face in you?”

And sure, maybe it had been a while since Eskel had found himself with his lips between someone’s thighs like that, but fuck he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Eskel finally dragged his tongue through his slit and around the sensitive bud at the apex of his thighs, shooting pleasure up through Jaskier’s stomach and into his neck with a soft pink blush. Eskel even had a bit of stubble sprouting over his chin, and he could almost see the sweet burn that it left on the insides of his thighs. A dark moan crawled up out of Jaskier’s chest as he threaded his fingers into the soft strands of Eskel’s hair.

Eskel leaned into his touch and wrapped his lips around Jaskier’s clit and sucked lightly, running a finger down through Jaskier’s slit before slowly pushing inside. Jaskier arched into him, his head hitting the back of the chair and his legs wrapping around Eskel’s head. But there was suddenly one very demanding problem: Eskel, while he normally sported an unending well of patience, was running out. He wanted to feel Jaskier fall apart around him, to feel him everywhere. So he slid his hands up beneath Jaskier’s thighs and around his bum and pulled, resettling him on the very edge of the seat, basically sitting him on Eskel’s chin as he drank anew.

The glide of Jaskier’s hips up and down Eskel’s chin was enough to have him dripping slick onto the hardwood floor beneath him, and he felt more than heard the wet squelch of Jaskier’s tender spot inside of him as he slipped in a second finger. Jaskier keened high and started fucking himself on Eskel’s fingers in earnest, and Eskel crooked his elbow so that he could hit that angle over and over and over again.

Eskel could feel how close Jaskier was, with the fluttering and tightening of his walls around his fingers and the near constant drip of slick down his arm. He lapped and sucked at his clit with fervor, pushing him relentlessly towards the climax that loomed over them both with each wet slap up and down of his fingers.

And oh, when Jaskier finally plummeted over that cliff of euphoria? Eskel was drenched in a wave of slick that dripped down his chin and into the dark coarse hairs on his chest. Jaskier’s fingers tightened in his hair and he cried out Eskel’s name, even sweeter than anything he would’ve dared imagine. Eskel slowed his fingers and lapped gently at the tender flesh between Jaskier’s thighs, coaxing him down through the blinding pleasure that overtook him.

“Oh,” Eskel murmured, resting his forehead on the mound of soft hair over Jaskier’s still fluttering arousal, “th-that was…fuck that was amazing.”

Jaskier chuckled and loosened his grip on Eskel’s hair, gently scratching and running his fingers down Eskel’s cheek. “I wish I could’ve warned you that was coming, but uh…my brain was definitively not keeping up.”

Eskel rose to his feet, pulling Jaskier up onto shaky legs. “C’mon, little bird. Let’s get to the bed.”

Jaskier followed Eskel through an open doorway into his bedroom, and Eskel could once again feel the intense gaze of his eyes roving over his ass. “So Eskel, do you want to fuck me?” Jaskier smiled, pressing his lips softly to the rough valleys of Eskel’s scarred cheek.

Eskel blushed, running his hand back through his hair, the muscles of his arm swelling and running Jaskier’s mouth dry. “I-well. I was actually wonderin’ i-if you’d-well. If you’d fuck me.”

Jaskier‘s eyes alighted with a fire that sent a sounded thread straight through Eskel’s core. “Oh, you have no idea just how much that would be my pleasure.”

Jaskier set his hands on Eskel’s hips and pushed him gently towards the bed, tapping him lightly on the ass. “Mind if I have a snack?”

Eskel shuddered and chuckled, climbing onto his hands and knees on the bed with his bum pointed to Jaskier. “Help yourself.”

Eskel braced himself to be licked and brought to pleasure with a fervor that had matched his own, but what he got instead was a soft hand that smoothed up the back of his thigh, gently palming his cheek and spreading him before a sweet kiss was placed on the globe of his ass.

“Y-you dont have to be gentle with me-“

“I want to be gentle with you, you mountain of a man. Now, let me make you feel good.”

A warm ghost of breath slid over the small of Eskel’s back as Jaskier knelt on the bed behind him, settling his hands on Eskel’s hips and squeezing lightly.

“Oohhhh,” Eskel groaned as Jaskier flattened his tongue over his entrance, mouthing around the tight ring of muscle and kneading his fingers into the meat of his bum.

He felt himself relax into Jaskier’s touch, letting his mind drift into a pleasant haze. Jaskier’s hand snaked around his leg and wrapped around his weeping cock, slowly stroking in time with his tongue pushing into his entrance. His hips rocked back and forth into Jaskier, riding the comfortable waves of arousal as they washed over him.

“Fuck me dead, you’re delicious,” Jaskier’s voice was thick and husky, dripping like syrup. “I’m assuming you’ve got lube hidden away in here?”

Eskel laughed breathily, adjusting his shoulder to point to his bedside drawer. “Right up top.”

Jaskier patted Eskel’s behind and pushed himself up, reaching into the drawer and rummaging around. Eskel heard a cute little ‘aha!’ and the click of a plastic cap being opened.

A slick pair of fingers circled his entrance and he keened, gasping back into Jaskier’s touch. “I-in, please-“

“Alright, Eskel. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

Eskel nodded and Jaskier slowly pushed his finger in, thrusting lightly until he was buried to the knuckle. He poured some more lube onto his finger and let Eskel set his preferred pace, following the rocks of his hips and the heavy flexing of his cock between his legs.

Before long, Jaskier slipped in another finger, and then another, stretching Eskel open. Eskel growled and moaned and pushed hard back into Jaskier’s fingers, only just barely brushing against that sweet spot that was nestled so deep.

Eskel was sweating, his hands tangled in the sheets as pleasure built to crescendo behind his eyes, and he felt the stirrings of the point of no return hanging just out of sight. “W-wait, Jaskier. Fuck, I’m ready.”

Jaskier hummed and slipped his fingers from inside of him, leaving him gaping and empty as he patted his hip. “Flip over, Eskel. I wanna watch you fall apart.”

Eskel flipped onto his back and looked up at Jaskier, his soft skin dusted with a generous coating of dark hair, his tummy soft and leading down to-

Hnnnggggg

Instead of the pretty cunt that Eskel had buried himself in, that same equally pretty cock from earlier now jutted out from Jaskier’s hips, flushed and dripping with slick. He spoke without thinking, “Fuck I want you in my mouth.”

Jaskier giggled and ran the bottle of lube up the line of his cock, spreading it around with his hand and dropping the bottle to the side. He clambered back onto the bed between Eskel’s thighs and ran his hands up either side of his stomach reverently. “Maybe later. For now, though, I’d very much like to fuck you.”

Eskel reached up and ran his fingers into Jaskier’s hair as he felt the blunt head of his cock press against his entrance. He breathed deeply, tasting the arousal in the room on his tongue as Jaskier pushed in slowly, slotting their hips together and leaning down atop him.

“I’m not sure,” Jaskier gasped, resting his forehead on Eskel’s, “that I’ve ever felt anyone so sweet. I could die here, and would do so happily.”

“I’d rather if you didn’t,” Eskel smirked, clenching around Jaskier in an effort to get him to move.

“Gah, ca-can I m-“

“Please. Please move. Fuck me. Ruin me.”

Jaskier grinned like the cat who caught the canary, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over Eskel’s flanks as he oh so slowly slid back out of Eskel, and just as slowly slid back in. Eskel felt every slick inch of him in stark relief, his head swimming with how beautifully he was filled.

“F-faster...go on, Jask- y-you won’t break me…”

Jaskier gasped a hitched breath as his hips snapped forward accidentally, sending a shockwave of pleasure up Eskel’s spine. “Ah, fuck. O-okay. D-don’t wanna push too f...far-”

Eskel slid his hand up to cup the delicate jaw of the incubus atop him. “I’ll tell you. I promise. But I trust you. Take me.”

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered shut and he slammed his cock into Eskel, rocking back and forth with a fervor unlike anything Eskel had ever had the great pleasure to have been a part of before. Eskel could feel the crown of his head hitting the wall behind his bed with every sharp thrust of Jaskier’s hips, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just took it, not even able to form a coherent string of words together, only offering soft grunts and drawn-out moans that were swallowed by Jaskier’s lips.

Eskel’s mind swam in an impossible oblivion, every thrust of Jaskier inside of him pushing him closer and closer to an unstoppable climax. He felt Jaskier’s hands drag down beneath his thighs and lift, settling his ass on the tops of his thighs and oh holy shit right fucking there-

And then. Eskel thought that he was about to pass out when Jaskier adjusted himself to prop one of his elbows next to Eskel’s head and grabbed his cock with the other, stroking in quick jolts that matched every time he hit his prostate and-

Oh fuck he was coming. Eskel shouted in high breaths that escaped from his lungs as his body shook with wave after wave after wave of pleasure. He spent thick white ropes of seed between them, dripping through both of their chest’s hair, his fingers clenching onto any inch of Jaskier that he could reach.

And oh sweet gods above, Jaskier didn’t miss a beat, just slipped his hand off of Eskel’s oversensitive cock and fisted his hands in the sheets on either side of Eskel’s head. Eskel lazily opened his eyes as his blinding orgasm faded away and gently ran his finger down the soft, just barely stubbled line of Jaskier’s jaw. “Go on, Jask,” Eskel rumbled, watching the shudder that ran through Jaskier’s taxed nerves, “Come for me.”

Gasps of hot breath ghosted over Eskel’s face as Jaskier drove his hips deep, his eyes rolling back in his head as he spent inside of Eskel. His entire body shuddered and rippled as he came under Eskel’s hands, something shimmering just beneath the surface of his skin. Jaskier dropped his head into the crook of Eskel’s shoulder, pressing his lips softly to the tender flesh as his spend leaked past the tight seal of his cock.

They both ran their hands slowly over each other, soothing overexerted muscles and lust-hazy minds. Jaskier hummed quietly, still nestled against Eskel’s neck and laying atop him, though Eskel really couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He swallowed thickly and rolled them over, holding Jaskier tightly to him and pressing his lips to his shoulder.

“That was...really nice,” Eskel’s voice was husky and cock-drunk, and he could feel the gentle blanket of sleep falling over his eyes.

Jaskier hummed and squeezed Eskel tighter against him as his softening cock slipped from the tight embrace of Eskel’s entrance. “Truly. You’ve rendered me near speechless.”

Eskel hummed with a sleepy smile, nestling his nose into the soft brown locks of Jaskier’s hair that just barely tickled his throat. “Stay tonight?”

He felt the muscles shift beneath his hands as Jaskier twisted around and pulled the lamp cord, bathing the room in darkness before tugging his throw blanket around them. “Sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake.”

As he drifted into the comfortable embrace of a well-earned rest, Eskel knew that he had somehow stumbled into one of the most exceptional people that had ever walked the Earth, and that he wasn’t letting him go any time soon.

#wrsb #witcher rarepair summer bingo #eskel #jaskier #jaskel #eskel/jaskier #smut #incubus #modern au #intersex jaskier #magical genitalia

[chemist-ana]

Catch up here.

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Mason, Mickey, Robin

Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)

Rating: 18+

Content Warning: Adult Language but so frickin fluffy

Summary: The vows and ceremony are finally underway.

Word Count: 3388

All characters belong to Pixelberry except for a cross over with The Hunted Series by Ivy Smoak and my OCs

A/N: You guys, this chapter has been a long time coming, and I have officially decided to end this series with this chapter, but don't you worry- I have so many plans for Ana, Sam, and even Robin. This chapter is all the fluff I hope you can handle, and I really enjoyed writing about the start of this love story. Thank you for the ones that have stuck with me on this writing journey. I hope you stick around for the rest. A big shout out to @txemrn for always being my number one cheerleader and helping me through the places I got stuck even if you don’t like Sam 🤪

And with that, I present to you, the finale of It Goes On...

My eyes slowly roam the curves of my reflection in the ornately framed full length mirror, lingering on every detail of the Pnina Tornai lace gown. My fingers reach up and delicately trace the outline of the emeralds and diamonds that lay on my neck. The conversations of my nearest and dearest friends seem to fade away in the final moments before I become a Dalton. I take a deep breath, a smile spreads across my stained lips.

“This is really happening.” I say breathlessly.

“Yes, beautiful, this is really happening.” Jenny is at my side with a glass of champagne twirling around in her manicured fingers. “And it’s almost time.” She reaches up and straightens a lock of my hair.

I walk towards the curtained window that is the only thing that separates us from our loved ones that mingle on the other side. I pull back the sheer white fabric and peek out, everyone has been seated, the St. Patrick's Cathedral standing tall over the garden that is adorned with greenery and white roses. The ivory spires a stark contrast against the blue of the sky.  I hold my breath as Sam, Mason, and Mickey emerge from a side door, Sam’s eyes find mine through the window with a lopsided grin. I turn back towards the sound of Justin’s voice as he claps his hands.

“It’s time, ladies. Bridesmaids, follow me.”

Jenny ghosts a kiss across my cheek. “See you out there.” She turns and follows Justin out of the room.

“Don’t lock your knees, a dear friend told me on my wedding day, it makes you faint.” Penny gives me a quick hug. “You look beautiful, Ana.”

“Thanks for the advice.” I laugh as she steps away, following Jenny. I turn to Monica, who is dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

“Don’t you dare start crying, Monica.”

She gives me a rueful smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy for you. I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through together, that I am standing here as your maid of honor on your wedding day.” She walks up to me grabbing both of my hands. “I love you so much.”

“Now, Ms. Maid of Honor.” Justin chimes.

“I love you, Moni.”

She wraps me in a quick hug before she walks out of the room. I peak out of the window again, watching as Monica takes Robin’s arm and they make their way down the aisle, a blush on Monica’s cheeks. I internally roll my eyes before I hear a soft knock on the door behind me.

I turn and I see my father.

“I was told to come get you.” His face lights up in a smile. “You look so beautiful, Apple.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I walk over to him and gently take his offered arm. My eyes linger on the lace detail of my dress, until I feel his eyes on me.  I lift my gaze until our matching emerald eyes meet.

“My dear, sweet, Anastasia.” He pauses as he dabs at the tears that are welling in his eyes, his voice soft. “I am the luckiest man alive to have you as my daughter. I am so unbelievably proud of you. You will have everything you want in this world. I knew it from when I first held you in my arms. I knew you would take it all, and hold it tight. You are one of the strongest people I will ever have the pleasure of knowing. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

I felt the tears in my eyes. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, Ana.”

“It’s time.” Justin says as he pops his head into the room with a smile.

“Well, shall we?” My dad asks with a grin.

“Let’s do it.” I smile up at him as we walk out of the door arm in arm. I could feel the small tremors in my fathers arm as the aisle and all of our guests came into view. Everything fades away when I see him though, standing at the end of the aisle under a white rose covered arch, his smile wider than I have ever seen it.

At this moment, I know that this is love. I can feel it in every single fiber of my being. Sam’s smile grounds me, as my father and I walk down the aisle together. We come to a stop and my dad turns me towards him.

“Anastasia, I love you.” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

“I love you, Dad.”

He squeezes my hand one last time before I turn around and I take Sam’s outstretched hand, that all too familiar electricity arced between us, the instinctive recognition that we had been made to fit together perfectly. I look down at the twins that are standing on either side of him and they flash me a big smile and a thumbs up. My gaze draws back to Sam’s dark eyes as I step up and he squeezes both of my hands in his.

I do not hear a word the pastor says as I get lost in his eyes, noticing how the sun reflects the specks of gold. My eyes drift down to his lips as the corners lift up in a small smile. He turns away from me for a moment and I see Robin hand him something. When he turns back towards me, his face has softened.

“Anastasia,” he says as he slides my wedding band onto my finger. He pauses for a second and I watch his Adam's apple rise and fall. "You once asked me if I was a believer in fate. I wasn't. But I am now because of you. When you walked into my office I had no idea that my life was about to change forever. Your persistence and stubbornness and brilliance and beauty brought me to my knees after only knowing you for a few months. And now here we are. I know that we can get through anything together, I know that we're strong enough together.

"I'm crazy about you and I can't wait for our future. I can't wait for our lives together with you as my wife. You make me want to be a better man for you. You are the air I breathe. You are the dreams I dream. You are the light of my life. I'm consumed by your brilliance and beauty, inside and out. I'm the lucky one. And I don't know why you picked me. But I'm grateful every day. When I wake up every morning and see your face, I'm reminded that I am the luckiest man alive. All that is mine is now yours. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love from this moment on as long as we both shall live.”

I try and fail to blink back tears.

“Don’t cry, my love.”  He reaches up and runs his thumb softly across my cheek. “I hate seeing you cry.”

“They are happy tears.” I laugh softly. I take a deep breath before I turn around and Monica hands me Sam’s wedding band. I tuck it into my palm before I reach out for his hands, our fingers intertwined again in front of us. His thumb rubs the back of my hand and a sense of calm rushes over me. I get lost in his magnetic brown eyes before I speak the truest words I have ever spoken.

“I will spend my whole life loving you, Samuel.” I pause as I slide his wedding band onto his finger, goosebumps rising on my skin. I take a deep breath and my eyes lock on his. “There is no me without you. You have been my rock, my safe place, since the moment we first met. I knew, in that moment, that my heart was yours and yours was mine. Sam, I love you with everything that I am. When I look at you, I still get stars in my eyes. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I love you more and more each day. You have brought more joy into my life than I ever thought was possible, between you and your incredibly loving boys, my arms are full, but my heart is fuller.

“You have consumed my every thought, my every dream. You have pierced my soul. I want to wake up beside you every morning. I want to spend every evening looking at you at the dinner table. I want to fall asleep next to you every night. You are the source of my joy, the center of my world, and the whole of my heart. I love you, Sam and every fiber of me I give to you for as long as we both shall live.”

Sam takes his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes shine with unshed tears. He shakes his head slightly, whispering a silent, ‘god, I love you’.

“Samuel, do you take Anastasia to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold until death do you part?” The pastor says.

Sam smiles down at me. “I do.”

“Anastasia, do you take Samuel as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold until death do you part?”

“I do.” I can barely contain the excitement in my voice.

“Then by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

“Finally, you’re mine.” He smiles and pulls me into his arms pressing a heated kiss to my lips as our guests erupt in cheers. To hell with etiquette. I grab his lapels and deepen the kiss as his hands slide down my body pulling me against his chest. Whistles sounded from where our bridal party was standing, but I didn’t care. When we finally pull away from each other I can feel the blush that has creeped up my cheeks. I reach up and touch my lips as Sam looks down at me. My chest tightens at the look he is giving me and in this moment, I am absolutely, irrevocably, happy.

“We’re married.”

“Yes, we are.” He bends down and scoops me up in his arms, carrying me down the aisle as I laugh. I caught my mom's eye as tears fell down her face. Mickey and Mason run up besides Sam, and together as a family we walk into the groom suite. He sets me down on my feet and I take a step back, allowing me to kneel down and pull Mason and Mickey into my sides for a hug.

“Mom, that was so pretty.” Mason’s smile was wide.

“Yeah, it was perfect.” Mickey nodded with a matching smile.

“Oh boys, thank you.” I looked back and forth between their handsome, smiling, faces and pulled them back into a hug. “I love you boys, so much.”

“We love you, too.”

A soft knock interrupts the moment and I look over to see Robin standing in the door with a smile. “I was told to come and get you for photos.”

I look back and forth between the twins, “Are you boys ready to go take some pictures?”

“Only if we get to do one goofy one.” Mickey chimes.

“I would expect nothing less.” I say standing up.

They turn and run out the door and I take Sam’s hand, twisting our fingers together. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Let’s do this, Mrs. Dalton.”

“I really like the sound of that.”

“Me too, baby.”

***

“Ladies and Gentleman, may I present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Dalton!”

I scrunch my face up with a smile, feeling giddy at the fact that I am officially his and he is officially mine. Sam grabs my hand and holds it in the air as we walk back out to the garden together to the raucous applause and cheers from our guests. The space that once held our ceremony had been transformed for our reception, and I made a mental note to thank Justin, because it was spectacular.

Sam gives me a twirl before guiding me over to our sweetheart table. He pulls out my chair and I flash him a grateful smile when he sits down next to me. I hear the clinking of silverware on a glass and I look over to see Monica giving me a coy smile. I lean in and press my lips to Sams, our eyes lingering on each other as we slowly break away.

I hear someone clear their throat over the speaker and Sam and I turn to see Robin holding a mic and grinning at us. I cast a nervous glance over at Sam.

“He better not say anything embarrassing.” I whisper.

“Knowing him he is definitely going to say something embarrassing, and I’m probably going to have to apologize.” He sets his lips in a thin line as Robin begins his speech.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He pauses for effect with a lopsided grin. “You know, Sam isn’t my brother by blood, but him and I grew up inseparable until his parents were gracious enough to take me in. Him and I have been through a lot together and for the longest time, no one knew Sam like I did. Now? It’s a different story. The lovely Ana is probably the only person at this point that knows Sam better than I do. She’s the only person to really get him to break down his walls. It’s probably the fact that she is so damn beautiful.”

I spit the champagne that I was sipping back into the glass. What in the actual fuck, Rob. A few people laughed nervously, my eyes flicked to Mason and Mickey who were talking between each other and fortunately didn’t hear it.

“Or maybe it was the whole boss/hot nanny thing, I mean sneaking around, the forbidden aspect of it. It’s hot, who could resist? I know we can joke about it now-“

Sam clears his throat and I know I am blushing furiously.

Robin laughs. “Sorry, Sam, but honestly, anyone who knows these two can tell it’s a deeper connection than anything physical. I’ve never seen a couple that cares so unconditionally for each other. I knew when these two met, that it was going to be impossible to tear them apart. Ana, I love you like a sister and Sam, I love you man. I look up to you and I am so happy that you finally found someone that makes you as happy as you deserve to be. You two are adored by all and I wish you a lifetime of happiness. Cheers.”

Sam smiles and shakes his head as we clink our glasses together. “I’m so sorry.” He leans down and  whispers in my ear.

“Well that’s going to be hard to follow.” Monica steps up and takes the mic from Robin who flashes her a wink and she blushes. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Monica. I have been Ana’s best friend since we were… hmm 3?” She pauses as there is a small laugh. “We were inseparable until our passions took us to different grad schools, and then she moved to New York. I still remember the day that Ana first told me about Sam, I also remember the obstacles that faced these two if he really was as special as she said he was.

“These two have faced insurmountable obstacles, but have come out on top. Ana. You are my best friend, the sister that I never had, and you deserve the absolute best. I know without a doubt that Sam is that for you. You each bring out the best parts of each other. And I am so lucky to be a witness to your love story. Sam, you have proven to be worthy of my best friend, treating her with the love and respect that she deserves, make sure that never changes. With that, let’s raise our glasses to the happy couple, cheers to Ana and Sam.”

I give Monica a grateful smile as she raises her glass at me. The rest of dinner passes by in a blur of joyful laughs and tears. Mason Senior's speech brings smiles to everyone’s face as he recalls an embarrassing story about Sam, and after my fathers speech, I don’t think there was a dry eye in the room. Sam's hand remained firmly in my lap as his fingers toyed with the rings on my finger. Our occasional stolen glances were only outnumbered by the delicate kisses we shared. Just when I didn’t feel like my heart could get any fuller, he would look at me like that, and my chest would tighten.

When the live band signals the start of the dances, a tinge of sadness hits me as I realize this perfect night is inching closer to its conclusion. I look over at Sam, taking his offered hand with a grateful smile. He leads me onto the dance floor, lifting his arm and twirling me gracefully into his strong chest as the live band begins to play our song. The smell of his cologne, the warmth from his body, and the ethereal atmosphere, make me feel like I am living in a dream.

The band's singer croons out the lyrics to Can’t Help Falling In Love and my heart feels like it's about to burst. I lean back slightly so I can look up into his eyes. “Today is perfect.” I reach up and cup his cheek.

“Today is the best day of my life.” He responds as he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.

I rest my cheek against his chest, as he softly sings the lyrics.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes somethings are meant to be...”

He lifts his hand and twirls me around again before dipping me and bringing me tight to his chest again.

“So take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.” He sings against my lips, our swaying long since forgotten as everything else fades away.

As the sweet melody fades away, everyone erupts in cheers and whistles, but my gaze lingers on his deep brown eyes.

“I love you, Sam.” I whisper.

“I love you, Ana.” He whispers back.

Mason and Mickey are at our sides a moment later, and the band starts an upbeat version of ‘You’ll Be in My Heart’. I grab Mason’s hand and spin him around. The sound of his laughter rings out over the music as we dance as a family of four.

***

I close my eyes and focus on the steady beat of his heart. The sounds of the city far below us, as we slowly sway to a rhythm only in our minds.

“Well, I think today could not have been any more perfect.” His voice was low.

I look up into his dark eyes as a gentle smile plays on his lips, his fingers trace delicate circles across the back of my neck.

“It was absolutely perfect.” I smile and rest my cheek back on his chest.

I look around the now-empty rooftop garden, clinging to the final moments of my wedding day, as sweet memories flash through my mind.

“You are the most sensational woman I have ever laid eyes on, and I cannot believe that you are finally all mine.”

I sigh. “Mrs. Dalton has a great ring to it.”

He wraps his arms around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.

Movement at the edge of the garden catches my attention and I see Mickey stepping out onto the rooftop.

“Mickey.” Robin and Monica appear behind him and he ushers Mickey back inside. “Not tonight, buddy.” I hear Robin murmur as he puts his arm around Mickey’s shoulder. I flash Robin a grateful smile and he winks, disappearing behind the curtained window.

“So what’s next Mr. Dalton?” I ask as I lean away from him and look up into his deep brown eyes.

His hands drop down to the small of my back, pulling my hips into his.

“Forever.”

Tag list: @txemrn @lifeaskim @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @choicesficwriterscreations @thefrenchiemama @shewillreadyou@melalicious8383 @somersetmummy @nestledonthaveone

#choices the stories you play #the nanny affair #choices sam dalton #samdalton

[sgtbradfords]

“I can’t do this.” Chenford prompt. You’re writing is amazing.

It's finally here!! I've teased this fic the past few days and I'm so glad to finally share it!! Anon, I just want to thank you for this prompt. My muse was beyond thrilled and never wanted to stop :) I hope you guys love it just as much as I do. I’ve inserted a read more link due to the length of this fic.

Tim Bradford stood in the hallway of the beach house, his back pressed against the light-colored wall, the fitted dark grey tuxedo a stark contrast to the paint behind him. The black suspenders underneath the suit jacket was digging into his shoulders, the tie that rested under the collar and around his neck, feeling as though it was constricting his airway. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

He felt at his pants pocket before reaching in, glancing both ways for anyone coming as he grasped the smooth metal flask, pulling it out. He flipped the clasp, taking a long shot of the amber liquid, letting the flavors of the smoky whiskey savor his taste buds before pocketing the flask once again. He knew he should not have come, but the smile that has graced her face for the past eight months was worth every bit of heartache. He told himself he would stay for the ceremony, hide out in the back of the outdoor gathering, slipping away before any of their friends could notice.

“Hey.” Angela Lopez-Evers said, pulling him out of his thoughts as she rounded the corner from the living room.

Tim gave her a once over, “What are you wearing?”

“It’s called a dress dumbass.”

“Mommy, that���s three dollars in the swear jar.” Max said as he swung her hand back and forth.

“Thank you honey.” Angela told the four-year-old before glaring at Tim.

Tim chuckled. “Shouldn’t you be in there helping her?”

“She told us she needed a few minutes alone and, I had to run through what this little guy’s job is one more time.”

“Why do’s they call it a ring bearer if there is no bears?” asked the child.

“That’s a good question Max-a-million, Uncle Tim’s been married before, maybe he knows.” Angela smiled back at her friend who smiled at the child, crouching down next to his godson.

“Uncle Tim!” he exclaimed, his eyes growing wide. “You’re married?! Is it to Aunt Lucy?!”

Tim’s smile dropped, the comment making his heart violently lurch, the muscle feeling heavier and tighter than it had all day. “No,” he said, clearing is throat. “no buddy I was married, a long time ago.”

“To Aunt Lucy?”

“No,” he said again, looking to Angela for help. “no, her name was Isabel. Aunt Lucy is marrying Emmett. You remember him, right? He’s a firefighter.” Tim told him, fighting the scowl on his face at the man’s occupation.

“Yeah, he’s ok but Mommy said Aunt Lucy can do better than him.”

Angela’s eyes grew wide. “Max Benjamin Evers! Was that not an adult conversation?”

Max pouted, knowing he had been caught. “Yes mommy. I sorry.”

“It’s ok mi alegría, but baby sometimes adults have conversations that are made to not be repeated, ok? Now,” she said looking at the decorative clock on the wall. “we’ve got twenty minutes before we have to be down the aisle, so let’s go potty one more time and maybe Daddy has an answer for your question. Tell Uncle Tim you will see him later.”

The boy lunged at the man’s legs. “Bye’s Uncle Tim.”

Tim patted the child’s back, “Bye buddy.”

“Hey,” Angela said, looking at Tim as she grabbed her son’s hand. “go in there, she might could use a friendly face.”

Tim stared at his friend, giving a slight nod as she walked away. ‘That’s the last thing I want to do.’ He thought as his body made the choice for him, turning and moving him towards the door. He felt like he stood there for hours, the internal conflict in his head making time stand still as he rose a hand, his knuckles rapping on the wooden door.

“Come in.” he heard her soft voice say. He took a deep breath, his hand turning the knob as he slipped into the room.

“Hey boot.” He said, shutting the door as he plastered on a fake and happy smile. “You ready?”

Lucy stood in front of the floor length mirror, her hands ironing out the non-existent wrinkles. “Tim.” She breathily spoke as she looked up, turning around to face him.

Tim stopped staring at the woman in front of him, his lungs losing the air to breath as he took her in.  

Her dress looked to be a perfect fit, being made of white lace, with a miniscule amount of ivory tulle underneath. The gown reaching the floor, giving way to a small train in the back. The front was a-line, with a tan silhouette in the middle, casted with small white petals, the lacy sleeves falling down her arms, reaching her wrists in a delicate design. Her hair was gathered in the back, pulled into a low bun that was accented by a comb that was made of glass pearls and metal leaves, a small ivory flower offset to the side. Her face was framed by a few strands of her gently curled brown hair. Her make-up light and natural save for the deep burgundy color staining her lips.

“How do I look?” she asked as she moved a curl behind her ear, nervously glancing at the floor.

Tim was at a loss for words, “Beautiful.” He couldn’t help but whisper in awe.

Lucy blushed as she took him in, “Thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Tim couldn’t take his eyes off her, moving closer. “You never answered my question Chen, maybe you should do a few burpees before you walk down the aisle to get your brain going.” he joked.

Lucy turned around quickly, facing the mirror once more, taking a deep and shaky breath as she stared at the floor.

“Chen?” he asked, immediately picking up on her reaction as he watched her begin to fidget with the band on her left hand. Concern filled him as his feet moved forward on their own accord, leaving a small gap behind her. “Lucy?”

“I can’t do this.” She told him as her tear-filled eyes met his in the mirror. “I thought- the past few weeks I’ve thought maybe it was just the stress of the job and planning a wedding or maybe a case of cold feet but this, this isn’t that.”

“Don’t cry.” He softly spoke, reaching for the silk pocket square in his pocket as he moved in front of her, using the cloth gently, catching the few tears that had fallen before handing the handkerchief over to her. “What do you mean you can’t do this?”

“I mean I can’t- I don’t love him Tim, not like I should. He deserves- he deserves someone that gives him butterflies when they walk into the room, he deserves someone else worth of his love.” She told him, sniffling.

“I think you’re overthinking this Chen. Emmett, I promise he loves you, how-.” Tim stopped himself, biting his tongue to keep in what he so desperately wanted to say.

“No. You don’t understand, I can’t marry him. I don’t love-”

Tim moved closer to her, gazing into her eyes. “Ok, ok. Take a deep breath.” He instructed, as she inhaled and exhaled once, twice deeply. “Good.” He whispered. “Now, what do you want to do?”

She stared back, her hands nervously wringing the silk fabric she had been given. “Were you serious?”

He arched an eyebrow, asking his former rookie to elaborate.

“When- when you offered to help me run away?”

Tim looked at her incredulously before realizing she was serious.

“You want to go?” he asked running a hand down his face as she nodded. “And you’re sure?”

“I don’t want this marriage to end up as a statistic Tim.”

“Ok.” He said, giving himself time to fine the right words. “Ok, let me go find and tell Angela and we can-” He said as he turned around, making his way to the door, his hand on the handle.

“No!” she yelled. “No, go get Emmett. He deserves to be told in person. I owe it to him to tell him face to face.”

Tim turned back around. “I’m going to ask again, are you sure?”

“Yes.” She told him soundly.

“Ok.” He whispered back, giving her one last look as he opened the door.

What felt like an eternity to Lucy was five minutes, a knock on the door interrupting her thoughts as she stood in front of the bay window that looked out towards the Pacific Ocean. “Come in.”

Emmett stepped through the door, a nervous smile on his face as he kept a hand over his eyes. “This is supposed to be bad luck Lucy.”

Lucy smiled at him as she wiped away another stray tear that had escaped. He looked perfect, the light grey suit he wore making him look every bit of Mr. Right.

“Emmett…”

Emmett opened his eyes, hearing the tone in her voice, his nervous smile faltering. “Lucy.” He breathed her name as he took in his fiancée. “We’re not going to make it down that aisle, are we?”

Lucy shook her head as the tears welled in her eyes once again. “I’m sorry.”

Emmett nodded as he sat down, the silence of the room deafening save for the faint noise of voices coming from the garden at the side of the house where the ceremony was set to take place. “You love him,” his voice becoming a whisper as if he were revealing a secret. “don’t you.”

Fresh tears began to fall as she slid off her engagement ring, the jewelry feeling like a ton of bricks in the palm of her hand. “I wish I didn’t.”

“We can’t help who we love.” He told her as he stared at the ring, gently reaching out to take it back.

“Emmett, I love- loved you. But-“

“—not the way you love him.”

“I’m sor-“

Emmett stood, turning towards the door, his hand grasping the metal and rock so hard it began digging into his skin. “Don’t.”

Lucy nodded her head, moving to her bag in the corner. “Here, take this.” She told him, reaching the for the two slips of paper she was holding on to. “Go on our honeymoon. I can’t- I don’t-.”

Emmett took the tickets hesitantly, sliding them into his jacket pocket. “Lucy… I understand but don’t expect me to forgive.”

“I’ll send Angela to get my things tomorrow.”

Emmett nodded as he laughed sadly. “Well, we’ve got fifty-two people waiting for a ceremony outside. I guess I should let them know there’s free food in the tent.”

“Blame it on me, make sure they know it was me.” She pleaded, adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

Emmett nodded. “Goodbye Lucy. I hope he knows just what he’s missing out on.”

“Goodbye Emmett.” Lucy said softly, walking out the door.

Lucy grabbed her dress in her left hand as she ran to the door, wanting to leave quickly before word got out about the runaway bride. She opened the door, the late afternoon sun casting light onto everything it touched. She kept her sights set ahead as her eyes tried to adjust to the bright lights, running towards the driveway in front of the steps that led to the house which is where she found Tim. He stood, waiting, both of his hands in a pocket as he leaned against his truck parked in the center of the drive. Gone were his tie and jacket, the top button on his dress shirt was popped open and the aviators he wore on his nose showing everything he was seeing.

Tim moved off the metal, his hand ready to open the door of the cab as she approached. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You ready to go?” he asked as Lucy nodded in return.

Tim stared at her, the bright sunlight from the California sun beating down on the woman standing in front of him, giving her a halo, making her look even more beautiful. “Can I ask one question and I promise to never ask again? Why?”

Lucy bit her lip, taking a moment to choose her words carefully as she stared into the eyes of the knight standing in front of her, taking a deep breath. “He’s not the one I love.”

Tim’s face went from curiosity to understanding as a small smile overtook him. He helped her into the truck, closing the door, making sure all the fabric was inside the cab.

“Bradford!” Jackson West yelled from the door of the house, hurrying down the brick paver sidewalk with a large suitcase in hand. Tim turned, glancing back at the woman in his passenger seat as she gave him a shaky smile, nodding as her best friend and man-of-honor rushed towards them. “Where are you two going?”

“Where ever she wants.”

Jackson looked at Lucy as she sat in the truck, noticing a peaceful look on her face for the first time in months. He gave her a crooked grin as he extended his hand carrying the suitcase. “Just… watch her six for me, ok?”

Tim smiled at the brotherly threat, taking the large travel bag. “Always.” He said as a loud noise from the garden made its way around the front. “That’s probably her mother.” He grimaced. “I’ll deal with her, you guys get out of here.”

Tim turned back around, going around the truck to open the door behind his, throwing her bag into the backseat before quickly throwing open his own door, buckling before throwing the gear shift into drive and speeding out of the driveway.

After a few miles, of nothing but main streets, Lucy began to fumble with the radio, turning it up as a constant sound of her phone ringing began filling the cab.

“Hand it here.” He said as he extended his palm.

“What? No! What if-“

“Luce, if you don’t want to have to deal with your phone exploding with messages and missed calls, you’ll hand it here.”

Lucy grumbled, knowing he was right. Tim powered the device down, sticking it into the center console. “If they need you, they can call me.”

“What about- you know what you’re right.”

“Always am.”

“Smartass.” She mumbled as he smirked. “You wanna know a secret?”

Tim grunted, signaling his turn on the interstate.

Lucy began to gather the skirt of her dress, lifting it till mid-thigh. Tim focused on keeping his eyes on the road but failed when a flash of black lace around her left thigh caught his attention. He cleared his throat, an attempt to nonverbally ask, ‘What the hell are you doing?’

“Ha!” she said in victory, removing something from the other thigh.

Tim glanced over. “Chen- Lucy, is that a gun?”

“Yup.” She said proudly as she undone the straps of the thigh holster.

Tim laughed at her. “You we’re going to be packing heat at your own wedding?”

Lucy shrugged, releasing the clip as she pulled the slide back, the extra bullet falling into the lace of her dress. “Why not? Besides, are you carrying?” she judged, putting the clip back in before putting it into the handbag on the floor.

Tim slowed down, setting the truck on cruise control, as he kept an eye on the road ahead. He moved his right foot off the pedal and back, slightly lifting his pants leg before pulling out a small gun of his own.

“Is that a P365?” she asked with a gasp.

Tim nodded, “Bought it a few weeks ago.” He told her before he felt the gun disappear out of his hands.

“And you didn’t think to tell me!”

“I’ve only had it a few weeks and I have taken it to the range once, keep up with the class Chen.”

She let the weight of the gun settle in her hand. “I was going to buy one but you know, wedding and all that.” She told him as she handed the gun back over to Tim, who fastened it back into place. “Where are we going anyways?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?”

Lucy snorted. “What is with all the sass today Sergeant Bradford?”

Tim smiled as he took the exit he needed. She knew what he was doing as he pulled into the parking lot, parking on the side of the building before throwing the truck into park.

“This ok?”

“It’s prefect.” She said, smiling at him.

He returned the smile before getting out of the cab, making his way back around to her side of the truck.

“M’Lady” he said offering her a hand.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Ok, something has clearly taken you hostage. Can I please have my Tim Bradford back?” She asked, placing her hand in his as she put a foot on the running board, leaning forward. Her body lunged towards Tim as her foot misjudged where it was landing, stepping on the dress causing her to slip. Tim easily caught her as she fell into his arms, “Your Tim Bradford?” He questioned, arching a brow at her before moving on. “I guess I will always just have to catch you, huh boot?” he asked before letting her go.

Lucy wanted to answer, but choose to give a secretive smile instead.

They walked into the restaurant, the few early dinner customers turning their heads in curiosity at the dressed-up couple.

“Good Evening Mr. and Mrs.?” the hostess greeted from behind the podium.

“Bradford.” Tim said quickly.

“Oh we’re not-“ Lucy began saying at the same time.

“Well, congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Bradford.” The hostess genuinely smiled, grabbing the menus. “If you both will follow me to your table, we’ll get you seated. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Lucy walked ahead as Tim placed a hand on her back, both taking in their surroundings, cataloging the patrons and exits though they have eaten at the restaurant countless times.

The hostess seated them away from the other patrons, guessing the ‘newlyweds’ would like some privacy.

Neither looked at the menu, both knowing what they were ordering before their waitress came.

“A veggie burger with fries, extra pickles. Oh! And with a strawberry milkshake please.”

“House burger, no tomato with fries and extra pickles because she always eats mine. Also give me a strawberry milkshake as well.”

They talked, Tim telling her about the drama going on outside the room and house she had been in not even an hour ago.

“So, what did they do?”

“Honestly? You’re better off not knowing.” He told her, wrinkling his nose in disgust before taking a sip of his milkshake. “Must you do the fry thing? It should be a crime.”

Lucy finished dipping her fry into her shake, popping it into her mouth. “You going to arrest me Sergeant?” she asked him, raising an eyebrow in question as Tim playfully glared. “Besides, I am missing out on my wedding cake, which seriously tasted like heaven so, I damn will do and eat as I please.” She informed him as she grabbed another fry, dipping it into the whipped cream.

Thirty minutes later, their stomachs were full, Lucy laughing as Tim threw a napkin at her.

“Excuse me.” Came a quiet voice. Both of them startling after being engrossed in one another. “I hate to intrude but my name is Judith Wilson, and I’m the owner of the restaurant, I think I’ve seen you two in here before, haven’t I?”

“Yes ma’am, Ms. Wilson. We come here quiet often.”

The older woman gave them a warm grin. “Not to be one of those old Grandma’s but my Petey has been gone a few years now, and you young man remind me so much of him.” She said, causing Tim’s skin to tinge pink. “Anyways, I wish your marriage lots of love and happiness. And babies, you’ve both got such good genes.”

Tim turned, hiding his face as Lucy took pity and spoke. “Thank you Ms. Wilson.”

“You two get on out of here, the night’s still young.” She winked. “Your bill has already been paid for.”

“Oh, there’s no need for-“

“Nonsense.” She said brushing them off. “But I do have one request before you two leave, can I get your picture? I would love to hang it over the back counter.” She gestured towards the wall covered in memories.

Tim glanced at Lucy as she smiled, “We would love that.”

A few posed pictures later, Tim and Lucy were on their way. A slow ride in rush hour getting them to Tim’s house forty-five minutes later.

Tim grabbed the travel bag of out the back as they both exited the truck, Lucy gathering the skirt in her dress, landing on both feet.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he rounded the vehicle, suitcase in one hand, his suit jacket in the other.

“I’m carrying your bag inside?” he told her as if it was the most obvious thing.

“I see that, but why?”

Tim raised an eyebrow as he looked her up and down, Lucy realizing she was still dressed to the nines. “Right. Wedding dress, homeless, kinda forgot over the past few hours.”

Tim unlocked the house, carrying her case to his spare room, setting it on the bed before turning to leave.

“Hey Tim.” She said softly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime Luce.”

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows. “That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

“Is it? Huh, didn’t notice.” He told her, fibbing around the edges. He knew, but he wasn’t about to tell her that, the nickname slipping off the tip of his tongue as easily as his other nickname for her does, both holding the same meaning.

She would have called him out on it had it not been for the ringing of the doorbell, a panicked expression falling on her face. “Please let that be someone we don’t know.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he left the room. “Do you think strangers stop by my house often Chen?”

Lucy stayed in the spare room, gently pulling the pins and comb out of her hair, the sound of voices she recognized coming closer.

“Hey.” Angela spoke as she stepped into the room. “Bradford said you might need some help?”

“Lopez, thank God.” Lucy said as she wrapped her friend in a hug. “I thought I would have to ask Tim.”

Angela pulled back. “I don’t think he would have minded.” She said causing the other woman to blush. “Now, turn around Chen and let’s get this off you, there’s a cranky four-year-old finally asleep in the backseat of my car.” Angela told her as she began undoing the lace buttons in the back.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done today Ang.”

“That’s what friends are for Lucy.” She assured. “But let’s talk about you for a minute.”

Lucy cringed, knowing what was coming. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, you became a runaway bride today. Though, thanks for the reception, the food was absolutely amazing. My point being, do you know what you’re doing Lucy?”

Lucy thought about lying, as she worked the dress down her body, the fabric bundling in the floor. “I love him.” She whispered the confession as she unzipped her suitcase still on the bed, digging for more comfortable clothes she hoped she would have packed for her honeymoon.

“I know and I know he feels the same way about you, but Chen, if you ever break his heart or pull a stunt like this again…”

She found an old shirt, shrugging at not remembering packing the old academy shirt as she slipped it over her head. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

Angela filled Lucy in about her mother’s antics as she slipped into a pair of leggings.

Lucy rolled her eyes as she opened the door, walking out. “I’ll send her a fruit basket.”

Lucy walked into the living room, finding Wesley and Tim standing at the door, Wesley keeping an eye on the cranked car in the drive.

“Thanks for coming by Wesley, I think I’d have been stuck all night if Angela hadn’t of come to my rescue.” Lucy told him, wrapping him in a quick hug.

“Don’t thank me.” He said as he pulled back as he nodded his head to Tim. “He’s the one that messaged Ang.”

Lucy looked at Tim, who she had noticed had at some point changed clothes as well, staring at him as he turned and walked into the kitchen.

“We better get going, Max somehow has cake icing in his hair and it needs to be washed out.”

Lucy seen them out of the house, waving goodbye as she stood on the front porch.

“Hey.” Tim said joining her, a white box in his hand. “They had to go?”

“Yeah, thank you for having them come by. The dress was starting to get itchy and I was afraid I would have to wear it the rest of the night.”

“I could have helped you out of it.” He told her, Lucy blushing at his words.  “Not like that, not right now at least.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

Tim arched an eyebrow. “I brought you here didn’t I?”

“You did. What are you hiding behind your back?”

Tim moved his hand from behind his back, revealing the white box in hand, handing it over. “I had Wesley bring you something.”

Lucy looked from Tim to the box, opening the box as she gasped.  “My cake!”

Tim nervously rubbed the back of his neck “You said you wanted some so I had Wesley grab a couple of slices.”

Lucy smiled, looking from the large slices of cake in her hand to the man standing in front of her as she stood on her tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I’m tired of saying thank you today so I’m going to go get us two forks, and then, you and me are going to enjoy this cake.”

Tim reached into his back pocket, puling out two metal forks, handing one over.

“Getting ahead of yourself, weren’t you Bradford?” she asked as she sat down, sitting the box on the wooden deck. “Who said I was willing to share?“

Tim sighed as she moved, sitting on the other side of the box, leaning his back against the wall. “Lucky guess.”

That night the two sat on the deck of his house, eating her cake, the air around them turning cool as the asphalt and concrete chilled.

“You were right?”

“About?”

“The cake.”

“It’s heaven right? I’d almost say it’s better than sex.”

Tim choked on the bite in his mouth, causing Lucy to giggle. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.” He said hoarsely.

“No, I’m not.”

That day was a lot of things, for Lucy it was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter in her life but instead it was the closing of a chapter, not a failed one but a re-written one. For Tim, the day started out as one of dread, of a lost opportunity but ended with the hope of a second chance. Things that day may have happened by the seat of their pants, but in the end, it was a brand-new beginning for the both of them.

#the rookie fic #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fic #chenford fanfic #chenford #fanfic

[docholligay]

Doc how would teenage Michiru have handled Yuzuriha's hammy attempts to flirt with her?

MIchiru Kaioh had never a single desire to go to Catholic school, much less one with an elevated sense of self-importance and the audacious belief that ivory and white ought to be worn together on the same uniform, and yet here she was, albeit very temporarily.

It was beneath her, Saint Angraecum. It was a place for children who were wealthy, of course, but there was no need for pedigree here, simply girls whose parents desired for them to have a Western education and for whom the Catholicism was not so much a deeply felt value as the window dressing that seemed to make the school properly continental.

She had begged her parents to allow her to attend school in France, instead, or even London--Cheltenham Ladies' would have taken her in an instant--and yet here she was at a school that only pretended to the throne with hurried promises of a better school in Tokyo from her parents.

These girls were not simply novices in the art of society, no, that might have been too easy to bear, but they were also novices in the art of lesbianism, and recognized Michiru for the expert that she was, and hitched their hopes onto her, as lover, or teacher, or uncertain of which it was they wanted. Those little twins had been following her around for a week, and the girl in the wheelchair had run over her toes twice at least, though in her case that might be a kind of flirting.

But the worst of it was her roommate. A silly, gawky thing that had the entire school quite flustered as romantic potential for reasons Michiru could not divine other than perhaps isolation and lack of available options. Which might be forgivable, if Yuzuriha didn't find herself endlessly charming, whatever self-aggrandizing speeches she might give to the fishtank.

"Michiru," Yuzuriha came into the room, "It's so nice to see a pretty girl when I come back to the room."

"Yes, well," MIchiru smoothed the dress on the hanger, shaking her head again at the lack of staff, "one might think that you would become inured to it, given these few weeks, and yet, delightfully, you have all the memory of your beloved fish."

Yuzuriha, hardly discouraged, sidled up beside her. "It's cold outside."

MIchiru said nothing, studiously avoiding looking at her.

"You know what makes me feel warm? When it's cold like this?"

"So near as I can tell from your constant breath, coffee and an egg salad sandwich," she turned around to face her, "May I help you, Yuzuriha?"

Yuzuriha tilted her head and smiled coyly at Michiru. "Maybe only you can," she reached out her hand and touched Michiru's cheek, "One bed is warmer than two."

"Really now." Michiru looked up at her, eyes barely raising to Yuzuriha's face. "Who do you think I am, one of the fruit twins? If you're looking to blush a cheek or wet a panty, you might do it elsewhere, and on someone young enough and fool enough to fall for it. I yet have unpacking to do."

"I mean, I--"

Michiru hung up a sweater with the force of punctuation. "Very well then. Take me, Yuzuriha Yatsushiro," she unbuttoned her blouse with an annoyed sigh, revealing a plunging bra in delicate pink lace, "This is what you want," she smiled, then, and took a step toward Yuzuriha, who nearly fell over backwards against the bed, "Is it not?"

She took Yuzuriha's arm and pulled her hand to Michiru's waist. "Unzip it. Unzip it and show me how to stay warm, Yuzuriha."

Yuzuriha's eyes were saucers, and she sat down on the bed quite without meaning to.

Michiru leaned in and kissed her deeply, soft lips commanding in way Yuzuriha could not have imagined, and her body tingled and grew hot as Michiru leaned onto the bed, leaned against her, one hand slipping up her skirt, the other unbuttoning her shirt, and then, those fingers rose up the leg and touched--

Yuzuriha turned and crawled off the other side of the bed, hitting the floor with a thunk.

"Yes," Michiru stood straight and began to button her blouse, "I rather thought so. Let's don't speak of this foolishness again, and you can go back to pining over Miss Komikado and flustering the children, but leave me quite out of it, do you understand?"

There was only a whimper from the other side of the bed.

#I had a bit about Yuzu talking about how foreign she looks #Michiru commenting that so near as she could tell a solid quarter of them were some breed of Japano-continental #and so she was was not nearly so special as she assumed #but in French though #but there was no right place for it

[sinfulsigh]

𝙰𝚂𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚇𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙽 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚂𝚄𝙱𝙻𝙸𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙻 𝙿𝙴𝚃𝙰𝙻𝚂

summery : he, who bloomed and ravished, sought euphoria in your high.

pairings : hanamaki takahiro x fem! reader

caution warnings : smut, nsfw, asphyxiation, marijuana

word count : 4.3k

He hated how your name felt against his tongue during an achroous downpour on a friable Monday afternoon; complaining how it’s harsh and jagged, as if it could shatter ivory molars. Your name sounded of foreign revolutions and fescennine opulence, a name he claims that static nymphs would own as they choke on nude snapdragons. So, he prefers to call you Hanaame, for the rain storm you lingered under and how he desperately wanted to pinch himself onto you for an eternity.

Delirious and illecebrous was his four o’ clock stare as he gazed at how your hair rests in heavy tussles against the rainfall, admiring how your uniform clung to to your statuesque body (exposing every soft curve and barbed edge of your anatomy); silently worshiping a sfumato muse with amaranthine forelsket that taunts him. Amid captivating midsummer showers, you were the luminary of his hazed, vain possessed reality that’s soaked in the trichromatic hues of explicit soaking. The tip of his fingers trembled lightly as they ghost over your skin, pulling away the hair that cascaded down your face—water droplets slowly descending from the ends of your hair and the curve of your face; baptising you in solstice sorrows.

“You look pretty this way,” Hanamaki informed with a honeyed, shy voice. His skin flushing the vast shades of peaches as it paints his flesh in warm tones.

You cusp your palm against his cheek, cherishing the warmth that radiates from his ambiance that felt strangely of smoke. You smiled at him, the gloss of your lips seeping into the cracks of your chapped lips as he melts in the softness of your voice, “You look beautiful in the tides of this storm.”

All he could do was stare at you with squinted eyes that are glazed in an amaranth hue. Hanamaki smirks as he allows your hand to linger for a second longer before moving his body onwards into the insouciant prisms of the storm. The light drum of thunder quaked your bones, setting the rhythm for your heart as you walked between the roars and screams of a malicious tempest.

Hanamaki’s home lingered somewhere between a busy street that is known for its dense population of hallowed bodies and rural authority of decayed forests. The lights in his home glowed with warm lights with silhouettes of his youngest sister dancing hazardously as the hem of her dress fluttered around her. You can see his mother lingering in the kitchen as the small, crystal windows placed emphasis on her beauty—her strawberry blonde hair tied into a tight bun as her nepenthe eyes rested downcast at the counter while she cut away at freshly plucked produce.

Hanamaki leads you inside his home, ignoring the shrieking greetings of his sister and his mother’s demanding call of pleads as he pushes you up the koidan-dansu staircase. His home was small with narrow hallways and thin walls, wooden floors that creaked under your weight and memories plastered in oxidized silver frames on every mahogany surface. Hanamaki’s room was in the far back of the hallway where shadows brood, and he’s profusely apologizing that the light fixture above is broken and has been for many years now. His nimble fingers sliding the door to his bedroom open as a darkened room sat in cimmerian stillness.

The smell of musk and earth envelopes you into a sense of tranquility as you push farther into his room, taking in the sight of an unmade futon laying messy on beige tatami mats and a polluted desk messied with papers and unread books. Dust collected on the surface of his bookshelf, dresser and far corners of his rooms as lone spiders spun silk plexure on his windowsill. Hidden in too obvious of spaces were selcouth paraphernalia made of glass, their crystal bodies odd yet arcane with yellow inert water and resin clinging to the neck of his bongs.

You turned to Maki, who’s reaching into his closet to grab a spare hanger, as you melt away the tears of Mother Nature’s tantrum onto the floor. You're drenched and glistening after being consumed by the rain and Hanamaki listens to the subtle droplets fall from your hair onto his floor. Like the rest of his catastrophic room, he doesn’t care that you're making a mess. If he wasn’t so occupied trying to make things comfortable for you, he would gladly get on his knees and lick every stray droplet that falls around you (in his foam gagged consciousness, anything that spills from you should never go to waste). But he keeps his composure with a deep inhale from his nose as he hands you a wire hanger.

“Here, put your clothes on that and I’ll place them in the bathroom to dry off.” Hanamaki offered before the sudden realization laved over him. His skin burning into molten hues of rose golden as he quickly added onto his statement with furrowed brows, “And while you do that, I will get you some spare clothes to wear.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, waiting for him to turn around before you discarded your clothes one by one.

You stripped away the light blue button down that caged your torso, followed by the unravel of the red ribbon secured tightly around your neck. Bare flesh being kissed by the dampened freeze of his aircon spitting clear, turbulent winds. You shutter, the vertebrae of your pretty spine vibrate in a shockwave of agglomerative climax. Gentle fingers unfastened the zipper on the side of your plaid skirt and quickly did it fall down your legs with a deadened thrash. You stepped out of your skirt and gently tucked away your clothes in an orderly fashion on the hanger, standing half naked in the midst of his room with artificial lights spotlighting the delicance and elegance of your flesh.

Hanamaki blushed, attempting to hide the tinge of apricot blush that painted his face in soft strokes, his hands trembling as he attempted to offer you a gray shirt. You thanked him as you handed off your uniform into his empty hands, watching him quickly dart out of the room as you played with the hem of his shirt. Once the door slid shut, you placed his t-shirt over your head and watched it cascade down your body as it engulfed your stature completely. A normal shirt for him was an oversized dress in contrast to your feminine build, something he admired once he returned into the sanctity of his room.

“You look pretty like this.” He praised, his smile carving into the lunar flesh of his face.

“I can say the same for you,” you pointed, acknowledging how he slipped out of his uniform to wear a plain, light blue t-shirt and a pair of sweats. “Thanks for the T-shirt.”

“I couldn’t just leave you in that wet uniform,” he exclaimed as he walked to the far side of the room. His hands brushed against the light fixture of his LED lights that quickly blazed in a violescent pigment; his hands rapidly tampering with a different, much smaller lamp that illuminated the many shades of a citrus sunset. He walked back to the other end of his room again to turn off the main light fixture, “It should be dry once you leave tonight.”

“Hopefully this storm lightens up.” You peered out the window as maudit winds routed between the spaces of buildings and trees.

“Even if it doesn’t, I don’t mind giving you my clothes so you can stay warm.”

“Such a typical guy thing to say,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m only human and you look too pretty in my clothes,”  Hanamaki reminded, looping his arms around your waist as his lips pressed a chaste kiss on the top of your head. “Thanks for skipping homework to have a smoke session with me.”

“Thank you for providing the flower.” You smiled against the skin of his collarbone, taking in his scent of musk, jasmine and coconut shampoo with earthy tones of cedar wood and lavender.

Hanamaki pushes you into the futon before giving you one last squeeze, watching you fall like dazed cinematic sequences of lovers falling in lust. The back of your head hitting the pillow too hard that it ached in a dull pulse but you didn’t mind. Your dilated eyes watch him stalk towards the long bookshelf from between your legs that gaped slightly opened. You watched him with sublime lacing your beings as his oversized hands grasped at his pink grinder with a uv dripped face, a small gray bag that tore at the seams with frayed threads while his other hand carefully held a beaker bong that's dusted in a light pink color. You felt the sudden relief of knowing that the bong you’ll be sharing is clean with freshly added water.

You watched him open his grinder, the pungent smell of terra and dirt invading your aura as he sprinkled bud into the glass bowl. You lean into him, watching Hanamaki set up everything on his own as he demands you to relax and seep closer to him with a soft smile. His warmth like molten suns as it lulls you into halcyon elation, wrinkling the fabric of his shirt as you curl your fingers across his thin torso. Lips latching onto his neck, sucking on the subtle skin that makes Hanamaki feel euphoria against the plush of your pouty lips and the slime of your saliva staining his skin. A deep moan escaped the charred airwaves of his throat, sounding sweetly of corybantic arousal.

“Hey, at least let me finish this,” he sighs, hands roaming into his bag to find the yellow lighter he believed to be was lucky. He placed the tips of his fingers against your chin, turning your head to face him with a smirk planting his face as the pad of his thumb brushed against your bottom lip that was swollen with lust and anticipation. “Here, place your mouth on the rim and inhale.”

You obeyed, leaning your head down to attach your lips against the glass and began to slowly breathe. Hanamaki held the lighter to the bowl as to set the bud ablaze; he encouraged you to suck harder with a gentle rub of his calloused hands as it traces the curvature of your spine while the smoke began to accumulate in the glass. He released his hold on his favorite lighter as he pinches the bowl of the bong tightly between long fingers, Hanamaki smiled as he gazed at you, “Okay, darling, start sucking.”

Hanamaki pulls out the bowl, making you quickly suck in the clouds that swirled in the glass bong. The water in the bong began to bubble with the force of your soft inhales, trying to match the rhythm of heavy downpours that shatter his windows. The smoke traveled down your throat, scorching into your esophagus as it settles in your lungs—the smoke burning your respiratory system as if you consumed a thousand molten, honeyed suns whole. Your lungs felt like they dropped into your core as the pain tangled your nerves and spread across your back, making you want to release the smoke you were currently choking on. You looked at Hanamaki with blurred vision as tears swelled into your eyes, the smoke you poured out of your mouth billowed around you till it dissipated into the atmosphere.

“Ah! You drooled!” Hanamaki laughed, collecting the silver spit that glossed your lips and dribbled down your chin.

“God, that hurt!” You complained in between deep breaths.

“The first hit of the day is always the hardest.” Hanamaki informed before taking the leftovers your small lungs couldn’t carry. He quickly took in the smoke and held it in his lungs like a blanket before he began to slowly choke on colorless clouds. Smoke poured out of his lips as if it was second nature as they thickened around him. Between gentle coughs, he began to speak.

“Hanamaki, can I ask you a question?” You jeered. All too soon between after school smoke sessions and tender kisses on the rooftop of your school, you began to notice how Hanamaki feigned vanity (pretending to be possessed with solar incendiary with every shallow breath and dagger pierced eyes). He wasn’t like he claimed to be, if anything, Hanamaki Takahiro was a man that had interest in everything and a deep desire to be loved. Blood deep, he was still a prelude mortal that carries inordinate vitality. But he gravitated somewhere on a spectrum of flowers blooming in a subtle reality and an acid trip of lilac skies, where pain is easily mistaken for pleasure. You were sure you knew the answer but the words still slipped past your saliva glossed lips “Are you a virgin?”

Hanamaki smiled as urged you to place your mouth against the rim of his bong, lighting the bowl as the green residing within it became blackened ash. “No, I’m not.” He said simply, no emotions carried as he pulled the bowl away, “suck hard, darling.”

You held the smoke into your lungs as your chest expanded, your eyes glazing over to Hanamaki who could only smile at you. Slowly, you felt skin heat under his stare and all at once, the shame relaxed your spine as your lungs pleaded for oxygen—like a slave to your body, you obeyed as the smoke pooled out of your mouth slowly to create thick mist between you. Quickly, you let out a sharp cough that scraped away at the flesh from behind your throat. Hanamaki mutters how cute you were before he played with his glass to seek his high.

“I’m still a virgin.” You admitted.

The bubbles of his bong roared as he swallowed the thick cloud that billowed in his bong. He held the smoke inside his lungs for a minute as his lips carved into a smile, his head nodding in understanding, as if he knew. You were a good girl and he just ended up becoming the floral demon that took possession of your nectar spine, quickly corroding the prayers etched into your grapefruit brain. He made assumptions of you, just as you did of him, but he could never call you anything with malicious intent. Like he said the first time you smoked with him beneath the rose hedges of his home as bumblebees swayed around you, ‘you’re the world to me’. He blew out his smoke, the front of his teeth brushing together before returning your stare, “I know, baby.”

Lean bodies protrude closer as Hanamaki slid closer to your aura, his slender fingers gently scraped at the curve of your face. Your skin was coaxed in slime and salt, oddly did it remind Hanamaki of the rapid rivers from behind his house and how the mist of fresh water soaked his skin. His thumb brushes against the edge of your cheek bone before his hand slowly glides downwards to rest on the base of your neck; his lips finding the corner of your parted mouth as he kissed you gently—the taste of the cannabis stained onto his skin invading your sense of taste that burst of charred earth lave your tongue.

Hanamaki grasped your wrist, willing to pull you deeper into his core of guilty pleasures. And just how willing he was to expose the rot and hallucinations that polluted his mangled body, you willingly stepped into his delusions of lilac skies where flowers bloomed vibrantly and violently—saturated in the acid that distorts your angelic image into a nymph that births peonies. He leaned forward, hovering his chapped lips above yours as waited for your signal, hoping it was fine to sink into your solar prisms and taste the honey from your lips. Eyes half lidded, he sweetly framed your mouth to his with open mouth kisses. His touches feel comforting as his weight is forged onto you and he pulls you down.

Nimble fingers card through his hair, the tip of your fingernails scratching against his scalp but he didn’t mind. It only encouraged him more with fever blossoming beneath his pale skin, your touch was something he craved and Hanamaki desired to capture it more with greed in hands.

Hanamaki bit the bottom of your lip before pulling away, gasping for air as you were far more dangerous than any smoke he could devour. “Hanaame,” he gasped, as if it was your actual name. The tips of his fingers inched higher above the hem of his t-shirt draped on your body as they roamed against your skin. You followed his movements, slowly pulling at the cloth that entraps his body till it raised just above his navel. Your fingertips brushed every hard edge and muscle of his torso before he replaced your hands with his, quickly discarding his shirt that suddenly felt too heavy to bear.

With furrowed brows, he gently placed his hands on your stomach from where your skin exposed, looking at you with half lidded eyes as you gave him the okay to touch your flesh. He slowly pulled at the hem of his shirt, raising it up to reveal your chest that was adorned in a bra that matched your black panties. Raindrops fell onto your skin from the open cracks of his window, painting you in cold, summer rainstorms as Hanamaki discarded the shirt; your body leaning forward from the assistance of your numbing elbows digging into the fabric of his futon. You harshly pressed your mouth against him again, missing the mold of his lips that feel like strelitzias swarming around you. The lingering taste of ash and earth of his lips felt hot in comparison to the rain that drizzled over you.

Water droplets began to pile against you, pooling into the spaces of your collarbones and neck muscles that you shivered. Hanamaki wanted to cure you of the pale freeze that glimmered onto your skin, jealous of how the rain loved you with it’s elixir offerings, so much so that attached his open mouth against your neck and dragged his tongue down. He cleaned the salt and purity from your skin, the sweat and nectar that doused you as the feel of your flesh mimicked the heat from oblivious, vermilion hell fires. He sipped on the rain fall that ruined your gentle image, knowing in the back of his mind he’ll become sick with infections that will soon saturate his organs with toxicity. However, he didn’t mind and it proved as his tongue still swayed against your skin.

Hands trembled as they pulled at the hem of your black panties, pulling them down slowly as you adjusted to the sudden chill of being bare and exposed. Hanamaki searched for your evening stare through half lidded eyes, assuring that he wasn’t pushing boundaries. Shaken fingers trembled as they gently pressed against the slit of your opening before they ran upwards to press lightly on your clit. You stirred, letting out a soft hiss as your body trembled from his touch, and for a moment he was scared that he harmed you but the apprehension that laced his translucent flesh washed away when he noticed your legs opening just slightly. He pressed agonizing small circles around you, adoring the sweet mewls that leave your lips with a drunken smile—saturated in euphoria at the beauty sprawled out in front of him as his high quickly takes over.

His movements felt slow as he carefully pushed away the hairs that curtained your face. The pad of his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before grazing it over your eyelid, smearing the eyeshadow and liquid eyeliner that painted you in renaissance beauty. “Open your eyes,” Hanamaki demanded, leaning his body closer to yours as you felt his hardened cock rest painfully on your thigh.

You obeyed, your vision going hazy like a noise filter. For a second you couldn’t comprehend as to why your body reacted in such a way but you couldn’t escape this high that made you feel like mauve flowers blooming underneath the heat of a uv lamp. You felt dizzy, as if you orbited around Saturn’s orange halo rings yet you knew perfectly well that you laid still and composed under Hanamaki. You reached out your hand to cusp his face, your reaction time slow as your limbs felt too heavy.

“Your eyes,” he complimented, “Are a beautiful shade of red.”

“I feel like the color purple, rare and untouchable.” You murmured, “But I know I’m in nude tones of skin shows and it’s just my aura slowly reaching enlightenment under the haze of your influence.”

He smiles at you, returning his lips to your skin as his fingers trailed down to feel the nectar collecting at your opening. His fingertips coated in slime as he pushed one digit in, curving his digit against your walls to witness the reaction of ecstasy that laced your bones. He moved his fingers in rhythmic tone, sliding in and out before needing to replace his slender fingers with his raged member that demanded to be noticed.

He grasped the base of his cock, sliding it between you in slow pushes to give you time to adjust to his length. He shutters at your unintentional squeeze as you milk him, Hanamaki never realizing how loud his gasps and grunts are as the pounding in his heart (from embarrassment, the pleasure and the high) became too coherent in his racing mind. The grip around your hips could break, allowing the black ichor spill like ink, blotching your flesh in a bouquet of flowers. Once he’s fully in, he recomposes, staring at you with the casual sparkle in his eyes as his smile resurfaces. Hanamaki traces the skin from just below your eyes, demanding you look at him with those red eyes that captivate him completely like salacious artwork hanging proudly in elegant museums.

“I can take you even higher,” he admits, fingertip brushes tracing softly against your neck, “I can take you away from this reality.”

You don’t say anything, still attempting to understand his words as they pour slowly out his lips. The reaction of his fingers on your skin was delayed, and it wasn’t until he pulled away did you notice his lingering advances. Once you could comprehend his words, you nodded your head, shaking it so quickly that it pulled at your center of gravity. “Okay,” you meekly whispered, giving him consent before you completely forget what he offered, “Just don’t kill me.”

Hanamaki pressed his lips onto yours sweetly before pulling away, his words tracing your lips in the same hush toned you spoke, “I could never.”

Because, you were his world.

He quickens his thrust, his hips carving into yours as if you’re a goddess demanding to be worshipped. You could feel the pleasure resonating from your love and spreads—every little edge and surface of your skin feeling sensitive to the touch of his lust. The slam of his hips felt like thunder as it echoed and reverberated off the thin walls of his room, and in the back of your mind before you forget about it mid sentence was, ‘I’m sure his mother can hear us.’ But Hanamaki didn’t mind, he wasn’t ashamed to let his mother know that he was deep within the bathic caverns of the girl he worshipped.

He knew you would most likely come before him, so quickly he fulfilled his promise and offered his hands to you. The palm of his hands pressing tight against the side of your neck as the curve of his thumbs sat against the base of your neck. Once he paved inside, he began to squeeze, restricting your breathing as his hips hit hard against your liquid love. He ignored the rainfall that slaps against his limbs, the cold thrush of droplets adoring his skin like impaled jewels. Disregarding the water droplets that splashed against his narrow shoulder blades and traveled downwards across his spine. And under him, you were soft with widened eyes as you try to comprehend his soothing words. ‘It’s going to be okay,’ he assured and you believed it, ‘cause deep within your core, he’s nurturing the lotuses that wilted as the stomach acid dissipated from your organs. Hanamaki was a literal demon, adored in flowers as he puked up petals beneath your naked frame—he could make you witness the destruction of paracosms and rebuild the dimensions that you nuked with heartache with the growth of florals and cannabis oils.

Your vision faded into this reality to a white cascade that appeared like static in your dilated pupils. Against his palms, he could feel the gentle pulse that fastens with every pace of his hips. Once you could witness the rebirth of this reality, your vision still clouded in noise and static, everything felt slow. His pace, his touch, your buildup. You never notice how the rain pours onto your bare flesh, or how Hanamaki’s heated exhales mist your skin. Slowly, did you feel euphoria tightened around your love as it escalated heavily before the vertigo grew overwhelming.

“H—Hana...maki!” You moaned, “I think I’m going to—!”

“It’s fine, darling.” He whispered, “Come, it’s okay.”

With or without his permission, your climax heightened as your hips raised against his careless rhythm. His cock brushed against your cervix as his hands began to squeeze tighter around your neck. As you slipped out of this reality, you released the pressure that pooled inside, your body seizing with the heavy weight of your climax and milked his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He moans.

His hips continued to thrust as he formed his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans and saliva as he too was close to reaching his high. Beneath him, you felt the wave of euphoria graze your daybreak ambiance, shedding away the title of mortal to enter a slow metamorphosis of godly.

#after;⛓;dark #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki smut #cw; asphyxiation #cw;weed #cw; marijuana #cw; smut #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #hq x you #hq scenarios #hq makki #makki x reader #makki scenarios

[sunflowersoonyoung]

imperfection | eunha

w.c ↠ 2.0k

pairing ↠ eunha x fem!reader

genre/s ↠ fluff, high school au!, featuring best friend!yerin

description ↠ You have spent countless hours observing perfect student Jung Eunbi. But it’s not enough. You want to see what lies beneath the surface.

warning/s ↠ possible underaged drinking (it’s kinda ambiguous as their ages aren’t mentioned)

author’s note ↠ my first piece of writing for this blog! woo~! i have noticed a severe lack of gfriend fics on this site so hopefully i shall stay committed enough to fill that hole :3

-

"You’re staring at her again.”

Yerin had her fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm, dragging you back to reality with a lilted tone. Her crescent eyes were crinkled, filled with amusement. It was not the first time she had commented on that particular tendency of yours, one that would be near-impossible for you to give up.

Jung Eunbi’s seat was two from the front, on the far right. You had that fact engraved into your mind. From your place near the back of the classroom, you could freely view the side of her features; you could lose yourself in her, commit to memory her subconscious habits.

Yerin sat back in her chair, reflecting back to you a mischievous smile, her thoughts as enigmatic as ever to you.

Ever since your friendship had blossomed in early middle school, Yerin had acted almost as a guardian to you. That role had remained despite both of you being almost adults. Although, recently it had taken on a new flavour. She was a little concerned that you were missing something - or rather, someone - in your life, and had been giving you small nudges towards finding that someone.

“I know she’s pretty but it won’t rub off on us,” she teased, seemingly unaware that her beauty was comparable to Eunbi’s. It was only due to her tomboyish and brash nature that male students were too nervous to approach her, whereas Eunbi was famously regarded to be sweet and polite.

“That’s not what I’m hoping for,” you muttered, taking care to be quiet enough that Yerin did not hear you.

Rather, your true wish was to capture a glimpse of Eunbi’s inner workings. Although you had spent over two years observing the school jewel, much of what you witnessed was only surface deep. You only wanted to know her deeper.

It all had begun when the round-faced girl had raised her hand to answer every question during orientation. Her chestnut irises would glitter, her enthusiasm to start the school year shining through.

That day you found yourself enraptured. You were not alone, either; boys flocked to Eunbi, drowning her with flattery and grasping for any scraps of affection from her. They reminded you of starved animals. Perhaps you might act like that if you were in a similar position, with the confidence that you had somewhat of a chance with her.

You had long since crossed that idea from your mind. Initially, you enjoyed clinging to the fantasy. Nowadays, however, that small sliver of hope stung, so you tried to stifle it.

“Then, what are you hoping for? I’m curious.”

Shock washed over your skin as you realised Yerin had, in fact, overheard you earlier. You met her firm gaze reluctantly, noticing the way heat rose on your face. You had not revealed your sexuality to Yerin but knew very well she had suspicions. It was only natural; not once had you offered your attention to a boy.

Just as pressure was building for you to reply, the bell sounded. You leapt upon this opportunity, hastily tidying your desk as you knew Yerin would be more eager to head home than pursue this topic. You were correct in this assertion. Immediately she abandoned her interrogation to stuff her pack with her notebooks.

Another time, you thought with passing relief, you would save that conversation for later.

-

The gradual walk home with Yerin came paired with a lukewarm breeze. She usually overwhelmed your ears with chatter, but today her mouth remained closed. A comfortable silence draped the air.

Abruptly, she spoke.

“There’s a party tonight. I know you don’t like them, but I thought I’d invite you anyway. I heard Kim Mingyu is going,” a broad grin stretched across her full cheeks as if the knowledge of the school flirt attending was thrilling to you. You could think of nothing worse than ending up pressed to a wall, enduring the wrath of a tipsy boy deadset on peeling off your clothes.

Feeling like an evening out regardless of potential consequences, you heaved a sigh and responded, “I’ll go. What time?”

Yerin clasped your arm tightly, offering you a giddy smile as her eyes lit up, “really? I’ll pick you up! Is eight o’clock okay?” It was rare that you joined Yerin on her drunken antics, and her excitement was bubbling up on her expression.

Before you could respond affirmatively, she was already skipping ahead, far more animated than moments earlier - when she had seemed almost subdued.

“Make sure you wear something cute,” she hummed, turning on her heel to face you with interlocked fingers held at her chest. Dread began to weigh down your gut like a heavy stone; usually, you would come to regret these evenings out.

But it was too late to change your mind. Yerin was far too overjoyed, and even the thought of extinguishing that burned you with guilt.

-

The night air was stuffy, and after only a few moments of exposure, sweat was sticking your clothing to your figure. Hardly heeding Yerin’s advice to dress in something “cute”, you had put no effort in your appearance, attending in only jeans and a tucked-in shirt. Upon scrutinizing this outfit, Yerin had only frowned.

Compared to your friend, you felt significantly underdressed. Her lustrous hair cascaded down her back in waves, a short baby blue dress revealing the ivory gloss of her legs. She was bound to receive attention tonight, and so would you - unfortunately not the positive sort. Standing beside such a gorgeous girl would surely cast shadows upon you.

Inside, the proximity of bodies overwhelmed you with nausea and shortness of breath. If it were not for Yerin’s hand enclosed around yours, you would have directly avoided the mass for the outskirts of the room. Instead, you ended up amidst all of the chaos, thanks to her iron grasp.

Yerin had filled a cup with liquor-laced cola and busied herself with casual conversation, leaving you to observe your surroundings out of boredom. The lounge room had been modified somewhat, fold-out tables squeezed into corners, lined with alcoholic beverages and a variety of soft drinks. As you took in the room, your gaze settled upon a crimson leather sofa - empty, save for a petite girl curled up on the end.

It took you a brief moment to realise the aforementioned girl was none other than Jung Eunbi.

“Yerin,” you hissed, drawing her attention, “what is she doing here?”

As if this was all a part of some diabolical plan of hers, she shot you a grin, responding with a dismissive, “who knows?”

Eunbi had never shown her face at a party before, perhaps out of fear of smearing her good-girl image. She looked horribly out of place, nervously glancing around her as if worried that someone might approach her. Her fingers would intermittently adjust the collar of her white blouse, then return to swirling the contents of her plastic cup.

By the time you recognised that you were staring unashamedly at her, Eunbi was staring back.

Initially, you grew panic-filled, searching for something else to look at as if it were mere coincidence that you had met eyes. It was too late to pretend; you had now drawn her attention.

Feeling hot and embarrassed beneath her curiosity, it took enormous willpower not to turn your back on her. Instead, you allowed the tension between you both to heighten, until you flicked your gaze back up at her. It was her who went scarlet this time. If you had not just witnessed it, you might not have believed it.

The evening melted away, much of it spent exchanging shy glances and nervous smiles with Eunbi. Occasionally she would stand and refill her cup, and these were the only interruptions, apart from when Yerin (who was now quite intoxicated) stumbled backwards into you, causing the world you and Eunbi shared to shatter briefly. The tension between you both was obvious.

As the night reached its culmination, she stood, this time making a direct bee-line for the doorway you had witnessed various couples disappear through. Her steps were unsteady, and she appeared less than confident in her ability to walk.

As her figure retreated from your vision, cold hands grasped your shoulders from behind.

“Go on. I think she wants you to follow her.”

It was Yerin, giving you the shove you needed. You would thank her later when she would remember it.

Although most rooms were undoubtedly occupied, the study remained open; this is where Eunbi had found herself. Her palm leant against a dark wooden desk, back turned to you as her almond-shaped eyes skimmed the bookshelves. She was not truly looking at them, however, her mind far elsewhere. She turned hearing the sound of your footsteps coming to a halt, expression brightening in the wake of you.

“You’re (F/n), the pretty girl in my class, aren’t you?”

Nothing could have prepared you for a compliment so direct, a blush heating the tips of your ears. Eunbi had an air of innocence as she spoke, perhaps due to the alcohol in her bloodstream. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she proceeded, and you could not help but look.

“Hey, (F/n), will you listen to me while I talk?”

Though you hardly needed to be asked, the way her voice trembled would have convinced you regardless. Her eyes glistened with tears as she began to describe her situation, opening up to you with such desperation that you realised she had no one else.

You learned that Seonghwa, a popular boy with questionable motives, had been pursuing Eunbi and that despite her obvious disinterest her friend group was pushing her in his direction. Uncovering her imperfections somehow made her more attractive.

“I’m too scared to say anything. They already make fun of me because I only focus on my studies. But I don’t want to date him, I really don’t,” as she began to sob, shock coursed through your veins. Out of desperation, your hands found hers. She took this contact as permission to bury herself in your arms.

It was strange, how natural it felt to hold her. You were frightened to hug her too tightly, her figure small and fragile. She did not share the same fear apparently, because she was clinging to you as if she had been craving this moment forever. You allowed her to cry, tightening your embrace in an attempt to soothe her. It seemed to work; gradually, her quivering slowed till she was still.

Somehow, this was happening. All you had ever desired was to be the very person who Eunbi took solace in, and this night had lead to just that. Her easiness in trusting you made you realise, perhaps this romance was not as one-sided as you had always assumed.

When she withdrew, her raven hair falling over her face in disarray, you were cold without her. Would this be the last of a breathtaking moment? Your heart threatened to break over the mere idea.

“I’d much rather date you, (F/n). I like you a lot,” she murmured, as if unsure whether she was ready for you to hear it.

You heard it regardless of her intentions.

Time passed amidst a thick silence, as neither of you could find the right words to say. You were not sure where the inspiration to kiss her came from, an abnormally bold move from yourself by your admittance, but Eunbi’s warm lips were inviting you to continue so you did.

Her fingers reached up and tentatively brushed your cheeks, gently tilting your jaw to draw you a little closer. She left a sweet flavour behind, and when she peered at you her round eyes sparkled with a clarity you would have expected from someone sober. It was all you could do not to sweep her up and kiss her till her lips were swollen.

For a moment you peered back at each other almost in disbelief.

“Do you think we could try being together?” Eunbi’s voice shrunk, barely audible.

This time you failed to fight your urges, cupping her face to taste her once more, a wordless answer to her question.

#gfriend #girl group fanfic #girl group imagines #gfriend x reader #gfriend fanfic #gfriend imagines #eunha x reader #eunha fanfic #eunha imagines #gxg imagine #wlw #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #eunha #jung eunbi #kpop #girl group fluff #kpop fluff #gfriend fluff

[theladyofdeath]

Rags & Riches {7}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: And so it begins.

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

The last thing Feyre wanted to do was sit through supper with her sisters, Elain’s future fiance, and the pain in the ass that was Lord Rhysand of Velaris. 

It was just past six-thirty and their guests were soon to arrive. Nesta had received return letters from both of the gentlemen as the afternoon went on, accepting her invitation. 

Suddenly, Feyre wished that her father hadn’t had to leave town. When he did, Nesta always assumed she was to replace the role of head of the family, because she was the eldest. 

Which was shit, because she was the only one among the three that was yet to have a suitor. There was a time when Feyre believed Tomas Mandray had taken an interest in Nesta. They all believed he would one day propose marriage...until he showed up with his betrothed to their last ball.

Perhaps that is why Nesta had arranged the supper, Feyre thought. To distract her from her own boring loneliness. 

With one last look in the mirror, Feyre jumped off her vanity stool and exited her bedroom. She wore a floor length, dusty blue evening gown and new, polished boots. Her hair was down in long curls, one side pinned back. She told Alis she would have no makeup, for she preferred her natural appearance. 

Besides, she surely wasn’t trying to impress anybody.

Especially not Rhysand, even if the memories of the night before had her heart lightning at the thought of him. 

“Well, don’t you look lovely.”

The moment Feyre shut her door behind her, she was joined by her sister, looking beautiful, but terrified.

Feyre instantly softened at the sight of Elain becoming uneasy. “What is it?”

“What?” Elain asked, caught off guard by the question. 

“You look as if you may faint,” Feyre began, cautiously. “Or vomit.”

Elain chuckled, hesitantly. “I’m quite alright. And you? Excited to see Lord Rhysand?”

“I’d much rather pluck my eyes out,” Feyre mumbled.

She looped her arm through her sister’s as they walked the halls, then down the main staircase, where Nesta was waiting at the bottom. 

Her navy blue gown hugged her hips tightly. Her hair was braided into a crown, and her hands were on her hips as she ordered the servants around. 

“Is this truly such a big occasion?” Feyre asked, brows raised. “Seems to me like you’re overdoing it a bit.”

Indeed, Nesta had gone a bit overboard. Flowers were everywhere, a string quartet was playing softly in the corner. Feyre couldn’t even imagine how the dining room looked. 

“Truly, Nesta,” Elain began, looking around, “it’s lovely, but is it necessary?”

Nesta turned to face her sisters. “Of course, it is. I am trying to find my sisters eligible suitors.”

Feyre groaned as Elain cleared her throat.

“Oh, stop looking so nervous,” Nesta said. “They’ll be here at any moment. Chins up, shoulders back.”

Feyre and Elain shared a look, and she instantly knew what her sister was thinking. Nesta was sounding just like their mother. 

“May as well do what we’re told or all hell will break loose,” Feyre muttered.

Still arm in arm, Feyre and Elain made their way into the grand entrance to await the fate of their evening. 

Feyre couldn’t help but notice the hesitant steps Elain was taking. It was almost as if Feyre was the one dragging her along.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Feyre whispered.

Elain nodded, quickly, but her hands were shaking as they took their place in front of Nesta’s carefully placed bouquets. 

~~~~~

Nesta hurried into the dining room to make sure the table was set like she had asked.

To her surprise, it was, down to the very last detail. The blush lace runner was placed over the ivory tablecloth, and the centerpiece of tulips and baby’s breath fit perfectly. Their finest china was placed about, their finest silverware laid beside it. Floral wine glasses were set by each place, shining brightly as if they were scrubbed more than once.

Nesta was satisfied. 

Sweeping through the threshold of the dining room was Cassian, although Nesta had to glance at him twice to realize it.

His typical stableboy wear was replaced with a fine, tailored suit and white gloves. His shoulder-length hair was brushed neatly and tied back at the nape of his neck.

The moment he saw Nesta, he froze. 

As did she.

“Stableboy,” she greeted him.

Cassian bowed his head. “Lady Nesta.”

“I didn’t realize you were still needed to fill Oliver’s position. Is he still unwell?”

They stood on opposite ends of the room, but Nesta felt as if she were standing much closer to him. Details of their night together at the tavern were still blurry, but as the days went by, the more she remembered.

“He’s feeling better, but still has a bit of a cough and such,” Cassian confirmed. “He should be back soon. Until then, here I am.”

“Are you filling both positions?” Nesta asked. “Edward went with my father, did he not?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, quietly. “He did. I tend to the stables, as I usually do, until they tell me that they need me in here. I am grateful to fill both positions.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed, unsure if he was telling the truth or not. Yet, he seemed genuine. “Very well. Did they train you properly?”

Cassian blinked. “I...believe so?”

“Hmmm.” Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “Very well.” She looked behind him, through the doorway, and when she saw no one was coming, she asked, “Do you recall me wearing a silver bracelet the other night? When we...when I...was...out? If not, it’s quite alright. I just thought I had it on but it was gone when I awoke the next morning. My mother gifted it to me.”

Cassian cleared his throat. “Oh, I...I’m not sure, Lady Nesta. I was focused more on keeping you upright than your apparel.”

Nesta’s scowl deepened. “Very well. If you find it anywhere, please let me know.”

There was no use, though. Nesta knew she wasn’t the classiest of drunks. It had most likely fallen off at some point, between here and there. 

Cassian bowed his head once more before leaving the room. Nesta watched him leave, surprised at how well he looked when he wasn’t dressed in dirty trousers. 

She looked around to admire the work, once more, before returning to her sisters.

~~~~~

Elain felt uneasy. With every second that passed, her heart beat faster. 

With every second that passed, she longed to take Azriel’s hand and run into the woods, damning the consequences. 

But she knew that was nothing more than a dream.

Elain felt like an eternity had passed before the front doors opened and their footman had announced that Lord Rhysand had arrived. Letting out a breath, Elain felt a burden lifted off her as Lucien was not the first to arrive.

Lord Rhysand entered and politely greeted Nesta and Elain before pausing before Feyre and taking her hand, kissing the backside of her palm softly.

Feyre said nothing. She simply snatched her hand away and put it back at her side.

If Lord Rhysand was surprised by this, he surely didn’t show it. His smile widened as Feyre resisted, and he did not push himself any further. Instead, he began to look around the foyer, at the art and the flowers and the quartet in the corner.

Meanwhile, Feyre’s lips were tight in a straight line as she resisted the urge to follow Lord Rhysand with her curious gaze.

Elain knew she wanted to.

She could tell by her mannerisms. 

She could tell by the way her fingers were curled into fists at her aides, by the way her eyes darted across the room every other second. 

But Elain did not dwell much on Feyre, because as the clock continued ticking, her time ran out.

Lucien would be arriving soon.

“At least look as if you’re pleased,” Nesta mumbled.

Elain cleared her throat. She could do this. She could. 

Lucien was the perfect match. 

Azriel was nothing but….

No, Azriel was everything. He-

The thought was cut off short as the front doors opened and Lord Lucien stepped through. His shoulders were relaxed, his eyes bright - the complete opposite of Elain.

Nesta greeted him, then stepped aside, leave Elain in the spotlight.

“My Lord,” she said and curtsied.

“Lady Elain,” he smiled, bowing. “A pleasure to see you again so soon.”

“And you,” Elain agreed.

He was just as handsome as the last time she had seen him. His russet eyes were shining, his auburn hair tied back and neat. He wore a dark green waistcoat that suited him well.

“I am glad you were able to join us,” Elain said, hoping her voice was much more confident than she felt.

“As am I,” he smiled, then held out his hand.

Elain took it, graciously, although her fingers shook as Lucien pressed his mouth to the back of her palm, and Nesta announced, “Let us make way to the dining room.”

No one protested, although Feyre looked as if she wanted to, as Nesta led them from the foyer to the dining hall.

Although there were only five of them, the long table was set extravagantly. They each took their places, Nesta at the head, before the first course appeared.

Lucien helped Elain into her seat before sitting beside her, the pair sitting across from Lord Rhysand and Feyre - the latter looking as if she may set the whole manor on fire. 

~~~~~

Rhysand handled new places and situations quite well.

Thus far, he had gathered that Nesta thought far too highly of herself. She could not have been but a year or two older than the middle sister; yet, she acted as if she was the rich, snooty aunt that expected everyone to fall at her feet and kiss her ass. 

The middle sister - Elain - looked paler than Rhysand had seen her at the ball. She must have been unwell, Rhysand thought. Hopefully she was not vomit all over the grand place setting. 

Her betrothed - or, soon to be betrothed, rather - did not seem to notice. He simply kept smiling her way and gifting her compliments.

Rhysand swore the butler standing closest to the table holding the water and the wine kept looking at Lord Lucien with a murderous gleam in his hazel eyes. But, then again, he was known to imagine such things.

However, he surely was not imagining the scowl that had contorted Feyre’s own face. 

He had to admit. He rather liked the scowl. He knew that she wasn’t trying to be humorous, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the expression.

Even if he kept that laughter within the boundaries of his mind.

“You haven’t touched your soup,” Rhysand began, taking a bite of his own.

Feyre did not meet his gaze. “It’s hot.”

“Is not,” Rhysand murmured, before taking yet another bite.

“Truly, Feyre, do not be rude,” Nesta scorned, although she paid little attention to the bowl before her. “Lucien, how is your father?”

“He’s well.” Lucien smiled politely. 

“And your brothers? All married now, I presume.”

A strangled noise left Elain’s throat.

“Yes,” Lucien confirmed, smiling at the eldest Archeron sister. “All married.”

Nesta gave him a smile that confirmed what they were all thinking, although Rhysand had to admit that he didn’t care.

All he cared about was the woman beside him, looking at her soup as if it was her greatest enemy. 

“We know plenty about Lucien,” Elain began, clearing her throat, voice quiet. “He’s lived here always, and father is good friends with his.” Lucien smiled at that. “But, we do not know much about you, Lord Rhysand.”

Rhysand lifted a brow, spoon still in his hand. “Is that so? Okay. What do you wish to know?”

Elain hesitated. Apparently she hadn’t thought past her statement.

“What keeps you in town?” Nesta asked. “We are glad you are here, of course, but we all thought you had gone back to Velaris.”

Rhysand hesitated, although his sly smile gave nothing away. He could tell them the truth, of course, but that all seemed too private. He was surely into Feyre, obviously, but he did not trust Nesta whatsoever and Elain seemed concerned with her own internal matters. 

“Family matters,” he said, keeping it simple. “Nothing too serious.”

“Ready to go back to Velaris?” Nesta asked.

“Hopefully,” Feyre mumbled.

“I hear it’s lovely there,” Elain said, having yet to take a bite of her soup. “We’ve never been.”

“It is,” Rhysand confirmed. “Velaris has the most beautiful of nights. The starlight is unique, unlike anywhere else.”

Elain’s gentle smile somehow made him feel homesick as he talked about his beloved Velaris. 

“I hope to take Feyre there,” Rhysand began, “soon.”

“She would love that,” Nesta said, allowing the butler to remove her bowl and make way for the main course.

“She can speak for herself, thank you,” Feyre announced, for the first time in quite some time. “And no, she certainly would not love that.”

Rhysand chuckled as a broad-shouldered butler appeared beside him, hair tied back, and took his bowl.

“Pardon me, my Lord,” he said.

“No need,” Rhysand smiled. “If you need me to move, please say so.”

Before the butler could reply, Nesta rolled her eyes. “Please excuse our stableboy. He’s helping while our butler is sick.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that he’s unwell,” Rhysand said, “but it’s nice to know you have such great help in the stables.”

Nesta looked annoyed at his comment, and the table fell into an uncomfortable silence. 

“Well,” Lucien said, from across the table, seemingly nervous. “I am excited for this meal. It smells delicious.” 

No one said a word for the remainder of the meal.

~~~~~

After supper, Elain gave Lucien a tour of the manor, both inside and out. As they walked around Elain’s garden, he found himself smiling.

Elain had been attempting to avoid eye contact at all times. During supper, Azriel had not even looked at her, not once. It was all she could think about.

“You have a lovely garden,” Lucien said, breaking her out of her thoughts. “You’ve done this all on your own?”

“I have,” she said, gently. “It’s one of my greatest passions. I love watching beauty appear from nowhere.”

His smile widened. “That’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said, fully aware that he had taken a step nearer to her.

“Lady Elain-”

“Please, you may call me Elain.”

Lucien nodded. “Then you may call me Lucien.”

Elain, despite her nerves and paranoia, smiled. “Very well.”

He cleared his throat, and for the first time in a long while, Elain met his eyes. “You know that our fathers intend us to be married.”

“Yes,” Elain breathed.

“I know we do not know each other all that well, but I know you are a beautiful, respectable woman,” Lucien began. Elain thought she may faint. “I would like to ask for your hand in marriage, Elain. We can start planning and be wed within the year. And, as that time approaches, I hope to spend each day getting to know you, and proving that I will do all I can to be the greatest husband.”

Elain felt her eyes well up with tears. The man in her mind, in her heart, and the man before her were not the same man. And she hated herself for it, because the man in front of her deserved to be married to someone who adored him in every way.

“You are a good man,” Elain said, words flooding out. “I am honored that you have asked.”

Lucien’s smile widened, reaching up to brush away a tear that fell. Then, his smile wavered. The touch of his skin against hers was warm. “I surely do hope these are tears of joy...Have I done something to offend you, La- sorry. Elain.”

Elain huffed a laugh at his hesitation with her title. No, the tears were not tears of joy, but it was not because of him. He was lovely. He was a Lord. He was who she had to marry, or her father would never forgive her, would never speak to her again. She would be disowned.

“Of course,” she said, voice so quiet it could barely be heard above the pounding of her heart. “It would be an honor to be your wife.”

~~~~~

Nesta had abandoned them moments before, leaving Feyre and Rhysand to a sitting room full of uncomfortable silence.

“Is this it?” Rhysand asked.

Feyre shot him a glare from where she sat across from him. “Pardon?”

“Typically there should be some grand romantic gesture to end an evening such as this,” Rhysand said. “This is just awkward.” 

“Then perhaps you should be going home,” Feyre suggested, rising to her feet. “Well, I should walk you out.”

Rhysand’s deep laugh followed her as she hurried out of the room. “Well, Feyre, darling, I had a lovely evening.” 

“That makes one of us,” Feyre said. 

They reached the front doors, then the front walk. 

“Allow me to tell Cassian to bring your carriage around,” Feyre said.

Rhysand laughed. “I am perfectly capable of going to the stables and fetching my own horse. No carriage.”

“You rode your horse to supper?” Feyre asked, stopping in her tracks. “In your fine clothes?”

Rhysand raised a brow, meeting her gaze. “Does that surprise you?” 

It did, but Feyre wasn’t sure why. “Well, then I’ll leave you be. Good night.”

She didn’t step away.

“Is that all?” Rhysand asked.

Feyre’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

This time, she did turn to leave, but that familiar hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back to him. She fell close to his body, and did not dare to move.

“This is inappropriate,” Feyre whispered, although there was no hostility in it. “You are a Lord, and I am a Lady.” 

“Almost as inappropriate as being alone together at an inn?” Rhysand asked. For once, he wore no stupid grin. 

“Almost,” Feyre confirmed.

He was standing close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her forehead, could smell the oaky scent of his cologne. 

“I think I have proven that I have no ill intentions toward you,” he said, his hand brushing along her own. “Yet, all night, you seem to have wanted me gone. Do you truly hate me that much? I thought, perhaps, after the other night, I had grown on you.” 

His words were light, but his stare was intent. Dangerous. His stare made Feyre’s thoughts run wild with thoughts that a Lady should not think. 

“You are cocky and rude,” Feyre said, words shaking.

Rhysand bit his lip to keep from smiling. “Perhaps. But, so are you.”

Feyre thought that he may kiss her then, and she knew that she shouldn’t but she did, she wanted him so badly to close the distance between them and press his mouth against hers. 

But he didn’t.

He stepped away, and bowed, before meeting her gaze, once more. “Goodnight, Feyre. Until next time.”

Feyre turned to watch him as he strode past her, down the path toward the stables. She hated him for not looking back. 

~~~~~

Cassian mounted Marigold the moment Lord Rhysand walked into the stables.

Cassian opened his mouth to speak, but Rhysand just smiled. “No need to explain. I’m just here for my horse. Going out?”

Cassian cleared his throat. “Just to the tavern, my Lord.”

Hoping that barmaid is there. He hadn’t realized Nesta’s bracelet had been a gift from her mother. It was all he had thought of the entire evening. 

Guilt. He was filled with guilt.

“Please, call me Rhysand,” he laughed, charmingly, taking his own mare out of her stall. “Mind if I join you?”

Cassian blinked. “You want to join me? At the tavern? You do realize I’m the help, right?”

Rhysand grinned as he pulled his horse into the open. “I do. I also realize I could go for a drink.”

He’s serious, Cassian realized, as Rhysand hopped onto his horse and looked over his shoulder at the stableboy.

“Coming, then?” Rhysand asked, digging his heels into his horse’s side.

“Apparently so,” Cassian muttered, still in disbelief as he followed the Lord of Velaris into the village.

~~~~~

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @mariamuses @a-happybird @amusicalbookworm @manoncrochanblackbeak @alifletcher2012 @candid-confetti @fandoms-everywhere-united @mis-lil-red @littlehoneyybee @abillionlittlepieces @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @awesomelena555 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @tswaney17 @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @rhysandsrightknee @gendryaforthemasses @dayanna-hatter @thebluemartini @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @julemmaes @christiashadows @sleeping-and-books @itsme-malin @agnez312 @cat5313 @amren-courtofdreams @chemica @empress-ofbloodshed @islamonna @illyrianbeauty  @sleeping-and-books @queenofxhearts @sleeping-and-books​ @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth​ @queenofillea1​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @levivlio​ @hellolenas​ @burritowithfeels​ @that-other-pineapple​ @girl-who-reads-the-books​ @raghad-50725 @musicmaam @rowaelinforeverworld​ @negativenesta  @welcometothespeaknowworldtour​ @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit

#r&r #tacmc r&r #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #feysand #feyre #rhysand #elriel #elain #azur lane #nessian #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas

[a-dorin]

fulfillment | darth maul

word count: 1,665

warnings: smut, oral (receiving), horn kink, dominance 

summary: after some persuasion from his work, darth maul fulfills your desires. 

the room was dark, dimly lit by a kerosene lamp. a figure was illuminated by the lamp, his features softened by a golden glow. his eyes were narrowed, focused on the transcription before him. he let out a huff of frustration, rubbing his temple with a gloved hand. his amber eyes gleamed, his horns shining ivory. 

the door creaking open interrupted the zabrak, his shoulders flinching in surprise. relief flooded his features when he recognized the figure before him, a soft purr rumbling from his throat, "hello, my love."

you wrapped your arms around maul's neck, placing a tender kiss on his cheek, "you should come to bed."

a sigh escaped maul's lips, "i'm making progress. i need to find his location."

"obi-wan kenobi's location hasn't shifted in weeks," you protested, "it will not change in the morning. he is in hiding. i thought you established this several hours ago maul."

maul growled at the mention of the jedi's name, rage consuming his thoughts, "that is why it is imperative i find him."

"maul," you pleaded, "come to bed. please."

darth maul had been tied to his desk throughout the day. any time you popped in, he was hunched over his workspace, fingers toying with a datapad or his nose deep into paperwork. the zabrak was on the heels of the jedi, obi-wan kenobi. you knew why. maul was desperate to wreak havoc on obi-wan. maul ached to seek his revenge. after all, the jedi took away his legs. maul wanted to take obi-wan's life in trade for all of the pain, anguish, and suffering he endured. 

you were the zabrak's lover, a shy, timid young woman from tatooine. working as a traveling medic, you hopped from planet planet, in search of work. luckily, in your field, opportunities were always present. one brisk summer evening, you bumped into maul at the mos eisley cantina, where he spilled his drink all over your clothes. 

at first, he showed no remorse, only snorting as you let out a yelp. however, once he noticed the tears brimming your eyes, he softened, offering to buy you clothing from the marketplace. you obliged, the two of you connecting on your walk to the vendors. from there, it was the beginning of a beautiful love story. 

the force created a bond, intertwining your souls. although you were neither sith nor jedi, you were force sensitive. darth maul was a sith, fulfilling his destiny under the force. you weren't sure why there was a war among the jedi and sith, but you tried your best to understand. after all, you were in love with a sith lord. and he was very infatuated with you. 

darth maul was not the soft type. the zabrak could slice off heads with ease, showing no signs of disgust or recoil. he had seen mass amounts of bloodshed, often by his own hands. however, there was one thing in the vast universe that made his knees buckle and his throat tighten. it was you, brought into his life by the force. maul felt an intense bond between the two of you, the feeling sweeping him off his feet at times. 

you were the most beautiful thing in the universe, far more gorgeous than the stars. maul adored your (e/c) eyes, the way they glowed whenever he entered the room. the way your lips curved into a bright smile. you were his everything. his soul mate. 

the desperation inflected in your tone piqued the zabrak's interest, snapping him out of his thoughts. he could sense your desire. your want. your need. and it was all for him. immediately, maul rose from his seat, stretching his legs. he placed his hands on your hips, savoring the way your butt brushed against his own hips as you moved. 

"i'm coming to bed," maul purred, "just like you asked love."

blush tinged your cheeks as you entered the shared quarters. it was rare that maul showed affection. of course he adored you, but he was not the type to show it. often, you were the one at his beck-and-call. the fact that he was obeying your request sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. 

maul sat on the edge of the bed, amber eyes hungry, anticipating your next move. you slipped your tunic over your head, breasts bouncing as you did so. maul's eyes widened, the zabrak chewing on his lip to contain his eagerness.

you turned momentarily to fish out a clean tunic from your wardrobe, but you felt his warm hands knead your breasts, rolling your nipples between his thumbs, "don't you dare put anything else on."

a soft moan filled the room as maul pressed light, feathery kisses down your jawline, onto your neck. he nipped at your skin, ensuring that he left marks. there was nothing that the zabrak loved more than marking what was his. 

"let's move this to the bed," maul murmured, his tone laced with lust.

you nodded, laying down so that your back was on the mattress. maul slipped out of his own tunic, casting it to the floor. a flash of admiration passed through you as you placed your hands on his chest, fingertips relishing in the heat that radiated from him. you traced the textured skin, the red and black hues glowing in the moonlight.

your hands wandered to the horns on top of the zabrak's skull, feeling the tough ivory. a groan escaped maul's lips, closing his eyes with pleasure, "tonight is all about you, my love. don't fret about me."

"but i don't want you to feel left out," you pouted.

"don't worry angel," maul pressed a kiss on your collarbone, "i sensed your need for me. as your lover i need to take care of your needs before mine. understood?"

you nodded, your breath stopping momentarily as maul took a nipple in his mouth, his sharp teeth gently tugging. you squirmed underneath him, feeling your pussy drip. maul's tone ignited the spark. now his actions were fueling you with fire. a fire full of want and need. you needed maul to make you cum. 

"i can hear your thoughts love," maul purred, his throat vibrating against your skin, "i'll make you cum. just be patient."

the zabrak's mouth latched onto your other breast, giving it equal attention. he did not hesitate to leave another love bite, this one harsher than the others. his lips roamed your stomach, the kisses becoming needier and needier as they went farther down. maul paused momentarily, his amber eyes raking in the sight of you below him, cheeks tinged crimson, heart thudding in your chest, nerves wired with anticipation. 

"tell me what you want," maul smirked, parting your thighs, "or do i already know the answer?"

"you know," you whispered. 

maul's fingers hooked the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs. he placed two gentle kisses on each inner thigh, before diving into your dripping pussy. maul's tongue was skilled, delving into your inner folds, leaving no area left behind. 

the zabrak worshiped your body in bed, grateful for how you melted under his touch. he adored the way your moans bounced off the wall. the way your thighs shook as his tongue slid deeper into you. 

you squirmed, pleasure washing over you like a wave crashing into shore. the pleasure was overwhelming, but you knew maul wouldn't dare stop till you came undone. his warm palms held you down with an iron grip. maul was enjoying this too much. so were you. 

"maul," you moaned, reaching down and grasping his horns. the action pulled you closer to him, his face buried deeper between your thighs. he hummed, eyes closed, savoring the way you tasted on his tongue. 

maul's tongue circled your clit, sucking gently. he was careful not to be too harsh, as it would more than likely injure you. your hands gripping his horns stimulated his own pleasure, the zabrak desperate for more. his eyes opened, meeting your gaze. 

"i'm going to cum," you threw your head back, gripping the sheets. 

"then cum for me pretty girl," maul encouraged you, his words sweet and enticing, "cum for me."

once more, maul's mouth met with your clit, two of his fingers pumping in and out of you. stars filled your vision, coming undone underneath the zabrak. your thighs shook, your moans filled with an intensity maul had never heard before. he gave your pussy once last lick, before pulling away. your cum dripped from his chin, maul wiping it away. he licked his palm, enjoying your taste one last time. 

"we should probably clean this all up-"

"i'll take care of it," maul rumbled, "stay here."

you collapsed on the bed, chest heaving. you were out of breath, exhaustion flooding over your body. maul returned from the refresher, a warm towel in his hands. his eyes were focused as he pressed the towel on your skin, ensuring he cleaned you up entirely. 

"you've never cum that much before," maul's eyes met yours.

"it's not my fault you're so good at it," you rolled your eyes playfully. 

maul laid beside you, his hands massaging your back, "it was quite the sight. i felt it all in my mouth and-"

"that's enough for one night love," you cut him off, his words promising of another round. 

"mmm if you say so," maul hummed, placing a kiss on your shoulderblade,  "go rest my love, i'll keep massaging your skin."

"i love you," a sleepy smile plastered your face.

"i love you more," maul's tone was gentle as he placed another kiss on your head. 

the zabrak's hands carefully kneaded your skin, soothing sore muscles. you drifted off to sleep, your chest rising and falling steadily. maul admired the way you looked in the moonlight, a warm feeling seeping into his chest. darth maul loved you. more than anything in the universe.

and he would keep loving you. till his last breath.

#darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul smut #star wars #star wars x reader #maul x reader #darth maul fluff #darth maul imagine

[erythia-xiv]

                       But this winter, you’re here

                               And it’s different...

                                   The ringing carols don’t make me cry

#ff14 #FFXIV #ff14 screenies #FFXIV Screenshots #ff14 screenshot #Final Fantasy XIV #Nenet Ghisiro. #Blushing roses and ivory lace you will find me in this place #ff14 keeper of the moon #ffxiv keeper of the moon #ff14 miqo'te #ffxiv miqo'te #ffxiv my edits #ffxiv mods #FFXIV crystal

[kaleidescope-writes]

Heart of Audrilluria- Chapter XXI; Dreams Come True

Modern Fairytale AU

Prince King!Tom Hiddleston x Thief Queen! Reader

Designated Song: Hidden Feelings by Zara, Phoebe, and Lo

Please read the Author’s Note

Ready to fall in love?

Removing the glass from her lips, Y/N swallowed the water nervously. It had been almost two years since she’d returned to Audrilluria with Thomas and today was the day they’d vow to spend the rest of their lives together as husband and wife. And if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, she’d also make her vows to be queen. Something she’d been rehearsing since the day Thomas proposed. Her dream man came with a package. A package that just so happened to include a country… And seven kids.

“I’m sweating like a pig in the desert,” Y/N complained, fanning herself with a notecard that contained her vows. “There’s no sweat, you’re fine,” Amelie comforted, “Now close your eyes, I need to make you look naturally beautiful for your husband to be.” Y/N closed her eyes, desperately trying to continue fanning herself before Amelie took the notecard from her hand. “It’s hot in here, I don’t want to sweat in my dress,” Y/N whined, keeping her eyes closed. “It’s not hot,” Amelie laughed as she continued to apply a natural-looking eyeshadow to Y/N’s lids, “You’re nervous. Honestly, if I was marrying a handsome, gentle, kind, and downright amazing king, I would be nervous too.” Y/N laughed mockingly, “You’ll find someone. Maybe not a king, but someone.” 

Before Amelie had a chance to respond, the door opened and Augustus walked in. “How is the bride?” he asked excitedly, holding a clear, plastic box that contained the fresh flower bouquet. “The bride, if you must know, is anxious out of her mind,” Y/N replied as Amelie added the final touches to her eyeliner before reaching for the mascara. “You’ll be fine,” Augustus laughed as he set the bouquet down on the table near the sisters. “See,” Amelie began, finishing with Y/N’s makeup, “Gus and I both agree you’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. Besides, Tom loves you, pig sweat, and all.” Y/N rolled her eyes, looking over to the bouquet box to admire the freshly picked flowers. “So what did you decide on for my flowers?” she asked, looking over to Augustus. “Well,” he began, “Since I had to describe you love in flowers while sticking to the theme, I went for baby’s breath for the innocence of first love, white gardenias for the joy of the celebration, red roses for true love, pink roses for grace, ivory roses to represent your charm, and blush noisettes for a modern yet elegant touch. All flowers were picked from the garden.” 

Y/N smiled, still admiring the bouquet, “I want to believe you looked up the meaning of flowers in preparation for the wedding.” Augustus gave her a proud smile, “Since Thomas showed me the ring he was going to use to propose with.” Y/N chuckled, looking down at the ring. The mock sapphire gem gleaming under the light of the sun. Her thoughts took her back to the day he proposed, the familiar feeling spreading from her stomach. She felt it every time she was around him, thinking about him, and every time they kissed. Love.

“When you’re done daydreaming,” Amelie teased, “Maybe you can finally tell me about the ring you’re staring at while I help you with your dress.” Y/N snapped out of her thoughts, standing to walk over to the panel divider to change out of her nightwear and into her wedding dress. “I’m curious too,” Augustus said, “Why the mock sapphire ring?” Whilst changing, Y/N explained behind the panel, “We all remember when I stole the heart’s replica. Well, I left the gemstone heart behind with a note for Thomas that said ‘Real or fake, this shouldn’t belong to me’, referring to the heart. When he brought the replica back, he had a professional jeweler change them again so that the replica could have the gem it originally came with. As for the one I had put in its place, I thought he threw it away. Apparently, he had this ring specially made with a piece of the mock sapphire as the center jewel of the rose. He had another piece of the mock sapphire embedded into his wedding band. The rose in my ring is a symbol of what we consider was our first date in the garden. The day he proposed, he told me ‘Real or fake, this heart belongs to you. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ And I knew I had to say yes.” 

Amelie stared lovingly at her sister as she attached the veil to her hair. “He’s so sappy! I love it!” she said, taking a step back to admire her work, “And you look absolutely perfect.” Y/N walked out of the barrier created by the divider, allowing Augustus to see her. As soon as he laid eyes on her, his jaw dropped in astonishment. “You look absolutely radiant!” he complimented, almost at a loss for words. “Thank you, Gus,” Y/N smiled. Amelie walked to stand in front of her, “Ready to knock your goom out of his boots? Well, again?” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas stood in front of the altar with the archbishop and two best men by his side. His solid black traditional suit greatly contrasted with the brightness of the room. He was wearing his king crown for the special occasion. “Nervous?” Charles asked him teasingly. “Yes,” Thomas said simply, trying to distract himself by looking at everything in the room, making sure everything looked perfect. “So was Y/N,” Augustus said simply. “I lived with her for almost two years. I know everything about her life, everything she loves, everything she hates, every little thing about her and I am overtaken by the nerves and fear,” Thomas muttered, more to himself. “You’ll be fine, Tommy,” Charles comforted, “Feeling anxious is perfectly normal when you’re marrying the love of your life. Your parents felt it, my parents felt it, and hell, I’ll feel it when Augustus and I decide to get married.” Augustus looked over to him in shock, “When we wha-”

Music began to play as the double doors opened slowly. All three men straightened their posture and the best men took their respective places. The guests that crowded the room stood, turning to the doors as the royal children came into view. From the order of age, they began to walk down the aisle, Joey spreading the flower petals, Mikey walking close behind with the rings, Matias following in line in front of Alma, Allie, Daya, and Theodore. They took their places in the front seats reserved for family. At the very end of the hall, Y/N stood in her gorgeous dress and bouquet in hand. Her white dress was decorated with faux silver gems on top of the intricate lace, giving the dress a glowing feeling. She began her stride down the hall, joined by Amelie who agreed to give her away. Thomas looked to his wife-to-be in astonishment. She was as gorgeous as the day she first came to Audrilluria. She looked perfect, as always. 

They reached the altar and Amelie took Y/N’s hand and put it in Thomas’s hand. “Take care of her, your highness,” Amelie whispered loud enough for him to hear. “I promise,” Thomas smiled, taking her hand and leading her up to the top of the altar. He continued to admire her beauty, now closer as Amelie took her place on Y/N’s right side, taking her bouquet. “You look absolutely divine,” Thomas whispered to her, leaning into her ear. “And you look regal, my love,” she responded with a smile. Both their nerves long forgotten as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

“Dearly beloved family, friends, and guests,” the archbishop began, “We are here today to celebrate the union between our king and his beloved. I have been informed that objections will not be allowed, so I shall move on with the sermon.” Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she giggled, turning to Thomas. Thomas simply winked, giving her that all too familiar smirk before focussing on the archbishop’s words.

“As a promise of eternal love, the bride and groom will now speak their vows as they accept their rings,” the archbishop spoke. Mikey approached Charles, giving him the rings before returning to his place. Thomas and Y/N faced each other, holding hands. “My dearest Y/N,” Thomas began, looking deeply into her eyes, “From the moment I laid eyes on you, the only thought in my mind was how beautiful and free-spirited you were. I was instantly captivated by your very presence. You took my breath away from the very start and I wanted nothing more than to be by your side always. I found myself thinking about you at every given moment. I was captivated by your smile, your eyes, the way you laughed, the way you carried yourself, and every little thing about you. I knew from the start, I needed to be with you. Even after everything that happened after I first met you, I felt the need to forgive. I knew that if I didn’t have you by my side, I would never forgive myself. I knew that despite everything, I needed to be with you. So from that moment on, I decided to not let you go. And I promise now, with everyone here to witness, I will never let you go.” He placed the ring on Y/N’s finger as he finished speaking. The archbishop nodded to Y/N, signaling it was her turn.

“Thomas, my love,” she began, “There are so many things I could say to you that I’ve said before. I could describe how much I love you or how much you changed me, but I want to tell you something I’ve never said aloud. When we first met, I couldn’t meet your eyes because I knew I’d get lost in those beautiful blue orbs. Every time you spoke, I felt butterflies and a part of me wished it was directed to me. I fell for you slowly and it scared me because I never even dreamed of. Every little thing about you took my breath away and whenever you looked at me from a distance, time just froze. I was terrified to tell you what I felt because I knew you deserved so much more than I could ever be. When you went looking for me and showed me the hope in your eyes, I allowed myself to show what I feel. I was certain we would never end up together, but you changed that. And now, I’m overjoyed that from this day on, you will call me your wife.” She took his wedding band and placed it on his finger. 

“Do you, King Thomas, take Y/N to be your wife?” Thomas smiled brightly, “I do.” 

“And do you, Y/N L/N, take Thomas to be your husband?” Y/N mimicked his smile, “I do.” 

“Before this ceremony continues, I ask that the bride prepare to speak the vows to Audrilluria,” the archbishop commanded. Y/N let go of Thomas’s hands and made her way down the steps of the altar to the majordomo, who was holding the Orb of Unity and Mercy and the Scepter of Leadership and Justice. She took both in her hands as the archbishop spoke, “Speak your vows as you look upon the people of this kingdom.” Y/N took a deep breath, eyes scanning the room as she began, “I, Y/N L/N, solemnly swear to help my husband lead our kingdom with a firm but gentle hand. I promise to be loyal to Audrilluria as well as to the king. I will help him with the responsibilities that come with leadership and take an equal part in it.” The archbishop then commanded, “Take your place by the king’s side and finish your vows.” Y/N walked up the steps again and stood in front of Thomas, still holding the royal items. “On this day, I vow my loyalty to my husband, to Audrilluria, and to its legacy. On this day, I vow to be a fair queen.” she finished. 

The majordomo walked up to her and took the royal items from her hands. “You may crown your queen,” the archbishop told Thomas. Y/N bowed slightly as Thomas took the crown from Augustus’s hands and placed the ruby-encrusted, gold crown gently on her head. Y/N stood up again and took Thomas’s hands in hers as the archbishop announced, “With vows spoken and unity made, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Thomas almost didn’t wait for him to finish before he wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. The guests stood and cheered for the couple, though they were focussed on each other. 

When they finally parted, the archbishop announced, “I present to all, Thomas and Y/N Hiddleston, king, and queen of Audrilluria.” The cheers resumed as the couple looked around the room at their people. Thomas turned to Y/N with a smirk, “Ready to move on, my love?” Y/N looked to him in confusion, recognizing that mischievous smirk, “What are you plann--”

Thomas lifted her suddenly, carrying her bridal-style down the aisle and through the entrance doors. The people and press outside began to take pictures and cheer at the sight of the couple. Y/N laughed as Thomas set her down again, allowing her to rush down the steps with him with Augustus, Charles, and Amelie following close behind. They made it to their carriage and got in, preparing for the long photoshoot to come.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was close to setting as the reception was in full swing. The guests danced and mingled as they waited for the king and queen to have their first dance. The music faded, signaling that it was time for the dance. The dance area cleared as Thomas and Y/N made their way to the center. A soft, orchestral song began to play and Y/N recognized it instantly. “This is the same song we first danced to,” she inquired, facing her husband. Husband. “I wanted to recreate the moment I realized I never wanted to let you go,” Thomas responded, a smile gracing his lips as they began to dance. 

They swayed around the room, eyes permanently fixed on each other as their movements synced effortlessly. The same feeling that embraced them the first time they danced returned, this time stronger now that their love was made known. It was only them in the room with the music. Everything else faded away and they felt as if they danced on a cloud. The song came to an end as Thomas spun Y/N, bringing her closer to him as they came to a full stop. Taking the opportunity, Y/N leaned in and pressed a small, loving kiss to his lips. The guests cheered, making their presence known once more. 

“It’s time,” Amelie reminded, coming up to them with the bouquet in her hand. Y/N took it as some of the guests began to gather to try to catch it. Once everyone was ready, Y/N turned away and tossed it over her shoulder. After hearing them shuffle for a moment, she turned to see Charles holding the bouquet over his head proudly as he looked in the direction of Augustus. Thomas and Y/N turned to see a surprised, yet happy Augustus standing on the other side of them. They laughed softly as the guests began to crowd the dance area once more. 

“I believe it’s time for something else, my love,” Thomas whispered in Y/N’s ear. She looked up at him excitedly as he took her hand and began to lead her through the corridors of their home. They climbed up the stairs and made their way to the all-too-familiar office. Thomas opened the door, allowing his wife to enter before him. Wife. They reached the balcony doors and went inside. As they were walking in, lanterns began to illuminate the sky. Being the sappy gentleman he was, Thomas decided to marry Y/N on the day of Rosamund’s Celebration, two years after he realized he loved her. They looked out into the sky illuminated by lanterns, enjoying one another’s company. Suddenly, Y/N turned to face him, “Here’s to a lifetime by your side.” Thomas gave her a bright smile, “And to the future that we’ll make together.” With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in yet another passionate and gentle kiss.

In that moment, both of them realized that their deepest dreams had come true.   

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

A/N: It’s been one hell of a ride. Throughout the course of this story, I kept falling in love with this idea over and over again.[Also, for your vows, I added pieces of the designated song] So much so that I decided to not let go just yet. Coming in June, I will release kind of a sequel series to this called Life in Audrilluria. Basically, it will describe what happened in the almost two years leading up the wedding (including the engagement). I will post an announcement with the exact day the series will start by the end of this month. Until then, I want to introduce oneshots and Imagines into my works. I will post a few oneshots starting Wednesday if you are interested. I just want to ask you to let me know what characters/celebs/fandoms you want to see. Anyway, Thank you all so friggen much for all the support you’ve shown me. Honestly, you guys are the reason I kept it going for 21 chapters. I love you all so much and I’ll see you on Wednesday for more exciting content. I hope all is well, stay safe, and I’ll see you in June for the sequel!!

Taglist:

      @ladyblablabla, @tvdplusriverdale, @pipolaki, @myraiswack, @shockwavee, @harringtonb-blog, @cynic-spirit, @little-moonbeam-666, @ochizokulevy, @swifitiedaylight, @blue-honey-bee-from-france @scorpionchild81,  @imnotrevealingmyname @whathefuckrichard69 @frostedgiant @falling4uke @accio-boys​ @ashcrimson-is-writing

#tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelson #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston #thomas hiddleston #tom hiddles #thomas william hiddleston #loki fandom #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #thomas hiddleston x reader #loki #loki layfeyson x reader #loki imagine

[sailorshadzter]

by your side.

The pain she feels is deep.

It's an ache so fierce that sometimes she truly thinks she might die from it. Pain that steals the breath from her lungs, pain that twists her heart relentlessly. Even in sleep she cannot always escape it- nightmares plague her nights, reminders of the horrors and the sufferings she's been dealt since her days in King's Landing. And yet... In her dark, pitiful world, she's found a sense of hope. She's found a light to guide her way, she's found someone who for the first time since she left home so long ago, she trusts. Someone that she believes in. 

Someone who loves her, for her and for nothing else.

When she thinks about Jon, she's happy. He is everything she's wished to have all this time; he is her brave knight, her gentle knight, he is her saving grace. If it were not for him, she knows she would be dead, whether by her own hand or another's. It's thanks to his warm touch that she frees herself from the confines of her darkness, it's thanks to his soft words that she calms herself even after the worst of nightmares. Jon has saved her life, in more ways than he could ever really know.

Knock, knock.

The knock upon her chamber door interrupts her thoughts and she knows it's him before the door swings open. As if her thoughts have summoned him, Jon steps into her rooms at her gesture, Ghost darting into the room around him before the door falls closed. The great white wolf nearly knocks her from the chair she sits in so he can lick her face, his paws leaving muddy paw prints on her shoulders that she doesn't mind. Instead, she finds herself laughing as she strokes the wolf's shaggy fur, nuzzling her face close to his, well aware that there wasn't a single grown man in the world besides Jon that would dare come so close to the wolf.

From where he stands, Jon can't help but to smile. He enjoys seeing her in moments such as these- with her arms around his wolf, a gleeful smile upon her ivory features. Once, Jon had not thought such a smile would ever again return to her face, but every now and again, it shines through. "I thought I might fetch you for supper," he says as Ghost finally pulls himself from her, though he doesn't stray far, choosing to instead lay down at the hearth, the rug placed on the floor covered with his lost white hairs. "But now it seems as if you must change your gown." He gestures towards the mud that Ghost has left behind on her gown and they both laugh, the sound of hers spreading warmth through his entire being. "Shall I fetch someone...?"

At once, she's rising up to her feet, shaking her head. "No need," she crosses the room to where her wardrobe sits and from inside she fetches a fresh gown, a newer one she's only just finished, made from gray wool that Jon had provided her with upon their return to Winterfell. "My laces, if you would." Her heart is beating surprisingly fast- she supposes that this is wrong, but the relationship she and Jon have developed over their weeks together has changed, become something else entirely. She turns her back to him then, casting him a single glance over her shoulder, a look that threatens to utterly destroy him.

Somehow, someway, Jon reaches her and with shaking hands, he unlaces her gown, watching as it slips from her shoulders, revealing to him a glimpse of her creamy skin. And just like that, he catches sight of a scar, put there by perhaps a small blade- yet another reminder of all the pain she's suffered through before finding him at Castle Black. "Turn around," she commands quietly and Jon does, turning on the spot to rather face the hearth. Ghost stares back at him, quite knowingly he must admit, as if the wolf knows the truth that rests upon Jon's heart.

Quickly, and hyper aware of the pace of her heart, Sansa steps from the dirtied gown and int the fresh one. "Alright..." She murmurs, again casting a glance over her shoulder as Jon turns back to face her. "Lace me up." Jon swallows but he nods, once again reaching out so he can this time tighten the laces of her clean gown, hoping she cannot tell just how much his hands are shaking. When he's finished, she turns back around to face him, her cheeks tinged pink, but her lips are smiling. "Thank you," she offers him a brighter smile, though the blush does not fade from her cheeks. Unable to find his voice, he nods, reaching up a hand to the back of his head, a nervous habit he would certainly never break.

It's that moment that he realizes the gown is made from the same fabric which he had given to her some weeks before. "You look beautiful," he says the words before he can stop himself, realizing right then that he longs to see her in more gowns made from fabrics he's provided her with. He longs to see her in spring gowns and summer ones, too. Gowns in greens and blues and pinks. He longs to see her a summertime queen, with roses woven into her vibrant red hair. Her blush deepens at his compliment and she murmurs her thanks, glancing down at her feet as if she's become bashful before his stare. "They'll be uh... Waiting." He goes on, gesturing towards the door. In truth, until then, they'd both quite forgotten why she'd even changed her gown in the first place.

Offering her his arm, Jon smile as she loops her through his, their bodies pressed together as if they were made to fit in such a way. Made for one another. Together, they make their way from her rooms, leaving Ghost behind to snooze before the fire and down to the great hall, where they are welcomed by their lords with thunderous applause, with cheering that Winterfell has not heard since the days of their father, Lord Eddard Stark. Some might even dare to whisper behind their hands that it was such a shame that they were half siblings, for they made quite the handsome couple. A red haired queen and a king with the Stark looks, settled next to each other they were every inch a powerful couple, they were a pair that most would say would be the most benevolent of rulers.

When their supper is served, Jon pauses for only a moment; he raises his mug of ale into the air and calls for a toast, rising up to his full height, gesturing at the rest of the room to remain in their chairs. "To my sister Sansa, your Lady of Winterfell," king they might have crowned him, but Winterfell would always be hers. The lords cheer wildly for the young woman, who smiles despite the blush that stains her cheeks. "I would be lost without your guidance," he says as he turns to look down at her where she sits beside him, hoping she would know just how much she meant to him. Hoping she knows that he cares for her far more than he's ever cared for anyone in all of his life.

From the way her eyes shine, she knows, she knows.

And so he smiles, settling back into his place at her side. 

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #my writing #i wrote this #they deserve so many more SOFT moments

[casseythebee]

Mirror Mine (Peter Parker x reader AU)

Title: Mirror Mine

Prompt: Soulmate AU where when your soulmate writes something on their skin it shows up on yours and vice versa 

Summary: You go with your dad to one of Tony Stark’s party and there you meet him 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Words: 1.8k-ish

Warning: slight swearing (blame Bucky “What the hell” Barnes, and fluff 

A/N: I know reader inserts usually have your age but in the story, the reader is on the younger side just so it makes sense with the story, sorry. Most of the ships aren’t cannon but just roll with it. 

“Absolutely not.” 

Your father looked instantly pissed when you walked into the room. You were heading to one of the biggest nights of your father’s career. It was one of  Tony Stark’s big parties and your father had been invited to spark up some business deal or whatever, you honestly had no clue. He was supposed to bring your mother as a plus one, but your little brother had fallen ill with a slight cold, and she wanted to stay with him. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask throwing your hands in the air and rolling your eyes.

He gestures to your clothes and says in a disgusted tone of voice, “There is no way you are wearing that. This is a big night for me and I need you to look amazing and act amazingly.” 

A tight red plaid mini skirt fit snugly on your hips, under the skirt black tights hugged your toned legs, and a black crop top accentuated your curves. You had smacked blood-red lipstick, a messy braid fell down your shoulders along with a golden chain necklace. And to tie the whole outfit together,  a nice black leather jacket. 

“I knew this would happen so I went out last night and picked out a dress, let's go try it on,” your mom chimes in. 

“Okay but please be quick, ladies,” your dad says. 

“The dress is gorgeous and I can redo your makeup to match, oh you are going to look so pretty!” your mom exclaims leading you into her room. 

“Names,” a cold voice demands to your father. 

“(Y/D/F/N) and my plus one is my daughter (Y/F/N),” your father reassures him handing him the invitation he got at work. It’s a small, ivory piece of paper with swirly, gold letters printed on it. 

“Isn’t she a little young?” the buff bouncer asks tipping down his glasses and looking you up and down. 

“That my kind sir is none of your damn business.” 

With your arm linked through your fathers, you guys walk into the Avengers compound and head through the all-white front foyer- your father's shoes making clacking noises while your ballet shoes are utterly silent- and head to the glass elevator. Your father presses a higher number, number 10, as the elevator travels upwards you catch quick glances of the other rooms, they all look like living spaces, and one sterile-looking hallway with many doors branching off. 

When the elevator finally stops you guys step out of the elevator and look out into the room. It is filled with people, some you recognize some you don’t, the girls all wearing elegant dresses, and the men suits and tuxedos. There is a massive bar on one wall, some couches scattered around everywhere, a wall made entirely of windows, a DJ booth on another wall, speakers placed at random everywhere, and a dance floor in the middle. 

“Okay so the objective is to mingle around with as many people as possible, okay?” your dad explains. 

You give him a light shake of your head and he drops your arm and struts over to a group of people, completely at ease. Not sure what to do you follow him towards the group. 

When he gets to the group they all exclaim his name and welcome him in like they’ve known him for years. 

“I said go mingle, and be polite, and just make a good example.” He shoves you off lightly. 

Not sure what he means by make a good impression you head over to the bar to get a drink. Noticing how young you are the bartender completely ignores you by serving everyone else around you. No one notices that you are there and does nothing to help you. 

“Can I get a glass of champagne and an old-fashioned?” a smoky voice asks. 

You look up to see none other than James Buchanan Barnes the former Winter Soldier. He has his hair slick back and a plain black tux. “You are James Buchanan Barnes,” you marvel. Then you shake your head and add, “I’m sorry if that was rude.” You look down at the bar ashamed of your behavior. 

“Hey, it’s fine. Really you’d be surprised how many people here look at me and see the terrifying ‘Winter Soldier’. It’s nice to meet someone who sees me for me.” 

“Oh yeah, I know none of that ‘Winter Soldier’ stuff is your fault. I mean you are a great person so I guess that’s all that matters,” you say with a shrug. 

He chuckles and asks, “Can I buy you a drink?” 

“Oh no, I can’t drink! I’m too young to drink. I’m just trying to get water.” 

“Thank you. Can I also get water please?” 

James Buchanan Barnes takes a sip of his old fashioned and asks, “Wait if you are so young what the hell are you doing at one of Tony Stark’s parties?” 

“Well my dad is here to make a good impression to these people for his job and my mom would have been his date but she had to stay home to take care of my brother. So he brought me.” You punctuate the sentence with a shrug. 

“Well how about you come over and meet the gang? Come with me.” He starts walking away but adds, “You can call me Bucky by the way.” 

Remembering what your dad said about being polite you promise yourself not to drool over the heroes and make a fool of yourself. Bucky leads you over to one of the couches, there are some people sitting on it some around it. You recognize all of them even in their fancy clothing. 

“Okay so this is Nat she is Russian and angry, don’t cross her. Tony the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Stevie the blond beauty.” Steve’s face blushes bright red. “Thor the muscular alien king. Loki the trickster he will try to kill you at some point, but it is okay because he is really just a softy.” Loki gives him a grunt and a dirty look. “Bruce, he is also a big softy, but don’t make him angry. Sam he really sucks, we just hang out with him because we pity him. Rhodes now him we all love. Peper, now she is the best, like the best, we all love her. Nick, he scares me, but I’m sure there is a sweetie inside under all of the angry shell. Clint, he is dumb and shoots arrows. Scott, he can make himself small and do close up magic. And everyone this is… I actually don’t know.” 

“My name is (Y/N). And it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

“Nonsense, we were just discussing soulmates. Where were you, Mr. Blond Beauty?” Tony teases. 

“I… was uh saying that when Bucky was regaining his memory, he would write little notes on his hands and they would show up on mine. It was kind of like a little peek into his head.” 

“Yeah, I get Stevie’s doodles on my skin,” Bucky swoons. They are staring lovingly into each other's eyes and everyone but you seems to find it disgusting and annoying. 

“Ignoring that, sometimes I see equations and whatnot show up on my skin, and I think it’s kind of cute seeing what Jane is working on when I’m not around,” Thor admits with a shrug. 

“Same!” Pepper and Natasha sigh at the same time, and that earns a chuckle out of everyone, a smirk from Tony, and a blush from Bruce. 

“Yeah every once and a while I get equations on my hands when Hope needs to remember stuff,” Scott adds rolling up his sleeve to show everyone. 

“What about you, (Y/N)? Any cool stuff on your skin?” Tony asks turning to you. 

Every eye in the group is staring at you. You can feel all of them beating down on you. You can’t mess up and embarrass your family so you simply say, “Yeah I guess, a phone number and a name here and there. Most of the time it is just due dates for projects at school.” 

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Stark. Everyone else, sorry,” says a cute little squeaky voice coming up behind you. The person the voice belongs to sits down next to you, almost on top of you. He has soft brown eyes, fluffy brown hair, a sharp jawline, and a smile that could light up the room. 

“Hey kid, nice suit,” Mr. Stark says, admiration in his eyes. 

“Where have you been, Pete?” Steve asks, leaning over you to tousle his hair. 

His face turns ruby red. “I had to wait for Aunt May to get out of work so she could drive me.” The boy scans the room his eyes stopping at you, he looks you up and down his jaw practically dropping to the floor. 

A navy blue ball gown is fanned out around you. The dress itself is a bit poofy at the bottom and floor-length, and it is decorated with lace appliques. White eyeshadow tinted with gold sparkles dusts your eyes and lip gloss coats your lips. You and your mom decide on just doing natural hair just using hairspray to keep it in a position you like. 

The boy's brown eyes skim over you again, stopping at your breasts before moving on to your lips, your nose, your shimmering eyes, and lands on your hair framing your face. 

“Hi,” he breathes a little smile on his face. “I’m Peter by the way.” 

“I’m (Y/N).” You look down your skin tinged red as a blush creeps up your neck and onto your cheeks. 

“How about you, sweetie?” Natasha asks looking at Peter. “What kind of stuff shows up on your skin?” 

“Oh my gosh, it is the most beautiful thing,” he gushes, “swirls and flowers and all kinds of designs. I love it every time I wake up there is a new one.” He pauses. “One night I was up late doing homework and I sat there for almost an hour watching the ink flow onto my skin. It was a few minutes until 4 by the time I couldn’t stand being up that long so I collapsed and by the time I woke up there was pen marks up my left arm almost like a sleeve tattoo.” 

You run your hand up your arm and goosebumps appear. 

“What is that on your arm, (Y/N)?” Bruce asks gesturing towards you. 

A surprised noise escapes your mouth and you look down reading the marks on the backside of your palm. They read, “Don’t forget to ask Tony about the rose for Aunt May”. 

“Um, it’s… just, um,” you stutter. 

Next to you, Peter’s eyes go wide as he reads and he slaps his hands over his mouth in surprise. Everyone can clearly see what is written on his hand matches what is on yours. 

“Well, you know what that means!” Tony whoops. 

Next thing you know you and Peter are caught in a dog pile as everyone in the group is on top of you. 

The rest of the night you and Peter take turns answering each other's and the rest of the group’s questions as a “get to know you”. 

#peter parker #tony stark #Steve Rogers #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #Bucky Barnes #thor #loki odinson #scott lang #james rhodes #pepper potts #clint barton #nick furry #sam willson #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #peter parker x reader

[jovialyouthmusic]

The Many Lives of Drake Walker

A Royal Romance Multiple AU fanfic

3 Having a Ball

I visit the stables with Drake and accompany him to the Masked Ball

The next morning I smiled to myself as I remembered my odd dream. I went to work still smiling, still remembering – wow, the things that came up from my subconscious – it was amazing. I came home, started dinner, welcomed my partner home, and we ate together companionably. We fell back into our familiar pattern, chatting, watching TV – he had woken earlier than I and went to bed while I stayed up, watched one of the TV shows that he didn’t follow, then sat down with my laptop to write again. I got into a good rhythm, and shook my head remembering…

‘Hey Les, are you there?’ I nearly jumped out of my skin – was I having the same dream again? I remembered what I’d dreamed up – or agreed – the night before, and minimised my document. There he was again, dark hair flopping over his forehead, chocolate brown eyes – was I asleep again?

‘Uh – yes I guess so’ He smiled ruefully.

‘You’re thinking it was all a dream, aren’t you? It’s okay, that’s normal. It doesn’t matter really, as long as you remember me. Do you want to come with me again?’

‘I – well what have I got to lose?’ he looked hurt.

‘I thought we’d connected last time. If you don’t want to…’ I thought fast. No matter whether this was a dream or not, I didn’t want to hurt him – after all, I’d shared some intimate moments with him, real or imagined.

‘No, it’s fine, I just – I’d love to, what do I have to do – oh yes I remember’ He smiled gratefully and put his hand to the screen. ‘Wait a minute, how do I know if you’re the same Drake?’ I asked, and he sighed.

‘I’ll always be here for you, but you’ll have to take it on trust this time, and I can give you something to link ourselves together. I promise I’m the same – the same ME that came to you last time’ He gazed at me through the screen ‘If you don’t trust me, I’ll understand…’ My heart did a little skip, feeling ashamed of myself for being suspicious.

‘I’m sorry, I do trust you’ I put my hand to the screen and closed my eyes, feeling the pull and nausea again, opening my eyes to find myself by his side. He beamed with happiness and steadied me as I swayed slightly.

‘Good to see you again. How was your day, Les?’

‘Uh, not bad I guess, uneventful’

‘Well that’s good to hear. I’m so pleased you decided to come again. Let’s just sit quietly and you can adjust. The more often you come here, the shorter the recovery time. Come, let’s talk things over’ We were in a space much like I’d discovered the previous day, but it was smaller and there was nobody else there. As if he’d read my mind, he spoke.

‘This is kind of a sand box. It’s neutral space, but you can change it however you’d like – it’s practice for if you need to modify any of the fics we end up in – pause or exit any situation you’re not happy with.’

‘Oh okay, what do I do?’

‘Well, to start with, just imagine somewhere we could sit together – just something simple, a couch perhaps.’ I thought hard, and a couch appeared, just like one at my childhood home, soft and welcoming. He looked at it

‘That’s a good start. Let’s try it out.’ He sat, and patted the space next to him. I sat nervously, my heart beating a little faster. He smiled, angling his body toward me, elbow resting on the back of the seat and gazing at me with his dark brown eyes. ‘I know this is odd for you – you’ve been intimate with me in your mind, but think – you’ve created this version of me to be attracted to you, but I’ve only made love to your surrogate – to Lucy and to Charlotte. I’ve never been intimate with you personally’ I felt my eyes widen

‘I’d not thought of that. I – I don’t really know how to go about it. If we’re following the original story it will be a long slow burn.’ I looked down at my hands ‘I’m afraid I might not live up to your expectations, after all I’m not really much like the original Riley’ he reached out to me, placing his hand on my arm.

‘It’s fine, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Why don’t we – go out on a date? We can go anywhere, do anything you want’ I thought for a while

‘I know you don’t like dancing – but what about the masked ball?’

‘you can have anything you like, you can make me the best damn dancer in the world’ he grinned

‘That would be out of character though – and remember, I’m not sure myself. Why don’t we learn together? I have a great idea for that… How do I make things happen?’

‘Imagine where first’ Drake replied, and I thought about a the ballroom at the Palace and it shimmered into shape around us.

‘Hey not bad’ he said ‘You just need a bit more detail’ I concentrated, and the blanks filled in.

‘How do you want to dress?’ he asked ‘Don’t forget me’ Closing my eyes, I thought about what I wanted to wear, remembering an ivory lace adorned ballgown, and made it skim over my figure and flare out below the waist, and ‘thought’ him into a sharp dark blue suit before I opened my eyes. He whistled

‘Nice, and a snazzy suit. Can I have a rose as a buttonhole?’ I blinked, and it popped into existence, red and fresh, the petals soft. ‘You know this isn’t my style, but I’ll go along with it for you Les’

‘How long do these things last?’ I asked

‘As long as you’re here’ he replied ‘but you can ‘save’ them for another time or archive them, it just gets easier to conjure up after the first time. Now how about music?’ Getting the hang of things, I conjured up a chamber orchestra softly playing.

‘How do I get other characters here? I asked. He looked at me quirkily

‘Think of them, and they’ll appear’ I closed my eyes, and the door to the ballroom opened. I gasped.

‘Prince Liam’ I found myself curtsying in amazement.

‘How good to meet you’ he said smoothly, and bowed back. Drake pursed his lips.

‘You know the rules buddy, she’s mine’ he said firmly, and Liam nodded.

‘Of course, how could I possibly forget, my friend’ he replied, and I blushed a little.

‘He’s just here to teach me to dance – and you have a partner too’ Drake sucked his breath in anticipation, and the door opened again. He smiled in relief.

‘Lady Hana, you don’t get out much, it’s good to see you’ She smiled and stepped up to me, embracing me softly.

‘Nice to meet you, Lesley, thanks for thinking of me’

‘Do you think you can teach Drake to dance? I asked, and she frowned.

‘I think so’ she said ‘It may take some time though’ Drake sighed. Liam took my hand and my waist.

‘If you please my lady – follow my lead’ For the next half hour or so, Drake and I worked with our partners. Liam was pleasant and polite, and there was nothing of the strangeness about him that Drake warned of – but apparently that was because I had ‘imagined’ him into existence so his appearance was stable. He was attractive, and I felt drawn toward him, but I was only too aware of Drake working with Hana. I gathered he was finding it a little difficult as Liam and I became smoother and smoother. My mind must have wandered to the original story, because I suddenly found myself out on the balcony with Liam. He bowed

‘Lesley’ he said ‘at last, we’re alone’

‘I – my mind must have wandered’ I protested ‘I – I like you but I’m sorry, my heart was always with Drake.’ He drooped visibly, then straightened up.

‘I’m so sorry, I just had to make sure. We’d better get back to the dancefloor’ Drake was looking down at his feet when we swooped back through the curtains, but he looked up as we approached him. Liam grinned

‘She passed the test’ he said, and took me to Drake’s side ‘I think it’s about time you danced together.’ Drake smiled broadly

‘I hope the lesson stuck with me’ he said ‘Would you care to dance, Les?’ The ballroom started to fill up, and I conjured up masks for all. Drake was still recognisable by his smile.

‘Everyone will wonder who the mysterious newcomer is’ he said ‘I may have to protect you from unwanted attention’ We started off across the floor. We wouldn’t win any medals, I concluded, but we were doing okay – no treading on toes, no bumping into other dancers.

‘Well this is nice.’ He concluded, then craned his neck ‘Oh - over there – isn’t that…’

‘Riley’ I smiled ‘I don’t see why she shouldn’t be here. I’d quite like to meet her’ Drake made a face.

‘She can be a bit annoying when there’s nobody driving her – very indecisive’ I laughed

‘I’m sorry, maybe I’ll regret my decision, but it was worth a try. Look, there she goes with Liam, sneaking behind the curtains. Do you think you’ll be able to keep your eyes off her once she comes back in? You’re not brooding over at the bar, after all’ The woman in the red dress wearing a mask and devil’s horns had found her Prince – at least for now. Drake held me closer.

‘Nope, I’ve got my love interest, no reason for me to go mooning over anyone else. Forgive me if I’m being insensitive, but it’s a relief to have someone ordinary, not devastatingly beautiful and accomplished’ he explained. I huffed

‘Well thanks Mr Grumpy’ I replied ‘But I do know what you mean. When I played the game through the first time I didn’t buy the flashy clothes. And I always did prefer Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester’

‘Ooh’ He replied ‘The gruff and no quite so handsome Mr Rochester huh? I can do that’

‘Drake, you are perfect as first written – honourable and conflicted, grumpy but sensitive’ He leaned close to my ear, his voice sending delicious tingles down my spine, and I fumbled a step.

‘I apologise for being devastatingly handsome’ he breathed, and I chuckled

‘Careful now, you could always acquire a scar or a hunchback’ Drake flinched.

‘Not so funny – y’know one of my early companions decided she hated the other characters looking at me and did a hatchet job on my face’ I gasped

‘Oh I’m sorry, that can’t have been pleasant. Don’t worry, I love your face as it is’

‘I’m glad to hear you say so. Now, my feet are killing me. Can we go and prop up the bar and do some people watching?’

‘Oh, and I was beginning to like you holding me close’ I made an exaggerated pout. He growled, making my knees go weak and I had to hold on tighter.

‘I like it too you know, we could take this somewhere else.’

‘Woah there tiger, that’s a bit fast, let’s get to know each other a little better’ I replied, and he shrugged.

‘Okay, but I genuinely like you and there is definitely potential for more than liking. But I’m not in a hurry’

‘Okay – let’s go people watch, I expect you don’t often get to do what you want’ We started out to the bar, but on the way someone stopped us.

‘Why Drake, who is this enchanting creature you have on your arm? Another companion?’

‘Lay off Max, you have enough peacocks, she’s not going to magic up any more for you’ Drake said drily

‘Oh, now you’ve given my identity away, I wanted to be the mysterious young man who sweeps her off her feet with my incredible dancing skills’

‘Max, you’re wearing the squid tie, she’d have worked it out pretty quick’ The young man subsided.

‘You’re no fun Drake, but what’s new? So, what’s your name, potential House Beaumont benefactor?’

‘Lesley. Pleased to meet you, Max’ I shook his hand, and he drew me in for a hug.

‘Hugsies, not handshakes for my friends’ he grinned ‘So can I interest you in a dance, pretty lady?’

‘Thankyou, but I’m danced out for now. Maybe another time, I’m just a beginner and pretty much the same level as Drake.’ Maxwell leaned over and spoke softly in my ear.

‘Tell me Lesley, did you ever consider me as a love interest? I don’t get out to play much’ he asked.

‘Oh I’m sorry Max, Drake’s my man, always was – you’re a little young for me.’ He brightened up a bit.

‘Hey, you know a lot of writers have me with older women – maybe a little fling? Huh?’

‘Sorry Max, the answer’s still no. I have sons your age’ I said regretfully. He deflated a little.

‘Well okay, maybe you could write me a love interest?’

‘Perhaps. Now I’m going to the bar and do a little people watching.’ We hadn’t gone a few steps when we were stopped again.

‘Well well Walker, you appear to have found another admirer. It must be good to be so popular, how many is it now?’ I wasn’t entirely sure who it was, as not many folk had a faceclaim for Anton Severus – but Drake’s reply confirmed my suspicions.

‘Back off Anton, and don’t cause any trouble.’ Drake growled ‘She knows all about you’

‘Oh, but she writes me so well’ he took my hand and kissed it, looking deep into my eyes ‘I can tell she’s tempted by a bad boy like you and me, otherwise she’d be with Mr Too Good to be True Rys’ I collected myself quickly

‘There’s bad, and there’s bad’ I replied ‘Drake’s grumpy, not bad, and his heart is in the right place even if he finds it difficult to express his feelings. I’m not sure if you have a heart – or feelings’ Drake grinned widely

‘Oh she got you there Severus - BURN’ he laughed. Anton scowled and let go of my hand.

‘Fine, enjoy yourselves. Just watch your step, remember she’s not the only one who writes me into the story’

‘Better hope she doesn’t play one where you get executed or bumped off, buddy’ said Drake ‘Now excuse us, we have an appointment with a rather nice single malt. Coming, Les?’ he took my arm and we walked away to the bar. He leaned in to me as he sat and raised his finger to order two neat whiskies – the barman knew his preference.

‘You know, you could make him disappear if you wanted – or we could go somewhere else, good practice if we needed to get out of a situation fast.’

‘If I decide to – teleport out, for want of a better word – would you come with me by default, or would you get left behind?’

‘Oh!’ he said, raising a finger ‘I forgot – you need a token, and I’ll be able to follow wherever you go and it will let you know if it’s me – this particular Drake, or another.’ He rummaged in his jacket pocket, and drew out a chain – a silver chain.

‘Is this…?’ I asked , and he put it carefully into my hand

‘The chain with the cartridge from my first shooting session with my father. The one I gave Charlotte in Charlotte’s Choice’ he said quietly ‘It will appear every time you come here, it won’t exist on the other side of the screen. It will normally adjust to your body heat, but if any other Drake tried to pass himself off as me, or we lose each other, it will feel cold and very heavy. Plus only I know about it’

‘Thankyou’ I said, smiling. Whether or not Drake’s father had ever existed in a real sense, in this world, to Drake he had, and this was a very touching gesture. ‘I really appreciate it’ I hung it around my neck Drake turned back to the bar.

‘You could write in a decent whiskey you know, I don’t know how things taste on the other side of the screen, but I can tell the difference between a cheap blend and a single malt.’ I looked at the bottle behind the bar and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, it had been replaced, and Drake exclaimed.

‘Fuck, that changed mid mouthful. That’s a neat trick! Thanks Les’ He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I could smell the spirit on his breath along with a masculine musky smell, dark and peaty and smoky. I felt my cheeks redden and felt a tingle deep down in my core. He noticed my embarrassment, and grinned. He handed me my glass.

‘Cheers Les, here’s to a successful partnership.’ I took a sip of the whiskey – it was smooth and peaty, just the way I liked it.

‘Will I feel the effects when I go back?’ I asked curiously ‘How about a hangover?’

‘You can get as drunk as you like, or not let it affect you at all, and you won’t feel any symptoms when you get back. That’s what one of the previous – what someone else noticed.’

‘Oooh now that sounds good. Just a little buzz will do me nicely. I don’t like getting too drunk – but I’ve seen some pretty funny stuff featuring you drunk’ He made a face.

‘Please don’t do it – even though you don’t feel the effects of alcohol, I sure as hell do. There was one writer – well let’s say my virtual liver was happy when she had to stop writing because she had a baby to look after’

‘So’ I said, leaning on the bar and scanning the room ‘It’s not so easy people watching when everyone wears a mask. But it might make a fun guessing game.’ I pointed at a woman in a red dress and flowing auburn locks ‘No prizes for spotting Olivia – and that blonde sitting at the side taking notes must be Madeleine’

‘Yup, you’re one hundred percent right. See if you can spot Penelope and Kiara’

‘Oh my goodness – is that…’ I put my hands over my eyes ‘She’s actually wearing a poodle mask’ Drake chuckled.

‘Got it in one. Now Kiara – take a good look’ I scanned the room, and spotted a girl with caramel skin and glossy black hair, wearing an elaborate Venetian mask and a deep purple gown.

‘Oh, she’s very elegant – very chic’ I smiled. ‘I never really wrote a big role for her so she’ll not be the baddie that a lot of folk make her out to be’

‘Not unless you want her to be’

‘I think she was an easy option to be honest’ I said ‘But as you know, I poured all my evil energy into Anton.’ Drake grimaced

‘Bastard’ he said simply ‘I don’t know what you see in him’

‘He’s just a foil, something to drive the plot’ I replied ‘It would be boring if everything was sweetness and light. You have to fight a little to appreciate the prize, and making him handsome puts a little frisson into it’  He grunted

‘Huh, I suppose so. There’s something I’d really like to do before you have to go – can we go out onto the balcony? Make it moonlit?’ I smiled and closed my eyes to imagine it, and when I opened my eyes we were standing looking out over the moonlit gardens. I gasped

‘How could I have imagined this? It’s amazing’

‘There is a sort of residual memory that holds common places’ said Drake ‘If that makes sense.’

‘I suppose so. Now, what was it you wanted to do?’ Drake stepped closer

‘This’ he said quietly, and put his hand to my chin, gazing into my eyes. I caught my breath and closed my eyes as he closed in and kissed me softly. I felt myself melt into his waiting embrace. It felt wonderful, no awkwardness, no guilt – it just felt amazing. He drew back ‘How was that?’

‘I – it was perfect. Thankyou Drake’ I looked down at my hand to see it fading again like last time.

‘I enjoyed it too. Now go and make your partner realise what a wonderful person he has by his side. See you next time, Les’

 @ao719 @agent-bossypants @andy-loves-corgis @sleepwalkingelite @boneandfur @blackcatkita @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicescommunity @darley1101 @drakewalkerrosenberg @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @goirishsunshine @gardeningourmet @livingthroughchoices @likethetailofacomet @mrs-nazario @mind-reader1 @ooo-barff-ooo @silviasutton1989 @speedyoperarascalparty @zaffrenotes @missevabean @mrsdrakewalkerblog @cora-nova @missameliep @tanelle83 @endlessly-searching-for-you @jlouise88 @drakenazario @tabithacarlisle @furiousherringoperatortoad @notoriouscs @classylady1234 @wickedgypsymoon @carabeth @choices-fangirl @indiana-jr @indiacater @noey718-blog @katedrakeohd @bobasheebaby @annekebbphotography  @kennaxval @sirbeepsalot @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @aworldoffandoms @iplaydrake @drakesensworld @drakewalkerisreal @samcpossum

#many lives #drake walker #drake x oc #the royal romance

[jilliemiw86]

Lips of an Angel  Chapter 7: Planning and Planning and Planning

Camo by Blake and Mia and so much wedding stuff ugh

“Three choices, three that it,” Danielle said to Arat as she rummaged through the pile of dresses that were on the table inside the market. “There is nothing I mean nothing about this wedding that is going to be normal why do I have to wear white.”

“Simon told me that he wanted you to wear something white,” Arat said looking down and lifting up a beautiful dress it was floor length sleeveless it was ivory with a lace overlay, it had a keyhole back but the front was modest and completely covered. “This is not white but its gorgeous I think it will look stunning on you”

Danielle turned around and looked at the dress it was stunning. “I love it yes that's it “ Danielle grabbed the dress and walked over to the shoes she was shorter than Simon so she knew she wanted some heels. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw them beautiful ivory lace heeled ankle boots they were a size to big but nothing a little tissue in the front of the boot wouldn't fix.

The wedding wasn't for another two weeks but Simon wanted to make sure everything was perfect. He found an older gentleman Keith who worked in laundry who just happened to be an officiant and could marry him and Danielle officially. He had found a beautiful garden at Hilltop full of roses of different shades of reds and pinks that he was going to make a bouquet from for his bride and her maid of honor ( who Danielle still had not asked). Simon had gathered ingredients for a vanilla bean cake with vanilla frosting, enough for about 25 people or so ( which was way more than they needed ).

“Well I have the dress the shoes and Negan has offered Amber's services for hair and make-up I guess she was in cosmetology or something like that.”  “Arat thank you so much for all your help I appreciate it” Danielle said while giving a big bear hug. “ your welcome Danielle if there is anything else I can do just let me know,” Arat said as she walked off. Danielle was on a mission now to get her maid of honor out of the way. She walked down the hallway and up the staircase and to the big doors taking a deep breath she knocked. She could hear the little pitter patter of Mia's footsteps “Bweaky sowone at the dooorrrr” she said in a sing-songy voice “ ok baby I got it “ Blake opened the door and got a huge smile on her face “ well hello there bride to be” she motioned for you to come in. You walked in and sat on the leather couch placing you head in your hands. “Ugh seriously I don't know why he is making this such a big deal, Tomorrow he is heading out to see if he can find wedding bands” Blake came over sat down and started rubbing Danielle's back. “He is so in love with you he just wants you to have the day you deserve the day every bride to be deserves.” “ I guess your right I just hate the attention “ Danielle got up and started to pace the room “ I came here to ask you a question, Negan is going to stand next to Simon as his best man so I need a Maid of honor and you have become a fast friend and I was just wondering if you would want to..... I mean I totally understand if you don't want to … but” Danielle was cut off by Blake grabbing her into a hug “ Of course ill be your Maid of Honor Oh my god I would love too.” “ What color do I need to wear “  “ you will need to find red dress and little Mia over there needs pink because she is the flower girl” Danielle said going over and picking Mia up “Would you like to be the flower girl sweetie” Mia looked up and smiled so wide. “ Danwell yeshhh fower grl I want fower grl” She said while wrapping her tiny arms around her neck and giving a sloppy kiss.

Danielle walked the hall back to her and Simon’s room when she opened the door she was not surprised when Simon was not there. He had been gone “planning” the past week he was worse than a blushing bride to be. She sighed and went over to the dresser which held her clothes, she grabbed a white tank top and white boy short panties that had pink hearts on them. Walking over to there bathroom she stripped her clothes and turned the knob making the water as hot as it would go she stepped under the shower head and leaned her head back letting out a sigh of relief. After the relaxing shower she got out got dressed letting her wet hair cascade down her shoulders.

Walking back into the bedroom Danielle walked over to the vinyle record player searching the records finding the one she wanted the music started and “Crazy Train” from Ozzy Osbourne was blaring she walked over grabbed the book she had been reading “ The amittyville Horror” she laid down on the bed on her stomach and started reading .

Simon was walking down the hallway to the room when the all to familiar sound of old rock was heard Simon smiled to himself “God i love her” he opened the door and saw her laying there reading she was perfect. “Hey baby” Simon said walking over and kissing her temple. “Hey handsome how was your day” “I got alot accomplished but now that i am here with you its ending perfect” he grabbed the book folded the page so not to lose your spot and placed it on the nightstand. Danielle rolled over onto her back and waved her finger for Simon to get inbetween her legs without hesitaton Simon unbottoned his brown button down and slipped it off  climbing inbetween her legs “I love you Danielle” he said as he dipped his head and captured her lips. Danielle kissed back running her tongue along his bottom lip while running her nails up and down his back. She leaned back “ I love you too my soon to be wonderful husband.”

@collette04

@neganandblake 

#twd simon #steven ogg #fanfiction