#i also read aloud from the little prince for her at which she laughs but it's a good process

[twstjam]

Lost Invitation (Part 2) - Respond, if you please

Sorry, I said half an hour, but blocking people took a bit longer than expected <3 Starting from now I'll be blocking everyone who likes Lost Invitation without reblogging it. If you reblog it onto a sideblog and I've blocked your main, do tell me or you might miss out on updates!!

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Meleanor Draconia, Levan Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver (brief), Sebek Zigvolt (mentioned), Yuu (mentioned) Word count: 4.6k (sorry, I got carried away writing the draconia fam lol) Summary: You're committed to helping Riddle Rosehearts and his card soldiers in a war against followers of the Jabberwock looking to usurp the rulers of Red and White. You're also in love with a stranger you met in the woods who wants you to run away with him. Whoever said that love and war weren't so different might've been onto something. In your experience, they're both equally difficult. Nobody ever said that you had to choose between one or the other though. Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Prince Malleus Draconia is not lonely.

He hasn't been since before he hatched, his mother had made sure of it. He has faded memories of dozing off to his mother's soft singing, listening to his father's long ramblings, and curling up in the safety of the right-hand general's presence.

After hatching, his mother had doted on him like any prince of the Briar Lands deserved to be. Her and Father had indulged his every whim and desire. The servants bowed and trembled before the wrath of a newly-born dragonling who, though only three feet long, snarled his grievances accompanied by licks of fire and brewing snowstorms. Lilia Vanrouge was the only one to not kneel so easily.

Malleus Draconia was a prince and a hatchling, but Lilia did not treat him as such. Lilia scolded him like he would Mother, a matured dragon, and only complimented or rewarded him when he earned it. Needless to say, he was not favored amongst the little prince's guardians… or so Lilia says as he laments on the times Malleus used to set his hair ablaze. It had enlightened Malleus as to why the general currently wears his hair so short as opposed to the portraits he'd seen, but the prince—as it is the nature of fleeting old memories—cannot vividly recall his caretaker's tales. They also struck him as incredibly odd and he concluded that as an infant he had been a foolish thing (despite his parents' insistence otherwise). After all, Lilia is his most favored caretaker. This favoritism had even led to Malleus seeking Lilia out when he had hidden himself away one day, giving the prince the honor of being the first to meet the general's adopted son.

Silver had been an enigma to him. How could a meek little human infant, a species which his mother mocked frequently for their weakness and stupidity, appeal to a hardened fae general? It was even stranger to him that Mother seemed to completely forget her disdain for humans when she saw the little bundle in Lilia's arms. Though he would never say it aloud, Malleus had felt betrayed when his mother had asked to hold the child and took him from Lilia eagerly.

This little… thing, could not even hold itself up or eat solid food, let alone seek it out itself. It was useless and weak and nothing like the fierce creature Malleus had been when he broke out of his shell. Or at least, that's what Malleus used to think.

Truly, Malleus must not have been as exceptional of an infant as his parents insist. Malleus had spent 20 years crawling, meanwhile Silver mastered walking on two legs in mere months. Instead of cawing and snarling, the child babbled and laughed, elicited smiles from those around him, made warmth swell in Malleus's chest when he called the prince's name for the first time. The boy had still been small, not even 5 years old, and yet he had been able to climb up Malleus's legs and sit on his lap when he had invited him to read with him.

Sebek exhibited similar speed in growth. Malleus had blinked, and suddenly the little halfling had risen from a screeching newt into a strong guard that rivaled his own grandfather. Sebek likes to shadow him, always quick to see to his every need and always eager to win his approval. It's overbearing at some points, but the boy is growing and learning and has come to put his loyalty to use for only matters worthy of it, learning from Lilia and Silver to not merely agree to Malleus's every breath.

The revelation for such a change brought all four of them closer. It's not rare to see the two young knights by the prince's side, the former general watching after them from not far off.

Suffice to say, Malleus Draconia is not lonely. Absolutely not.

As a matter of fact, he quite likes being alone; the peacefulness of isolation, the escape from his demanding responsibilities. He has to return to the castle at some point of course. He has duties to his kingdom, but no matter how brief, he takes the opportunity to have some time for himself. To have some time to indulge his desires instead of being Prince Malleus; to be away from the expectations of his subjects and parents and instead cater to only himself.

He never quite expected to meet someone searching for something similar. At the very least, not at the same place, and you continued to surprise him in ways he could have never imagined.

After all, who could have predicted that a revered dragon prince of the fae would fall in love with a human?

----

Perhaps to any other, days at Wild Rose Castle could be considered dull, either because of the dim lighting and black walls or the castle staff that always hurry by without a whisper of a breath and with bowed heads.

If one were to ask Malleus however, he would say that days at the castle are always hectic. It's a good day when the castle is serenely dark and gloomy, but on others…

"Your DISGRACE of an offspring is a pathetic sprite unworthy of my son! How DARE you even consider a courtship between them?!"

Lightning fills the throne room with a bright purple light. Three aristocrats yelp and scramble to avoid the strikes of lightning coming down from the ceiling. Princess Meleanor's glare is deadly as she lifts and aims her staff to bring down another volley of lightning.

"P-p-please forgive us for our transgressions, your excellency!" the patriarch weeps as his family collapses to the floor in frantic bows. From his throne, Malleus can see the family's young heir trembling with choked sobs. His mother isn't the least bit appeased, her glare hardening and her staff crackling with power.

"ENOUGH! I will not tolerate any more nonsense out your blabbering mouth! You have come into my home, insulted my son, and dirtied my floor!" Meleanor raises her staff with a furious snarl. The magic surrounding it strikes the ceiling and deflects into multiple bolts of lightning throughout the throne room. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DO NOT DARKEN MY DOORSTEP EVER AGAIN!"

The nobles scramble back onto their feet and skitter out with fearful screams. The wails of Malleus's attempted suitor echo through the halls of the castle until the doors slam shut behind them.

Meleanor raises her head proudly, huffing a satisfied plume of smoke out of her nostrils. Beside the sighing Lord Levan, Lilia Vanrouge has his head in his hands.

"What nerve, to ask permission for our Malleus's hand whilst showing such disrespectful behavior!" Meleanor spins around with a flare of her cloak and seats herself on her throne, one leg crossed over the other. "I should have incinerated that child where they stood!"

"I'm quite certain your outburst had spoken the message quite clearly, my lady," Lilia says with no small amount of disapproval.

"I agree with Lilia." Malleus's mother whirls around to face him with a betrayed expression on her face. "It is no fault of theirs that I failed to give my full attention to them. They had every right to call out my rude behavior."

Meleanor scowls and tosses her head again. "If you exhibit overly courteous behavior then those stuck-up aristocrats will become too comfortable to speak ill of you. As a dragon, you must present yourself as one!"

"That courteousness is the only reason the staff does not perish within breathing distance of him," Lilia argues. Meleanor shoots him a glare but he isn't deterred. "The poor boy already has issue forming relationships. Your volcanic temper is not doing him any favors."

"I will deal with those interested in the future king of the Briar Lands and my son however I wish! In case you have forgotten, I am your princess and his mother!"

"He is 178, he is not a hatchling, Meleanor!"

"Regardless of his age I have no intention of allowing him to be mistreated or his heart to be broken."

"At the expense of others?!"

"Yes!"

"Ah, there he goes."

Meleanor straightens up from how she had been bent over to glare at the short general and they both look over at Levan. They follow his gaze and briefly see Malleus's tail slipping out of the throne room.

"Darling!" Meleanor gathers her skirt to dash after her son. As Malleus makes his escape, Lilia groans and slumps over the arm of Levan's throne. His friend pats his back in sympathy.

"You really must do something about that wife of yours," Lilia grumbles. Levan laughs nervously, but there's also fondness in his eyes.

"She is simply doing what she thinks is best for our son."

"It isn't and you know it is!" Lilia huffs, craning his neck to glare up at the lord. The corvid fae smiles sweetly and leans towards him with his elbows resting on the armrest.

"Have I told you how much cuter you look when you're angry?"

Lilia sputters, face turning vibrant red. "Be serious!"

"I am serious," Levan hums as he reaches to tuck some hair behind Lilia's ear. The other general swats his hand away and he laughs at the flustered pout on the smaller fae's face. "I pity those nobles, truly I do, but like you and I, I have a feeling our Meleanor knows that our young prince is keeping a secret. So at the end of the day, there is no harm done, hm?"

Lilia gapes and blinks at Levan in bewilderment.

"He told you?"

Levan smiles secretively, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. He must know as much as Lilia does then, and though he is relieved to know that his friend is supportive of Malleus's feelings, he still dreads the inevitable of Meleanor discovering it for herself. Meleanor is both temperamental and viciously protective of her child, especially since his life had been threatened after she laid his egg during the human invasion centuries ago. It's quite easy to imagine her most likely reaction to her son being interested in courting a human.

"He did. He also requested assistance from me." Levan looks up and his eyes brighten. "There it is now."

Levan waves his hand. Lilia's keen ears catch the sound of beating wings and he turns around to see a window opening. A raven flies into the throne room and settles on Levan's offered arm. The bird caws a greeting to Lilia before bowing its head to the lord.

"Welcome back, my friend," Levan coos as he strokes its wing. "What news do you bring from the Rose Queendom?"

Lilia perks up at mention of the Rose Queendom and looks at the bird with interest. The familiar makes a series of clicks and squawks. Lilia isn't the most fluent in corvid speak so he waits for Levan to translate, but when he looks to his friend, the other fae's smile has turned into an ominous frown.

"…It's not good news, I'm guessing."

----

Malleus typically finds comfort in isolation. It brings him the silence he requires to think and focus on both official and personal matters. Unfortunately though, for his current predicament, his most trusted method of comfort only seems to distress him more.

The conflict between the Rose and Lily Queendoms is taking it's toll on you. It's inevitable—He sees it a lot in Father and Lilia, how their gazes would sometimes look haunted by ghosts unseen to him even when doing the most mundane tasks —but that does not mean Malleus has to like it, or that either him or you should simply allow it to wear you down.

Sometimes, when he is speaking with you, you would get a faraway look in your eyes, lost in thought. During those moments the bags beneath your eyes look more prominent, your body thinner, your skin paler. You would apologise for losing track of the conversation and Malleus would excuse it, but within his chest a pit grew deeper and deeper, filling with irrational concern for you.

The desire to hoard and care for those most cherished to him isn't a foreign feeling to Malleus. He recalls that at a young age he would nest with his parents at night and steal Lilia and his father's weapons to stop them from leaving the castle for their duties. Now, he watches over Silver while he sleeps and sits at the water's edge when Sebek practices his swimming.

It is something normal for dragons to want their loved ones happy and safe, but the way he feels it with you is incomparable. He cares for you, (which had initially surprised him, to care for a strange human) there's no doubt about it, but more than anything else he wants to be the one to care for you, to ensure your safety. To take you away and tuck you inside his wings, to gift you all the luxuries you could ever need so that you would no longer be hurt or troubled.

And the strangest thing? He desires the same thing from you as well. For you to care for him, cherish him, want him, love him. For you to take his hand and let him whisk you away to somewhere the two of you could see and speak to each other every day, where you could sit and listen contentedly to him and him to you and help him with his woes like he wishes to help you with yours.

Confiding in Lilia had been what led him to realise his feelings for you. The older fae's recollection of his parents' courtship had been… concerning, but it reassured Malleus that his desires were not unusual and that, most importantly, his beloved caretaker accepted you.

It had taken more courage to approach Lord Levan, but he should have known that his understanding father would support him wholeheartedly. At Malleus's request, his father had sent one of his ravens to the Queendom and Malleus now spends almost every waking moment anxious for its return.

Telling his mother about you is… another matter entirely.

You were right that it wouldn't be wise to bring you into his home. He loves his mother, but like him, she possesses the nature of the dragon. She is caring, excessively so, and… incredibly protective, to say the least.

And to say that Malleus is fearful of her discovering his romantic feelings for you, a human—a race she loathes with her entire being—is an understatement.

You are fearless, perhaps a little foolish, but not saneless. She will chase you off as she has many others. The incident today was only one of many.

Regardless of his mother's ill manners and your reluctance to be with him, Malleus's heart does not stop yearning and yearn he does as he sits alone in his rose garden, innocent red rose in hand, plucking each poor petal after the other as his thoughts whirl around his mind uselessly.

Perhaps he should have been more insistent. Perhaps he should have taken you back anyway. Perhaps—

"Malleus?"

The click of his mother's heels on the garden's stone path grow louder with each approaching step. Meleanor appears beneath the rose arch to the gazebo and Malleus hurriedly brushes off the petals that have gathered on his lap.

"There you are. I have been looking for you, dear." Mother smiles as she walks up the steps of the gazebo, the long train of her skirt dragging behind her. She eyes the rose petals scattered around him. "What are you doing?"

"Ah. I am picking rose petals… for tea." His mother raises an eyebrow at his reluctant tone so he quickly diverts the topic. "Am I needed somewhere, Mother?"

"No, no." Meleanor sweeps up her cloak to that it isn't trampled beneath her when she takes a seat next to him. "I was merely worried." With gentle claws, she cradles Malleus's chin and lifts his gaze to hers. "I did not scare you, did I?"

"No—" Never, he wants to say. Even if she can summon the most destructive storms and move mountains with a snap of her fingers, Malleus can never be afraid of his mother, but the churning feelings in his gut lodges the words in his throat.

Malleus pulls away from her touch, looking away before he can see her frown. "I apologise, Mother. I exhibited behavior unbecoming of a prince in front of our visitors."

Instead of reprimanding him, his mother laughs. She's always so self-assured; with her magic, with her choices. It's one of the many things he admires but also envies about his mother. If only he can reach that point of confidence in his life much sooner.

"My silly little beast. There is nothing to apologise for," his mother coos, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with a careful talon. "You did no harm. After all, you have been so distracted because you already have your eye on someone, don't you?"

Malleus turns towards his mother, wide-eyed, and her eyes glitter with excitement as she grins.

"How did you—" Malleus stops himself. How is he supposed to tread this? "…Did Father tell you?"

Meleanor's smile falls. "No, but I am hurt you chose to tell him before me."

Malleus swallows. He laces his fingers together in an effort to make himself feel less unsteady. "How do you know, then?"

"Come now, you didn't think a mother would not be able to see that her son has fallen in love, did you?" Meleanor giggles behind her claws, eyes bright with eagerness. She leans in towards her son and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me, tell me; what are they like? How did you meet? And most importantly: When will I meet them?"

Malleus opens his mouth and pauses. What does he tell her? Every scale on his being is restless, eager at the presented opportunity to talk about you, but certainly, he cannot tell his mother about you. About your humanity. She would, as Lilia frequently describes it, erupt. He did not need that display from earlier in the throne room to know this well.

(He grew up all his life with it after all; His mother losing her head at every slight insult or threat towards him and striking it with bolts of lightning until it runs away screaming.)

Malleus does not fear his mother, let alone resent her, but he does rather often catch himself wondering what it would be like if she were not so hot-headed.

"They are…" Malleus quickly trails off as soon as the attempt begins. He glances at his mother warily. She is giving him her full attention. The support should be encouraging, but the dread within him only increases. "You cannot meet them."

His mother reels back as if he had shocked her with electricity. Her eyes widen and then narrow. Her brows furrow and her lips pull into a displeased pout.

"Whyever not? …Are you ashamed of me?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Embarrassed, perhaps?"

"Far from it."

"Then do you fear that I would scare them off?"

"Yes— Ah, I mean—!" Malleus screws his mouth shut and looks away again. Meleanor chuckles in amusement.

"Silly beast," she tuts. Behind him, Malleus's tail thumps agitatedly and she twines her own around it to soothe him. "I am flattered that you think so highly of me, but I assure you that any mate worthy of you will not cower so easily before me."

Malleus wraps his tail around his mother's offered one, but his expression is one of scepticism. "How do you know for certain? Do you truly have so much faith in my choice of a partner?"

"Oh, of course not! You are still just a little beast after all," Meleanor teases with a light pinch to his cheek. "What I mean is that, whoever you choose, we shall know if they are truly the correct mate for you if they remain beside you regardless of any trials."

"Oh… I see…" Malleus lowers his head. He clasps his hands tightly together. He can still remember the phantom feeling of your own hands on them, of you pulling away from him. Of him watching your retreating back after once more rejecting his offer to take you away.

"Darling?" His mother places her hands on his and the memory fades away. "Is something the matter?"

"I… I want you to meet them, truly I do, but…" Your face flashes before his eyes again, with it your shy smile and your voice whispering,

"Someday."

Malleus gathers his resolve and faces his mother. "Not anytime soon, I fear."

His mother pouts again. "Oh, come now—!"

"I don't think they would fear you." There's no way to know for certain until you actually meet her, but it is something he's fairly confident in. "It is that… they are currently occupied and will not be able to make time to come to our lands in the near future."

Meleanor's eyes light up with newfound interest. "Oh? They are not of the Briar Fae?"

Malleus bites his lip anxiously. "Er, no. They are—"

A bird sings overhead. The two dragons on the gazebo lift their heads and see a silver-haired knight walk through the rose arch.

"Lady Meleanor, Lord Malleus." Silver dips into a quick bow and rises again. "I apologise for interrupting."

"Oh, Silver! What a pleasant surprise. Have you finished your training today? Come, come. It has been too long since we last spoke." Meleanor beckons to the young knight to sit next to her.

"Er, if I recall correctly, we spoke just this morning—!"

Meleanor doesn't let him hesitate for long. She crooks her finger and wisps of purple magic tug on his uniform until he's standing on the gazebo.

"I apologise profusely, my lady," Silver stammers as her magic fades off of his clothes. "But I'm afraid I cannot stay long, my father requests to see Lord Malleus—"

"Does he!" Meleanor's eyebrows are arched, her expression devious in a way both boys know does not hold good intentions for their respective fathers. "How fortunate, I was hoping to speak to him about Malleus."

"Mother—"

"Lady Meleanor—"

Before either boy could get a word in, magic begins to swirl around the princess's fingers and she chants, "Come, my eyes and ears, my wings and feet."

Magic swirls and shimmers around her. Beneath her feet, her shadow ripples, and a raven bursts out of it with a frantic caw.

"Now why are you in such a hurry?" Meleanor tuts, easily catching the bird out of the air before it could fly off. The bird squawks and flaps its one wing that hadn't managed to be caught in her hand. She directs a firm gaze on it and it freezes, letting a pathetic noise out of its beak. Malleus winces in sympathy.

"Where is my Right?" Meleanor looks down at her shadow, displeased, but quickly smiles again when she turns to Silver. "Give me a hand, dear."

With them pointing downwards, Meleanor pinches together the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. She makes a pulling motion and a squealing bat emerges out of Silver's shadow. It manages to escape the princess's grasp on it but only briefly before she catches it by its legs.

The bat squeaks and screams, no doubt profanities blasphemous when directed at the crown princess, but she is unfazed. Silver looks down at the poor creature apologetically as it clings to his uniform in an attempt to shake off the dragoness's claws.

"What is the matter with you? Stop behaving so childishly. Look, your son is being much more mature than you, how embarrassing." Meleanor forces the bat to let go of the boy and holds it upside down, continuing to be unfazed as it claws at her lace gloves angrily. "You should know better than to ignore a summons from your mistress."

She shakes the bat in a not-so-gentle manner and the animal grows in size and changes shape until Lilia is hanging by the ankles. The raven does the same, but Meleanor lets Levan go so he can perch on her arm more comfortably.

"—the matter with you! You absolutely insane princess!" Lilia yells once he's finally taken his two-legged form again.

"Yes, you're very adorable, dear," Meleanor says dismissively with a pinch to his nose. Lilia hisses at her, but despite his complaints there's no real heat to them and he calms down quickly. "Now, my loves, when were the two of you going to tell me that a secret someone has caught our Malleus's interest?"

"I sincerely apologise, darling," Levan says mournfully, and any amount of aggression in his wife's expression fades away when he pecks a kiss on her cheek. "but it was not our secret to tell."

"Alright, I suppose I can forgive that. I'm sorry, dears." Meleanor looks at her son and husband fondly but scowls when she turns to Lilia. "Not you."

Lilia sticks his tongue out at her without remorse. With difficulty, he twists around to address Silver. "You've found Malleus! Well done, my boy."

"Thank… you, Father."

"What is it that you wished to speak to me about?" Malleus asks, tilting his head in an effort to meet Lilia's eyes. The bat fae exchanges a look with the prince's father and then glances at the princess holding him captive.

"Perhaps we should wait until later—"

"Wonderful, since I wished to speak to both of you about a different matter." Meleanor's expression turns into a deceptively sweet one that immediately has Lilia's face souring. "My loves, would you tell Malleus that you also desperately wish to meet this secret potential mate of his?"

She flutters her eyelashes for good measure. Malleus sighs and shakes his head.

"Mother…"

"I know what you said, but perhaps with encouragement from all three of us we can twist a few rules…"

"Actually, my love, what we wish to discuss concerns this… person." Meleanor raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her husband sitting on her arm.

"What?" All eyes turn to Malleus. The prince suddenly rises from his seat, pupils thinned to slits. Leftover rose petals scatter to his feet. "Has something happened to them?"

"I apologise, Malleus, but Lilia is right." Levan casts a quick look towards Meleanor and Malleus understands immediately.

Meleanor looks frustratedly between her son and husband, unhappy at being the only one uninformed. "Now what is this about? Why are you so reluctant to speak of this person within my presence?"

Lilia purses his lips, determined to not say a thing, meanwhile Levan looks towards his son again meaningfully.

Malleus takes a breath.

"It is what I have been meaning to tell you. Mother…" Malleus glances at Silver standing to the side, at attention. "Silver is a human."

Meleanor blinks. She looks at Silver, back at Malleus, and then bursts into laughter.

"But of course he is, silly beast!"

Malleus attempts to continue, but she doesn't stop laughing like it's the most hilarious joke she's heard in a century. He looks to his father helplessly. Levan gives him an encouraging smile but the doubt that twitches the edges of his lips isn't very reassuring. Meanwhile, Lilia sighs exasperatedly and Silver frowns in confusion.

"Well, Mother…" Meleanor keeps laughing and the longer the seconds tick by the more his confidence falters. Perhaps… If he says it now, she won't hear and she can remain in ignorant bliss. "This person I am in love with is a human as well."

The laughter stops so abruptly that the deadly silence sounds as loud as a crash of thunder.

"What."

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleyuu #meleanor draconia #levan draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x you #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x mc

[gina103]

Girl From The Belly Ch 5

Ch 5 - word count: 1764 Previous - Next

Lina’s feet were already hurting, and it was only eight in the morning.

Her father had abruptly woken her up two hours earlier, telling her that it was now Lina’s turn to help him out at the market that day. Although Idris had gone with him the previous day, he apparently needed the entirety of today to rest, pack, and prepare to go back on patrol. So there Lina was, standing behind the counter of her father’s market stall while the man himself took a rest in a chair towards the back. It was still the morning rush, so Lina was up on her feet, speaking to customers, negotiating trades, and avoiding people she didn’t like.

It was boring and tedious work. Sometimes, her father would also have her repairing and polishing tools and trinkets on top of interacting with customers.

Lina’s head was elsewhere though. She was quite busy daydreaming about Cassian, naturally.

Over the past couple of nights, she’d visited him three more times, each time being more magical and wonderful than the last. Each visit, they would end up talking and laughing for hours into the night, until the fire burned its very last embers. He would read his favorite books aloud to her, teaching her the definitions of words she didn’t recognize. Lina could listen to his voice for all eternity and never tire of hearing it, his deep and smooth tone, pronouncing each word with such elegant flair. In spending time with the prince, Lina felt as though she had so much to learn. There was so much she didn’t know, so much beyond her little world that she couldn’t even begin to understand, and it was exhilarating. She wanted Cassian to teach her everything there was to know.

“I hope Idris will stay long enough to have dinner as a family,” Mr. Brook said, taking Lina out of her thoughts.

She felt the complete opposite.

She hoped Idris would be gone by the time they made it home, but Lina knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. His send-off would be the big spectacle that it always was. And to think, that spectacle could’ve been for Lina as well, if only Idris hadn’t destroyed all her hopes and dreams. Maybe she would’ve been a watchman by now, with a spiffy uniform and all the respect and admiration one could desire. If only Idris hadn’t completely ruined any chance she’d had at even trying to apply. He had met with his first-in-command as soon as he got wind of her intention to apply, and he had written a letter, a list which detailed all the reasons Lina was a horrible candidate and why she should never be accepted. And of course, it worked.

Reckless, loud, irresponsible, impulsive, clumsy, silly, trouble submitting to authorities.

Lina knew why he did it, why he wrote those cruel words. She could see his opinion of her reflected in his eyes. At every family dinner, every time she passed him in the hallway, every time she opened her mouth to speak, she saw his face twist into a sneer. He wanted his commander to see her how he, himself, saw her, as a stupid, reckless, irresponsible, nasty little girl. That’s why he did it. Not even Eunice was spared his disgusted glances, her association with Lina was just as offensive to him.

It was an incredibly frustrating mystery, trying to figure out what went wrong in her relationship with Idris. What had she done to earn such a poor opinion from him? So much that he should wreck her prospects. Lina figured she’d never find out. He’d never want to be in the same room with her long enough to explain himself.

-

The day slowly wound to a close and before she knew it, the stall was closed, the goods packed up, and Lina’s stomach was screaming for food. As her and Mr. Brook walked down the cobbled lanes of The Belly, heavy bags on both of their backs, Lina imagined herself inhaling her dinner, maybe it was soup with garlic bread this time, or chicken, or marinated ham, or-

“Is that them on the front porch?” Her father unknowingly interrupted her daydreaming. Lina squinted, their home was in view, and on the steps in front stood Idris in his uniform, carrying his backpack. Mrs. Brook and Eunice also stood on the steps, and Eunice, noticing them, was waving.

Lina and Mr. Brook waved back.

“I was hoping we would eat first…” Lina said sadly, her stomach was begging for sustenance at this point.

“You guys almost missed him!” Mrs. Brook shouted as they made their way to the base of the steps.

Idris was standing at the midpoint between the top of the stairs where Mrs. Brook and Eunice were, and the bottom of the stairs where Mr. Brook and Lina were. He looked very disinterested in the ceremony of the goodbye, and he of course made sure to give Lina a very snide glance when he noticed her coming.

“Are you not going to have a meal before you go?” Mr. Brook asked his son.

“I’d rather not, I have to report to my commander in thirty minutes,” Idris replied blankly.

Mr. Brook nodded in disappointment as his wife ran down the steps to hug her son.

“It’s just so lovely to have you home!” she exclaimed wrapping her arms around Idris, her face welling up with emotion.

Lina had put down her heavy bag at this point and rolled her eyes. She just wanted Idris to leave so they could all go inside and eat. He unfortunately noticed her attitude and, shooting her a nasty glare, pulled away from his mother.

“Glad I’m leaving then?” He sneered.

“I’m hungry,” Lina replied impatiently.

“Would it kill you to wait two more minutes?”

“Oh, don’t you two start!” Mrs. Brook interjected, but it was too late. Lina ignored her.

“I might die of hunger in those two minutes.”

“Isn’t patience a virtue inherent to your sex?”

“Isn’t it time you spare me from your self-important reprimands?”

“I’m only making suggestions,” Idris glared menacingly at his sister, “after all, what kind of husband would put up with that kind of attitude?”

Lina’s face twitched. She felt her irritation rising. He always brought up marriage and future husbands to get on her nerves, and she hated the fact that it always worked.

“Why don’t you go back to fighting rats? Isn’t violence inherent to your sex?” she retorted.

“Violence? You mean bravery and courage, right? Something you wouldn’t know about.”

Lina laughed. “Don’t you dare talk to me about bravery and courage when the bravest thing you’ve ever done was ask to be discharged!”

She hit a nerve. Idris stalked up to his sister, looming over her with eyes blazing. It was true that Idris had asked to be discharged before, and even though Lina didn’t know the exact circumstances surrounding why, she knew it was a very sensitive subject for her brother, which was precisely why she brought it up. Maybe it was low, but Lina wasn’t willing to back down.

“You really want to go there?” Idris said menacingly. He looked as though he was ready to strangle her.

“STOP!” Her parents and Eunice had sprung into action, grabbing both Lina and Idris to pull them away from each other.

With faces red and emotions flaring, Idris furiously adjusted his uniform, snatched his backpack up from the floor and marched away, out of sight.

There was silence for a while, nobody could quite process what had taken place. Mrs. Brook turned to Lina, tears already streaming from her eyes.

“Why did you have to be so hurtful?” She ran up the front steps and into the house sobbing.

Mr. Brook just sighed in disappointment, grabbed the bag Lina had put down, and made his way into the house as well.

“You really didn’t need to say that,” Eunice muttered, looking equally disappointed in her sister before following Mr. Brook into the house.

Lina, for once, was silent. She wasn’t hungry anymore.

-

A mixture of guilt, confusion, anger, and frustration all laid in a pit in Lina’s stomach.

As she lay under the covers in her bed that night, staring up at the ceiling in silence, all she could do was replay that scene of Idris’ furious face over and over again. Why was his potential discharge such a big deal? Lina’s regret over bringing it up grew, it was low, she shouldn’t have gone that far, but he kind of deserved it at that moment, and it’s not like she could apologize for it now, Idris was back on patrol, and Lina wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed away from home longer than he normally did.

It was then that Lina noticed how quiet the room was. Eunice was in bed too, but wasn’t snoring.

“Eunice,” Lina whispered.

There was a beat of silence.

“…What,” She replied.

“So you are awake…”

“Unfortunately…”

“Can I get in with you?”

“…Sure.”

Quickly, Lina got up from her own bed. Crossing the room towards her sister’s bed, she pulled back the covers and slid underneath next to Eunice. There, they remained together for a bit, quietly listening to the creaks and noises of their home.

“I’m sorry for today,” Lina whispered, snuggling into her sister’s side, “I didn’t mean to cause so much stress for everyone.”

“It’s alright,” Eunice replied soothingly, “It wasn’t your fault entirely. Idris was just as much to blame.”

“I didn’t really feel bad for him. It was more painful seeing Mama upset.”

Eunice nodded, “I felt the same.”

“It just drives me insane how I’m always blamed or made to feel guilty for standing up for myself. Idris can insult me, degrade me, and ruin everything for me, and nobody will say a word against him. But when I so much as say one thing to defend myself, all of a sudden, I’m the most evil person to ever exist!”

Lina’s voice shook slightly, her emotions flaring.

“It’s just not fair…”

“I know, it’s not,” Eunice pulled Lina in closer, “I’m always on your side, ok? Don't ever forget that."

“Thank you…” Lina’s voice came out muffled. It was then that she broke down. Just knowing that she always had her sister’s love, even if things were not in her favor, filled her with all kinds of emotions. As she cried in Eunice’s embrace, she knew she was safe, that she was loved.

What more could she ask for?

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

A bit of a short chapter, but that just means there's a beefy one coming up!

#g/t #g/t community #g/t writing #sfw g/t #g/t fluff #giant/tiny #the borrowers #g/t original story #oc: cassian #borrowers #oc: lina #oc: idris #oc: eunice

[szappan]

What languages do you speak aside from English and Hungarian?

Hi! I've been learning German in school for six years and I'm on a B1-B2-ish level, but each time someone prompts me to say something my brain and mouth freeze up and I want to melt into the floor so I wouldn't exactly call it speaking. I do understand it okay, if need be! if need ben't, ich verstehe nur bahnhof, which is the most important phrase i ever learned.

I was also learning french on duolingo and it was going swell so I'm hoping to get back into it! The only thing stopping me is me

#sometimes i speak no languages at all least of all hungarian #asks #anon #thank you so much for this question!!! i love you #rn in german we're learning about sport. kugelstoßen #german is like. i can tell you all about die gesunde ernährung but dont expect me to find my way around town #my mum's good at french so sometimes she speaks to me in french and i pepper in some well-timed ouis #i also read aloud from the little prince for her at which she laughs but it's a good process #oh yes and she also tried to teach me latin but then we went off schedule and never recovered which is sad

[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #grisha #Grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone netflix

[entishramblings]

The Restricted Section [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! sO I ended up getting like super into this one-shot and it got a little off track but I feel as if it still matches up to the request! Also I do lowkey mention some “first age lore” but I pulled it out of my ass.....just go with it tho it’s fanfiction lol

Request: Anon — I've been seeing your AMAZING writing pop up on my dash and I love it!!!! If you're not too busy (and no pressure at all to write this in a timely manner), could you possibly write a short one-shot of Legolas' reaction to unexpectedly finding someone sketching him? Bonus points if the sketch is really good, and EXTRA bonus points (and digital cookies!!) if he secretly has a crush on the person sketching? Again, no pressure!!!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Greenwood’s library archivist. Legolas comes to do some research. goddamn why does this summary sound dirty??

Word Count: 2,840

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

Being Greenwood’s Archivist for the thousands upon thousands of treasured papers, scrolls, and books did have its perks one could say. (Y/N) not only wanted to be immersed in the secrets and stories of the world, but she was required to. She spent much of her time reading and cataloguing—not that she minded considering the knowledge she had obtained was vast and fruitful. Furthermore, she was basically permitted to do whatever she wished given that she only had to give reports to the King every couple of weeks. This left her with much appreciated free time.

Currently, the Greenwood castle was hushed as every elf was sound asleep, basking in their own dreams and memories, well...almost every elf. (Y/N) was wide awake. Her favorite time of the solar cycle was the silent hours of the night; because, here in the darkness of the sky, there was nothing more enticing than being alone in the vast silence of written secrets—especially when no one was around to catch you sneaking a peek in the restricted section.

(Y/N)’s preferred spot in the library was a very specific little nook for a handful of reasons. First of all, it was lined with tall shelves filled with different volumes and ledgers that created a private and secluded feeling. Furthermore, the lucky position of these paper-filled towers allowed for a clear eye-line to the main area of the library—an eye-line that could not be seen from outside the special little cranny. This, of course, was perfect for handling prohibited materials. Lastly, she was adjacent to a large stone fireplace where light and warmth were compelled to pour into her form. (Y/N) appreciated this, especially during the coldness of the winter months.

So here Greenwood’s Archivist sat, curled into a dark cushioned armchair within a shrouded crevice of the Library, sketching the forbidden monsters from first age lore.

The faint scrapping sound of charcoal against yellowing paper faded into the crackling of the flames while (Y/N) skillfully manipulated the material in her small, leather-bound, sketchbook. Every so often, she would pause to take a sip from the tea cup that she placed on one of bookshelves. The flavor of the warm liquid melded into the woman’s mouth; the taste of ginger and cloves folded around her tongue and initiated a warm sensation throughout her body. She really did feel at peace in this moment, cloaked in the secrets of the night.

However, that tranquility was reshaped into alarm at the sound of the large wooden doors creaking open. (Y/N) stopped her sketching and cautiously peeked through the shelves. Her lips parted and her brows furrowed when her eyes rested on the intruder.

What could the Prince of Greenwood want from the library at this hour?

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when yet another thought crossed her mind.

What would the Prince of Greenwood do if he saw a book—a restricted book—in her grasp?

Quietly, the archivist tucked the dusty green volume under the armchair and turned her sketchbook to an unmarked page. But, before she started sketching something new, her curiousness compelled her to watch the Prince.

(Y/N) smiled softly as Legolas’s calloused hand gently stroked the leather spins of every book as he strolled through the aisles. His brilliant blue eyes wandered across each title, clearly searching for something. His dark brows furrowed when he reached the end of the shelf, apparently not finding what he had been looking for. The Prince continued weaving his way between stacks of books until he was directly on the other side of (Y/N)’s shelf.

The young woman held her breath as her heart pounded.

What if he caught her in here?

She inwardly chided herself. Why would she—the archivist—get in trouble for being in the library? This was her domain, her job. Her anxieties were completely unrational.

(Y/N)’s frantic thoughts froze when one of the books began to slide away.

Still unaware of her presence, Legolas opened it to read the text on the first page. It seemed that he was content with his selection for he turned on his heal. The Prince made his was to the center of the library and sat down at one of the tables that was lit with candlelight.

After a couple moments, (Y/N) quietly stood up and walked towards the shelf. She laid her hand on the now spacious gap. The young woman frowned. He had taken a book on forestry—the sickness index. Was there something going on within the trees of her home?

Deciding to push her concerns aside, for now that is, she snuggled back into the comfort of the armchair.

From her position she was able to see the elvish prince clearly.

A little grin stretched across (Y/N)’s lips. She picked up her charcoal once more and began to sketch the outline of his form. As time went on, she shaded in the curves of his jaw, the bend of his lip, and the scowl upon his brow. It was coming together quite nicely.

She did not know how much time had past, but when she looked up from her sketch Legolas was gone. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion.

She was just looking at him.

He wouldn’t leave a burning candle and opened book unattended, would he?

The sound of paper-filled leather sliding from the shelf behind her made the archivist turn quickly. The person on the other side had sensed her movement and peaked through the hole where the book had previously rested.

“My apologies, Archivist (Y/N). I knew not that you were here.”

The young woman stuttered out a response, “Oh um, it is alright, My Prince. I....I...was just—

A smirk pulled at his pink lips when his gaze landed on her open sketchbook. “Is that me?” He questioned.

(Y/N) cheeks began to heat as she slammed the sketchbook closed, “No.”

He raised an eyebrow before walking around the tower of books that was between them.

When he entered the tiny nook he looked around at her set up—stacks of many books and ledgers piled high upon the floor, a thick blanket dangling off the armchair, and a hot cup of tea upon one of the shelves.

“I almost forgot about this space. It’s quite cozy with the fire, is it not?” He said.

Legolas made his was towards her and gently held out his hand. Nodding at the leather-bound sketchbook, he spoke, “May I?”

She couldn’t exactly refuse the Prince, now could she?

Wordlessly she passed it to him.

Ever so carefully he began to flip through the pages—birds, horses, forestry, flowers, creeks, pillars, stones, and, of course, people. There were a handful of sketches of elves that he recognized as maids and servants—likely her friends, he guessed. Additionally, there was a fair amount of pictures of the guards and even one of his father. The coroner of his lip pulled upwards again when he found one of himself, and another, and another. His expression then changed to surprised amusement at what looked to be a demon. Strange. He shot her a playful look and by her reaction he was sure she knew which sketch he was looking at. Legolas continued studying the charcoal art pieces until he turned to last marked page—to the one she had just completed: him.

“These are quite good, (Y/N). Have you ever considered abandoning the library for art?”

“Well, no. It is just a hobby of mine, I suppose.”

He nodded and handed the sketchbook back to her, “And the demon?”

“Ahh yes....um, well....”

She glanced down at the floor as she stuttered. Anxiety flashed across her eyes at the sight of the corner of the green volume peaking out. She kicked it under the chair quickly.

However, her action did not escape the observation of the Prince. Yet again, he raised a brow.

Legolas knelt down and tugged the book out. He read the title aloud, “First Age Index, Volume IV. Morgoth’s Experimentation.” A deep chuckle escaped Legolas’s chest, which of course was not the reaction (Y/N) had been expecting. The Prince spoke again, clearly entertained by the situation. “Let me guess—from the restricted section.”

“Of course not!”

Legolas stifled a laugh. “(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” She responded while avoiding his gaze.

“You are a terrible liar.”

The young woman looked up at him, “I—I am not!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. However, the playful expression faltered and his face instantly melted into what looked to be a sudden realization.

He swiftly stood up and tapped his palm against the cover of the book. “Does the restricted section have lore on earth sickness and forest disease from the first and second age?”

“I—erm...I haven’t been in the restricted section, My Lord,” she stammered.

He shook his head, “Again, (Y/N). You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed in defeat before speaking reluctantly, “It does.”

“Take me to it.”

The Archivist led him towards the gated shadow-ridden corridor and stood still.

Legolas offered her a sideways glance.

She sighed; now her days of browsing the forbidden knowledge were over.

(Y/N) pressed her finger against the lock and slammed a closed fist on the latch. It instantly creaked open.

The Prince’s eyes shown with amusement but she just shrugged and stepped through the gate.

He was enjoying this way too much.

They walked into the circular room; light poured in from a high window, showing the dust dancing through the stale air. (Y/N) led him straight to the section he had requested. She then began to pull out books, ledgers, and scrolls; placing them in Legolas’s arms until they were piled high to his chin.

The two then exited the restricted section and (Y/N) locked up the gate once more.

Legolas then followed the young elven woman towards the table he had previous occupied. The Prince carefully set the overflowing stack of knowledge down. He opened one of the books and skimmed the beginning index before speaking.

“Ada (father) did not believe me when I said something has been stirring in our forest. My senses pick up a darkness nearing for the trees have gone silent and the animals run west. Yet, the insects increase—specifically the spiders.”

She frowned.

Interesting. Interesting indeed.

The archivist rocked on her heals for a moment, contemplating asking the question that persisted in her mind. “So, does this mean I am not in trouble for reading the restricted section?”

Legolas shrugged, “What Ada (father) doesn’t know, can’t make him angry. Besides, this is too important.”

(Y/N) hopped up onto the table and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She grabbed a book from the pile and began reading.

What was making their forest sick?

.....

Legolas and many members of the guard had just arrived back in Greenwood after patrolling the east end of the forest. The Prince sat in the armory ridding himself of the countless weapons that clung to his body. He let his thoughts wander as he did so.

Two months had past since he had come across (Y/N) sketching in the library; and ever since, the two elves had met every night—well every night that Legolas was not on patrol. They had moved from researching at the table to scrutinizing in the comfort of (Y/N)’s favorite crevice of the library. The archivist sat in her leather armchair while the prince rested on the floor, leaning against a bookcase. The space was quite cramped, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it allowed him to study (Y/N) as she sketched and read. He would be lying if he said his heart did not yearn for her.

Additionally, the formality of titles between them was left behind as the two had become quite close. Legolas appreciated this; often many treated him differently because of his royalty, but not (Y/N). Furthermore, no longer was she concerned about the repercussions of reading material from the restricted section. Besides, if Thranduil somehow found out and was to punish her for it, he would have to punish his son.

“Prince Legolas!”

He looked up as his name was called. Legolas offered a warm smile to the guard who spoke. “Meludir, I trust patrol went well for you?”

The dark hair ellon nodded in response. “Are you going to the library after this?”

Legolas shrugged, “Perhaps.”

A light laugh fell from Meludir’s lips, “To see (Y/N)?”

The Prince’s brows furrowed. “Well, she is helping me with some research.”

Meludir smirked, “Research hmm? You are aware there has been some whispers flying around?”

Legolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Well, you spend much time with her. Enough to end up in her sketchbook—on multiple pages.”

The blonde elf bit back a smile. Of course Legolas was aware that during their research (Y/N) would put down the scrolls and ledgers and pick up charcoal and paper; and, quite frankly, he did not mind. But he was unaware of how Meludir knew if this so he opted to ask. “How do you know of her sketches?”

Meludir grinned, “I may have stumbled across it in the library very late one night.” He paused, “You can imagine my surprise when I went to find light reading material but came across the Prince and the Archivist throwing books at each other’s heads.”

Legolas looked down at his dirt ridden boots to hide the smiled that surfaced from that memory.

This of course did not escape Meludir’s gaze. The young ellon chuckled at his superior’s behavior and clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you head over there then.”

.....

The sun had set and the moon had taken its place. Legolas strutted into the library after he had washed up and changed into fresh clothes. He quickly made his way to the little nook filled with all their research.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned when he came to an empty space.

“Over here!”

He whipped his head around to see the young archivist thirty feet up a ladder; she was reaching for a book that rested near the rafters.

She called out to him again, “Come catch this!”

He walked towards her until he stood at the foot of the ladder. (Y/N) then let the heavy book fall through the still air; it landed perfectly in the prince’s waiting hands.

The archivist grasped onto two more books before gracefully climbing down. “Come on then, we must get reading. The sun won’t stop rising for us.”

She plopped down in her armchair and Legolas sat in his usual spot across from her. After a couple hours of endless reading and research, (Y/N) gasped.

“Legolas! I have found it!”

His head shot up, “What?”

“The—the sickness...the darkness. What you have described to me is exactly what a scribe wrote in an old Quenya dialect: Telerin. I’ve been translating it.” She stated as she moved the position of one of the three books in her lap. “It says it right here. Before the rise of Sauron.....animals fleeing, insect population stirring, trees going silent—“ (Y/N) stood up in excitement. “I found it, Legolas! I found it!”

The Prince leapt to his feet. Full of emotion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her form up. He spun around quickly as little laughs left the woman’s lips.

Legolas set her down, but did not remove his arms from around her waist. “After all this time of researching....you—you did it!” He paused, “You are very brilliant, you know that (Y/N)?”

She shrugged, “Well, I don’t—“

He interrupted her, “You are, (Y/N). You are. You know this library as I know the woods. You were able to make connections between books and scrolls that I never would have seen. You were able to analyze data and translate languages with no trouble. You are incredibly intelligent....and I admire that.”

The young woman’s eyes drew to the floor and her cheeks heated.

“(Y/N)...” Legolas whispered while cupping her chin.

He lifted her face and the air seemed to still between them as their eyes locked.

“Legolas, I—“ She whispered.

He did not let her finish. He gently pressed his pink lips against hers and (Y/N) instantly responded. The earthy smell of dirt and trees filled the archivist’s nostrils as paper and fire filled the prince’s. It was almost hypnotic. As the two let their mouths dance against each other slowly, reality melted away. Legolas pulled her form closer and she obliged. (Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his loose blonde locks. The Prince let his hands wander down her back and across her hips, feeling every curve. The young woman could not help but feel a wave of warmth wash over her for she had craved this. The kiss was calm, gentle, and full of innocent love.

When the two reluctantly pulled away for air, (Y/N) rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you know what this means, Legolas?” She whispered.

“You heart craves mine as much as mine craves yours?” He responded quietly.

“Well yes, but no....I meant about the forest. The sickness—it’s darkness. Sauron’s darkness. He is returning.”

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you wanna be in the tag list lmk

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #legolas #Legolas x reader #legolas one shot #legolas one shots #legolas imagines #legolas drabble #Legolas fanfic #Legolas fanfiction #LOTR fanfiction #LOTR fanfic #elves #mirkwood #Greenwood #fanfiction #writers #vayawrites #Thranduil #morgoth #sauron #tolkien #Legolas x you #Legolas x (y/n)

[thomaslightwood]

“What if Paris was the first time we’d met?” || Thomastair University AU

I wrote this because 1) anxiety and 2) the idea of what would happen if Thomas and Alastair had met for the first time in Paris is killing my soul so here you go

•

Thomas closed his notebook with a sigh.

“I know you want to say it,” Thomas grounded.

Lucie looked at him with big innocent eyes. “Say what?”

Thomas rolled his eyes.

Lucie smiled at him and while they both stood up, she said with a grin, “Okay, I will say it. I told you not to drink last night. I told you.”

Thomas signed again. “Yeah, you did. In my defense, that guy was cute and I was nervous!”

“No excuses!”

“Mr. Lightwood.”

Thomas stopped on the exit and looked at the professor. “Yes, Mrs. Jahanshah?”

Sona Jahanshah handed him a list. “Your paper. I wished to give it to you yesterday but well.” You weren't here was left unsaid but they both knew what she meant.

Thomas felt ashamed. His Farsi class was his favorite and Mrs. Jahanshah was an awesome woman. Strict and rarely allowing compromises but amazing teacher. Thomas didn't want to let her down by missing her classes to get drunk. Especially on the second day of the new semester.

He hesitatingly took the paper and looked at it. A small smile appeared on his face.

“Thank you Mrs. Jahanshah,” he said. He hurried to Lucie who was waiting for him at the door.

“Well?” she raised an eyebrow.

Thomas grinned but only said, “Nothing.”

“Come on, let me see!”

“Nope.”

Lucie tried to grab it from him but she was too small compared to him. And in general. In the end she gave up but said this wasn't the end.

“One day I will read your work, Thomas Alexander Lightwood, remember my words.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said with a smile.

Together they left the university and went to the near coffee shop where they were supposed to meet with Lucie's friend, Cordelia.

Thomas was a little jealous how Lucie could find a soulmate so fast. It has never been so easy to Thomas. It will never be. Maybe he was just too awkward. Sometimes he felt like his insecurities were written all over his face.

Lucie's smile widened. “There she is. It seems her brother is also here.”

•

“I have work,” Alastair said.

“We all have,” Cordelia said.

“Okay, I have a lot of work.”

“Come on,” Cordelia arched an eyebrow. “You should take a rest from time to time. Or else your brain would explode.”

“Sure,” Alastair said sarcastically. “Tell me again, why am I here? To rest? By meeting people?”

“It's just Lucie! And one of her friends, Thomas, who is a really adorable guy. It would be fine!”

Alastair wasn't convinced but didn't say anything. Cordelia was determined to make him talk with people for some reason.

“Oh, I see Lucie. She's right there.”

Alastair followed his sister's look. He spotted her friend, Lucie Herondale, a small but lively girl. They have spoken a few times but Alastair didn't really know anything about her except the things Cordelia told him.

Next to Lucie was a tall, broad-shouldered guy with a shy smile that was laughing at something Lucie said.

Alastair felt like someone kicked him in the stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You didn't tell me your friend is so cute.”

Cordelia blinked at him and smiled playfully. “I didn't know he is your type.”

“He is now,” Alastair stated.

Cordelia couldn't help but grin.

“Fuck,” Alastair said again looking at Thomas.

•

Thomas and Lucie sat on the table with Cordelia and Alastair. He was introduced to the Cordelia's brother and Thomas got worried he'd do something stupid and would make fool of himself in front of the beautiful guy next to him and-

Thomas forced himself not to space out too much but to listen to what the rest were talking about. He did his best to join the conversation but it wasn't easy to concentrate.

At some point Alastair said he's going to the bathroom and Cordelia went to ask for more coffee. Thomas breathed out and turned to Lucie.

“Why didn't you tell me your friend's brother is so cute? You know I don't know how to act around cute guys!”

“You are doing just fine,” Lucie said, trying to calm him down.

“Well, I was drowning in anxiety. But... I think it was sort of... the normal anxiety?”

“You mean...”

At this moment Cordelia returned to the table and Lucie didn't finish her sentence. Thomas was grateful. He was diagnosed with social anxiety and didn't feel comfortable talking about it in front of strangers. Only a few close to him people knew and Thomas did not want too many people to find out about it. It made him, well, anxious.

When Alastair got back he said he should hurry up for his next lecture and said goodbye. Thomas was a little disappointed.

Cordelia, Lucie and he had almost an hour until their next class so they remained in the cafe. Thomas wanted to know more about Alastair Carstairs but he thought asking Cordelia may look creepy and out of place. He may ask Lucie to do it. Or he himself to ask. Some day.

•

Thomas was nervous. It was his first time in a new class where he didn't know anyone (he didn't know many people in the university as a whole but still).

As he entered the room he tried to calm down. Took a deep breath. His anxiety was still there but after Thomas took his seat he felt like he wouldn't get an anxiety attack in front of the whole class and will survive this. Probably.

He prepared to take notes, took out a few pens (just in case) and tried to breath normally. He reminded himself no one was paying attention to him. There were a lot of people in the room, he was just another guy in it. It was going to be fine.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

Thomas turned to the person talking to him and blinked. Alastair Carstrais.

“Sure,” Thomas said after a second.

Alastair smiled a little and Thomas couldn't help it - he returned the smile.

“The room is just so full. I was worried there weren't any left seats.”

The room was indeed full. Thomas was happy he got here early so he could sit at a place he liked.

“Cordelia didn't mention you like history.”

“Cordelia is awesome but I'm not very close with her,” Thomas said. “And I'm a little bit of history buff,” he admitted.

“Enough history buff to take a class for it, it seems,” Alastair said with a small smile.

Thomas laughed. “Yes, apparently.”

The professor walked into the room and it got quiet.

Thomas listened with interest to the lecture, taking detailed notes. But he was also excited because of the person sitting next to him.

•

Thomas wasn't sure how much time had passed but he knew he was hungry.

“Hey,” Thomas turned to Alastair who had a little strange expression as he said this. “Wanna, like- I mean if you're not busy, to have lunch with me? Or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time?”

Thomas' stomach did a flip but it was a good kind of flip, nervous and excited.

“I would be happy to have lunch together.”

Alastair smiled. It was a real, warm smile. “Okay.”

They went out of the university and Alastair said he knew a good place in the area. Thomas followed, careful to remember the way to it. He may need to come here again, hopefully.

As they sat, menus appeared in front of them almost immediately. Thomas ordered tea, Alastair - coffee until they waited for the food.

They talked about the lecture. It was about the history of the Ancient Near East. Alastair was half Persian and Thomas was fascinated to hear a few curious history facts about the Persian culture from him.

“I admit,” Alastair said. “My love of the Persian stories and songs is influenced by my mother. Sometimes she says it's her duty as a teacher to tell us, Cordelia and I, as much as she could about our heritage. Which of course has nothing to do with her profession but we don't say anything," Alastair laughed a little.

“Your mother is a teacher?” Thomas said curiously.

“Yes, for a few years now. She's a professor here.”

Thomas' eyes widened. “Wait, your mother is Sona Jahanshah?”

“The same,” Alastair said before drinking from his coffee.

“Whoa,” Thomas said with a smile. “I should have thought about it earlier. You have the same eyes.”

Alastair's eyes sparkled at this. He looked amused. “Most people would say we share the same temper not eyes.”

“This too,” Thomas laughed.

The conversation went in different directions a few times. They found out they share a great love for music. That Alastair's favorite book is The Prince by Machiavelli. Thomas in returned said his is Rubaíyat́ of Omar Khayyaḿ. They promised to read each other's favorite books because they haven't read it before. Thomas found out Alastair can play a piano and sing. Thomas wanted to hear him.

“What made you choose to come to France?” Thomas asked at some point.

“It's mainly because me and Cordelia wanted to study here. Paris is one of the cities where we were the happiest. So we moved here.”

Thomas wanted to ask about his father but he knew from Lucie Cordelia and Alastair's father was a sensitive topic so Thomas decides to leave it alone.

“How about you? Are you a big fan of France?”

“Not exactly,” Thomas laughed nervously. “Actually, coming to France doesn't seem very wise. My father wanted me to go study in Spain or Wales. Which would be logical because I know Spanish and Welsh. My father has connections in Spain and Lucie's father is Welsh. I started to learn French only a year ago. But...” Thomas tried his best to explained it. When he was saying it out aloud it sounded like a stupid decision but it makes sense Thomas' head. “It's about the university. The history of this city. I admire it. Lucie and I talked about it and our parents let us study here only because they know we're together.”

The waiter came to serve them the food and Thomas paused. He even didn't remember ordering a second time.

“You probably think I'm silly," Thomas said, feeling stupid.

“No, no," Alastair shook his head. “Not at all. I think I understand.”

Thomas looked at his eyes. He believed him.

“Also, you speak Spanish, Welsh and learn Farsi and French? I'm impressed.”

Thomas smiled a little shyly at that. He didn't mind compliments but coming from Alastair felt different.

The time was passing and they barely noticed. They both missed their lectures but as much as it was unusual for Thomas he barely cared. He did not regret the time spent with Alastair.

They exchanged numbers and social media. Alastair promised to send him more book recommendations. Thomas kept smiling the whole day.

•

the tree: sorry luce i can't have lunch with you today

small bean: ooooh, and why is this, little john?

the tree: i'm just not hungry

small bean: yeah yeah and i'm cinderella

small bean: are you seeing someone? someone dark haired maybe?? 👀

Thomas blushed a little and put his phone back into the pocket without answering.

“Ready to go?”

“Yep,” Thomas followed Alastair through the exit and together left the university.

They sat in the same place as the last time. Even on the same table. Thomas liked that.

“Okay, I suggest not to miss our lecturers this time,” Alastair said.

“Agreed,” Thomas said, laughing. “I can't survive this class only on Lucie's notes.”

They talked about books. They both have read each other's favorite book now and had thoughts to share. Alastair passionately talked about one quatrains of Rubaíyat́ of Omar Khayyaḿ while Thomas was eating from his toast. Since he left London he has forgotten the pleasure of talking about books with someone who was as much investigated in it as Thomas.

Same as the last time the conversation went in different directions. They talked a little about themselves.

“I miss my friends and family,” Thomas admitted. “We were always together, very close to each other. It was weird at first when I came here, without them being around.”

“Tell me about them.”

With almost every other person Thomas would think they were trying to make small talk. Alastair though, Thomas knew, didn't speak things he doesn't mean.

So Thomas told him. He told him about his sisters but not much about Barbara who had passed away because he felt like this was too personal. About the Merry Thieves and a little bit about how they're families were friends.

In return Alastair told him about the cities he had traveled to and what he likes about them, which places were beautiful, the history of them. After his parents' divorce when Alastair was almost 18, he, Cordelia and Sona moved to Paris because the siblings wanted to study here.

They could talk for many more hours but an alarm sharply interrupted them. It was Alastair's phone. He shut it down.

“This is for me. My lecture starts after ten minutes.”

“Oh,” Thomas couldn't hide his disappointment. “Okay.”

“Hey, do you want... to meet tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Saturday?” Thomas said, confused. “We don't have classes.”

“I know,” a strange look appeared on Alastair's face. Thomas in shock realized it was nervousness. “Actually, I... I’m asking you to go on a date with me.”

Thomas' heart skipped a beat. It was impossible to stop the smile on his face.

“Okay.”

•

“You're nervous.”

“I am not,” Alastair said defensively. Cordelia arched an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

“Try not to freak out too much. He's just a guy.”

“A guy with a cute smile.”

“Yeah,” Cordelia laughed. “But you're cute too.”

Alastair frowned at her. “Don't you have homework?”

“I have,” she admitted. “But I also have a brother who has a date.”

Alastair sighed. “He is far from the first guy I have a date with.”

“But he's the first after you-know-who.”

Alastair shook his head. “His name is not a trigger. You can say it. And it doesn't matter. It was a long time ago.”

It wasn't too long ago and Alastair maybe wasn't too happy about his situation with Charles but Cordelia didn't need to know this.

Alastair out on his shoes and coat. The weather wasn't too chilly.

“Actually, I meant... Doesn't matter,” Cordelia said. “Just have fun, remember he is just a guy as nervous as you and don't break his heart because he's Lucie's friend and I like her.”

Alastair couldn't help it but smile. He kissed his sister's forehead and went out.

•

Thomas saw Alastair coming and tried not to look too anxious or look if his clothes were okay. 

And he tried his best not to stare at the gorgeous view Alastair was.

Alastair led them on the way to the place he had in mind. It was far from the center, in a small alley that had one beautiful fountain. As they entered the small restaurant Alastair said a few words to the staff member and she immediately led them to their table.

It wasn't what Thomas imagined. They went upstairs. This floor was definitely emptier than the first one - the tables were farther from one another, with only a couple of people on them.

Their table was on the balcony. Thomas' breath stopped when he saw the view. He barely noticed as they sat and the waiter put menus in front of them.

Paris was beautiful during the night. The city of lights. The Eiffel Tower stood gold and sparkling.

“It's beautiful,” Thomas said and turned to Alastair. He caught him staring at Thomas with a smile on his lips. 

“It really is,” Alastair said and also looked at the view before opening his menu. “I got lucky to reserve a table here. Part of which was that my mother and the owner are good friends,” Alastair laughed.

Thomas smiled and also opened his menu. “So. What do you recommend?”

Alastair carefully scanned the page he was on. “The toast is awesome. And the desserts are unique. Here is the best tiramisu in Paris.”

“You really like coffee, don't you?” Thomas said with a smile.

“Yes,” Alastair said. “I admit, I do love coffee a hella lot.”

Soon the waiter came to take their orders. After he left, Thomas said, “I'm curious about something. How did you come out? Wait, are you out to your family? Is this a sensitive topic? Oh god, I'm so-”

“It's okay,” Alastair laughed. “Do you always ask every guy such questions on the first date?” he teased.

Thomas blushed a little. “Well. Sometimes,” he cleared throat. “Anyway! Answer my question. Or don't if you don't want to.”

“I'll answer,” Alastair said, trying to hide a smile.“I came out to Cordelia first, a few years ago. Then she convinced me that coming out to Mâmân wouldn't be a disaster. And she was right. It was difficult at first. But it's mostly fine right now.”

The waiter came with their drinks - ginger beer for Thomas and black decaffeinated coffee for Alastair. 

“How about you?” Alastair asked after they were alone again. “Are you out?”

“I am kind of out to my family and friends too, yes.”

“Kind of?” Alastair arched the eyebrow.

“It's a funny story actually,” Thomas said. “At first, one of my cousins, Anna, came out as non-binary lesbian. Not long after this Matthew, one of my best friends, came out as bi. And you see, in some way they cleared the path for me. When I came out no one was even surprised. I think they kind of expected everyone to come out as gay at some point,” Thomas laughed.

He didn't mention how sickly anxious he was to come out because he was worried his parents would react bad. Or how he worried his friends and sisters won't understand. Or the irrational, freezing fear to let even one person know something so personal about him. 

They talked more about London. Alastair said he was there only once but would like to visit again. They joked that Lucie would drag Cordelia there for the first holiday that appears.

At some point they started to talk about Paris. Which museums they have visited so far. Alastair was scandalized Thomas hasn't visited the Louvre yet. They agreed they should go to one museum together some day.

It was a beautiful night, warm, with a nice breeze. They talked for long, so long they were the only ones left in the restaurant. In another time, in another life the same was happening. They were both different people, with different pasts and so different memories, unsaid words and broken hearts. But as the city of light was watching over them tonight they had this sweet memory, echoing through the centuries.

#thomastair #thomas lighwood #alastair carstairs #tlh #tsc #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #tsc fanfiction #university au #feel good fic #sav's writing #paris #tsccreatenet #my post

[reikoackerman]

Tea Party with Papa

Characters: Levi x Rei (me) feat. Ackerman Juniors

Genre: Modern!au

Warnings: SFW, fluff. A little sad somewhere, but still fluffy. Takes place in present timeline after the events of Happy Birthday Levi. The Ackerman Princess #1 is five and a half years old, the Ackerman Princes are 18 months old. Ackerman Princess #2 is uhh, still 16 weeks (as of 06/02/2022) in the making.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Yay happy Self-Ship Sunday!!! All thanks to the dad!Levi art @mrscommandersmith drew for me for her 600 follower event, I have this compulsion to WRITE OUT THE HECKING TEA PARTY OUR BABY GIRL HAS WITH LEVI AFTER SHE MAKES LEVI PRETTY AND READY. Tagging @hashaneeee because you asked for it too <3

Also yes I like to call my daughter by her Chinese name hehe. My half-French baby needs to be reminded that she's also half-Chinese.

It was around 7:45 pm when I heard the rattling sound of keys by the main door, and the excited thump thump thump of footsteps that followed. I felt the thump thump thump of my heart too, and I quickly cleaned my hands and headed outside.

"Welcome home, Papa!" Renée stood by the door, greeting the man of the house who just returned home. She beamed at him, jumping up and down liked an excited little puppy. He quickly patted her head.

"I'm home," Levi called out after removing his shoes, looking at me expectantly with a smile.

"Welcome back, amour." I took Levi's bag as our lips met in a brief kiss. Renée was hugging onto Levi's leg like a koala bear hugging a tree.

"Do you want to take a shower first?" I asked Levi as he walked to the dining table, rolling up the sleeves of his light blue button shirt.

"It's fine, I'll eat first. I'm starving. Besides," Levi carried a clingy Renée and placed her in his lap. "this little bear doesn't want me to leave." Renée giggled as Levi started bouncing her up and down in his lap and tickling her, laughing and screaming for her papa to stop. I shook my head and laughed as I brought out Levi's dinner. Tonight's dinner was honey baked salmon. Levi would usually buy dinner back home after work, but since it was my off day, I decided to cook instead.

"Jia Ling, let Papa eat his dinner. Go read your books first, or play with didi¹." Renée sulked as I carried her off Levi's lap, watching her pick out some books before going to our room. Moments later, Levi and I heard Renée reading aloud to Pierre and Léon.

"You must be tired." Levi stroked my cheek and pressed a kiss to my forehead, placing his palm on my belly.

"Nah, I'm fine. Didn't really feel sick today too." I assured Levi, my fingers caressing his. "You better eat before it turns cold. Renée's waiting to spend time with you too." I chuckled, taking a bite of salmon from my plate.

Levi and I chatted over dinner, catching up on our day. About an hour later, I brought the plates to the kitchen while Renée came out of our room with a little pink bag in her hand.

"Papa, are you done?" Renée asked, pointing to the bag in her hand. Levi carried her onto his lap and gently combed her hair.

"Yes, ma chérie."

Renée giggled and started digging through the bag for a purple elastic band, tying up Levi's fringe. Once she was done, she took out a white container and opened it, dabbing Levi's cheeks with the compact powder (which was actually mine).

"Close your eyes, Papa." Renée frowned as she started pressing the sponge on Levi's eyelid. As soon as he felt she was done, Levi sneakily lifted an eyelid to take a peep at what Renée was doing.

"Papa, don't move!" Renée complained in fluent Mandarin, frowning when Levi kept fidgeting while she was dapping his face with the compact powder. She stuck her hands on her hips and pursed her lips.

"Tch," Levi let out a small laughter. "You look just like your Mama when she's angry with me." Listening obediently to Renée, Levi kept his eyes closed when Renée was still dapping his face. Once she was done, she took out a brush and a container of blusher.

"Smile, Papa!" Renée cheerfully spoke up.

"Hmm? Why do I have to smile?"

"Because Mama smiles when she puts this red powder on," Renée looked at Levi innocently with her wide grey eyes. "And Mama looks nice when she smiles." Levi let out a chuckle and gave her a smile. Renée excitedly dabbed the brush and very lightly gave Levi's cheeks a pretty red flush.

"Are we done yet, princess?"

"No, Papa, you still need to put on lipstick." Renée grumbled again before looking through the bag, deciding on a light pink glossy lipstick.

"Papa, Papa! Make your lips like this!" Renée tapped Levi's arm, making him look at her puckering her lips.

"You little monkey², who did you learn this from? Hmm?" Levi had a slight frown when Renée puckered her lips towards him.

"Mama! She always does this when she puts something on her lips!" Renée replied truthfully. "Oh, Papa, you and Mama do this too before you two kiss kiss." Levi felt his face heat up and he sniggered, doing what he was told and keeping his eyes closed while Renée dolled him up.

"Mama! Princess Papa and I are ready for the tea party!" Renée called out to me once she was satisfied with her own creation. I took out a tray with two cups of oolong tea for Levi and I, and a cup of warm chocolate milk for Renée.

"Mhmm, Papa looks gorgeous, doesn't he?" I laughed as I saw the both of them. Levi's face looked exceptionally tan because Renée dabbed too much powder on him; his face and his neck were two different tones. Levi's lips were also shiny and glossy and looked extra kissable. I took out a pink chiffon bow and tied Renée's hair into a high ponytail.

"Nice lips." I teased Levi before taking a seat, giving him his cup. Renée happily took her chocolate milk and beamed at us.

"Why am I the only one with makeup?" Levi looked at the both of us bewildered.

"Mama is pretty, but not you, Papa! You look pretty now." Renée giggled before drinking from her cup.

"Papa, why do you hold your cup like that?" Renée looked at Levi, and looked at the way she held her cup.

"Because when Papa was young, Papa was drinking tea by holding the handle of the teacup and it broke. So from then on, Papa started holding teacups by the rim." Levi patiently told her, taking a sip of oolong tea.

"Then Mama, why do you hold your teacup the same way as Papa? Did your teacup break too?"

"Mama copied Papa because Mama thinks he's cool." My eyes met Levi's and he gave me a small smile, stroking my cheek with his other hand.

"Then should I copy Papa too? I want to be cool like Papa!" Renée then placed her cup on the table and started imitating Levi. Her tiny fingers barely covered the rim of the cup. She looked a little disappointed that she couldn't lift up her teacup.

"Ma chérie, I'll teach you how to hold the teacup like me when you're older, okay?" Levi held on to Renée’s little hand and tried to cheer her up. Renée gave a small nod, but she still looked a little sad. Levi gave me a look and I knew what he wanted me to do.

I went to the kitchen and took out a few chocolate chip cookies, and Renée's eyes lit up immediately, happily eating one and offering Levi another. While I sipped on my tea, Renée and Levi went on and on, talking about anything and everything, from Renée's day at the kindergarten, to the newest book she started reading. All her attention was on her Papa, and she didn't even spare a glance towards me.

I stared at my empty saucer, feeling left out that I wasn't included in their conversation and I wasn't given a cookie. Hearing them talk in French wasn't making me feel any better too. However, seeing Levi and Renée so happy and spending some father-daughter time together, it did warm my heart, yet there was still a numbing feeling tugging at my heartstrings. It was hurtful, it was depressing. I hate how I was feeling. Yet, I grit my teeth put on a smile, and made sure my husband and daughter don't see me crying.

┍━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┑

"Is she asleep?" Levi looked at me when I entered our room. He was seating by the cots gazing at our twins. I gave Levi a small nod and went to the bathroom, wanting to take a quick shower and brush my teeth. I could feel Levi's eyes on me, yet he didn't say anything.

"Come here, mon cœur," Levi gestured as soon as I came out in my pyjamas. Levi guided me to the bed and started massaging my shoulders, down my back, and slowly descending to my calves. I would usually be a chatterbox, but tonight I was silent. Levi knew something was up, but he just kept quiet and watched me.

"You okay?" Levi spoke up after a while. I hesitated before answering.

"Mm."

"No you're not. Something made you upset?"

"Do you think I'm a lousy mother?" I spoke up after a long while, my voice choking up. I didn't want to say anything, but the thought in my head and the ache in my heart just refused to leave. Levi stopped whatever he was doing and looked at me sternly.

"No, of course not. Who the fuck told you that? My shitty uncle?"

"No, it's not Uncle Kenny. It's..."

"Hey. Mon cœur, listen to me. You're not lousy."

"Then why does Renée love you more than she loves me?" I stared at my fingers, tears spilling down my face. Damn you, hormones. Damn you, brain. Damn you, Reiko Ackerman. Stop it! Get a grip! Levi immediately pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back.

"Who told you that? Our daughter loves you and you know it." Levi whispered next to my ear, cradling my head gently.

"She didn't want to talk to me."

"... Rei, ba—"

"She didn't give me a cookie."

"I'll buy you your favourite cookies."

"That's not the point, Levi! I don't want cookies, I-I, I want—"

"Shhh, it's okay, baby, I know—" Levi hugged me tighter, rubbing my back and taking some tissue from the bedside table. I sobbed on Levi's shoulder, tears soaking his shirt.

"Don't ever think she loves you any less, okay?" Levi slowly released me from the hug, wiping my tears with his fingers and kissing my forehead. "Renée loves you and you know it. She called you 'pretty', didn't she? Renée said "Mama is pretty" and indirectly called me ugly." I remained quiet and stared at my fingers. Levi sighed before standing up.

"I feel the same with our boys sometimes you know," Levi lifted me in a bridal carry and walked to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet seat. "Pierre and Léon cry all the time when I'm feeding them, but they stop the moment I pass them to you." Wetting my face towel, Levi gently patted my face clean.

"I felt like they preferred your embrace more than mine, as though they love you more than they love me. However, you need to remember this, Rei." Levi hugged me and let me rest my head on his chest.

"Remember, they're all our children, our flesh and blood. They are products of our love for each other, and our children love us, just as we love them." Levi squatted down in front of me, placing his hands on my tiny bump again. Our little princess has been growing up so quickly, soon I can't even hide my baby bump anymore.

"Reiko Ackerman, listen to me. Don't ever think of yourself as a lousy mother, okay? You're doing an amazing job." Levi stood up and kissed me softly, hinting me to stand up to go back to bed. Prepping the pillows, Levi made me sit upright and pulled me close to him, an arm around my back and his free hand loosely draped across my belly. I still had a little pout and Levi seemed determined to get rid of it.

"You're my wife. Levi Ackerman's wife. You're stronger and greater than you think, stronger than anyone else. But if you're tired and weary, always remember that you can lean on me. Okay?" Levi cupped my cheek and softly pressed a kiss to my forehead, going down to kiss the tip of my nose, and finally landing on my lips.

"I'm your husband, I'm your king. Depend on me, hmm?" Levi leaned our foreheads together and kissed me with passion. I clutched his shirt collar tightly, feeling a flame lighting up in me. I returned the kiss with vigour as Levi's hand started slipping under my pyjamas top, softly running his fingers across my skin. The fire in me started burning stronger, the feeling in my heart started growing larger. I straddled Levi's thigh and kissed him harder. Damn you, hormones.

"During dinner earlier, when Renée was on my lap," Levi said in between kisses. "Remember how she kept laughing and asking me to stop?" I broke the kiss, panting against Levi as I nodded.

"All I can remember is a certain someone on my thigh bouncing and laughing," Levi held my waist and pulled me close, making sure he wasn't pressing on the baby bump. "However, instead of asking me to stop, she kept begging me to go faster." My face burned at that sentence, and I quickly pushed myself off Levi, utterly embarrassed at a certain memory. I bit my lip to hide my smile, playfully hitting Levi's thigh.

"See, now you're smiling," Levi caressed my hair and made me look at him. I laughed and took my phone, scrolling through my gallery.

"Oh don't talk to soon, baby, wait till you see this—" I showed Levi a picture I took and his smile faltered.

"W-when did y—"

"While you were having fun, obviously?" I giggled, showing my phone into Levi's face. "I'm going to send this photo to Mia and Erwin."

"Oh, no way you're going to do it, Mrs Ackerman."

"Try me, Mr Ackerman." I wiggled my eyebrows, preparing to send the photo to my bestest friend. Levi started tickling and wrestling the phone out of my hands while I suddenly squealed. Just then, we heard the twins let out a small cry. Levi and I stopped whatever we were doing and quickly checked on the twins, hoping we didn't wake them up. Luckily they were still fast asleep.

"You better not send that photo to Shitwin and Mia in the morning." Levi warned me as we snuggled close under the blankets, feeling Levi's arm around me and his chest flushed against my back. His hugs always made me feel so protected and loved, like he would shelter me from all harm and fear.

"What if I told you I already hit sent?" I giggled again, turning around to kiss Levi's jaw.

"Good night, amour," I smiled at him once more. "Thank you. And, I love you." I whispered as I snuggled into Levi's embrace, feeling his heart beating so strongly against his chest. Levi kissed my crown and pulled me even closer to him.

"Good night, mon cœur." Levi then drifted off to sleep with a slight smile on his face. Little did I know that the reason for his smile was because of the picture I took. It was a photo of Levi with his puckered lips and tied up fringe, while Renée was putting the shiny pink lipstick on him.

1: didi (弟弟) - Younger brother, or can also refer to a young boy.

2: Little monkey (馬騮仔 maa lau zai) - Cantonese, translates to little/young monkey. Used to describe a naughty child.

Okay there you go. Go ahead and judge me. I will gladly take my leave BYEEEEEEEE.

#levi x rei #reivi #self indulgent writing

[tchallasbabymama]

All For Us Chapter 9

Hey y’all, thanks for being patient with me on this one, but it’s finally done! Not to be the bearer of bad news or anything, but there’s only one chapter left (and maybe an epilogue) on our journey with Mira, Erik, and Cupcake. If you’re just here for Killmonger, I have a couple Erik oneshots heading y’all’s way in the next few weeks. Also, check out The Temple. 😉

As always, don’t forget to look at my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Like, comment, and reblog away! 🥰

CW: a little smut

Word Count: 6,481

Erik’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright through the sand that covered his body in his temporary grave. He was in the heart of the temple where the Black Panther ceremony took place, the City of the Dead. The lost prince pulled himself from the sand and brushed the clay-colored sediment from around his eyes as he climbed the stone staircase leading up into the garden of the heart-shaped herb. When he made it to the top, Erik took a deep breath before stepping into the garden. To his surprise, nothing caught on fire like in his previous dreams. His shoulders relaxed as he took another step into the garden, and another, and another until he was face to face with Bast’s statue. A smile took over his face as he knelt at her feet.

“Took you long enough, Jaguar.”

Erik lifted his head, and her celestial glow nearly blinded him as he laid his eyes on the panther goddess once more.

“Long enough for what?”

“For your senses to come back, obviously.” Bast circled him and laid down, licking her paw. “Pretty soon, you won’t have to be asleep to talk to me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Oh, I had nothing to do with it.”

Erik turned to face her and sat back on his heels.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I never took them away. You did.”

“I’m not following.”

“Your guilt blocked your senses, Erik,” she sighed. “You had been holding onto pieces of it, but you finally let it go.”

“I felt guilty for ruining our marriage,” Erik mused aloud.

“But you didn’t, so congratulations,” she said nonchalantly. “That’s not why you’re here, though.”

“Ok, what’s up?”

Bast chuckled at his informality.

“Last time we spoke, I said I would need you to do something for me. I’ve finally made up my mind as to what that is.”

Erik sat with bated breath as he waited for his assignment. For a moment, he was reminded of his military and mercenary days, except this time, he was being given a mission from a goddess. His goddess.

“As you know, Wakanda has never had a Golden Jaguar before. You are an anomaly, but that is a good thing.” She stood up and started walking, making him rush to his feet to follow after her.

“It is?”

“Yes. You know, the good thing about cycles is that with destruction comes rebirth…change. You’ve forced Wakanda to change, and you’ve forced me to think some things over. Truthfully, after the little stunt you almost pulled, I did think about removing your powers. I don’t need to preach about it, though, since you already know all about your wrongdoings, but I heard what you said about your people. We have neglected them, and for that, I have no words of apology that would adequately ease your pain. The Lost Tribe, as my people have come to call you, needs a champion. Wakanda already has theirs, but since you seem to rather enjoy toying with colonizers, I have an assignment for you.”

Erik’s ears were trained on Bast as he hung on every word she said. He walked next to her as they made their way through the catacombs towards the temple’s entrance.

“Before you came to Wakanda, you were involved with Klaue and his hunt for vibranium. Your vast knowledge of African and diasporic artifacts combined with your training makes a great equation for what I need you to do.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to act as the Golden Jaguar on the Lost Tribe’s behalf. I recognize that as just one person, you can only do so much, which is why I will talk to T’Challa about you heading his Wardog program. I would like for you to have an army of spies at your disposal to act instead of just watch and report as they have done in the past.”

“So basically what I wanted to do before but without the world domination?”

“Precisely,” Bast chuckled and stopped walking at the door to the temple.

“Ok,” Erik thought on it as a smile crept up his cheeks. “I’ll do it.”

“I knew you would. I think you’ll like my first assignment. Well, second. First, you need to stop avoiding the City of the Dead in your waking life. You need to go visit the garden.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Erik said, his nerves twisting in his gut at the thought of actually stepping back onto the sacred land.

“Now, my second assignment: artifact reclamation. Instead of searching for vibranium, which you might find, I want you to return items to their rightful owners.”

“So, stealing,” Erik deadpanned.

“Yes, but for a good cause. I will let you work out the details, but the point is to return the power to the people by building them back up, brick by brick. They were separated from their gods, so the Ancestors and the Orishas are working on bringing them back to us spiritually. They are still working on getting other spirits and pantheons on board...alas, my brother and sisters are choosing to take a more passive approach.” She sighed. “The Lost Tribe was taken from the land, so T’Challa has already spearheaded initiatives to build up other African countries that need his assistance and bring the Lost home to the continent. Now, I need you to bring our belongings home. Our thrones, our art, our history. Take it back. Bring it back to its rightful place.”

“I’m with it, but, um...how am I supposed to do this without getting caught? If shit just starts disappearing en masse, somebody’s gonna notice.”

“They won’t disappear. The colonizers won’t even know they’re gone.” Bast flicked her tail mischievously. “Your wife designs kimoyo beads, does she not?”

“Well, yeah-”

“And your cousins are scientific geniuses, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Then I’m sure that between all of your big beautiful brains, you can figure out a way to make replicas of the artifacts.”

“Why does that compliment feel like an insult?”

“I like you, Jaguar,” The goddess chuckled. “Now go enjoy your time with your wife.” She winked at Erik as she nudged him out into the brightness shining from outside the wide-open temple doors. Erik returned to consciousness, and he was shocked by the feeling of Mira’s mouth traveling up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, girl. This how you waking Big Daddy up now?”

She popped her head off his tip, and he groaned at the sight of a bridge of spit still connecting her to him.

“Good morning, baby.”

“Mmmm, good morning to you, too,” he grabbed her loose curls that she had forgotten to tie up the night before. The silk sheets kept her hair soft and bouncy as her hair spilled over his fist while it rested at the back of her head. He pulled her in for a kiss, and then she went right back to taking him down her throat. “You’re gonna make me nut all down that throat, Princess.”

Mira’s hand cupped and massaged his ballsack while she sucked on his bulbous head. Her tongue swirled around the tip, and her other hand traveled up and down his length, making his toes curl.

“Fuuuuck, you remember just what Big Daddy likes. Imma bust a fat ass nut, girl,” Erik groaned through gritted teeth. Mira giggled at her control over him and continued to work his dick. Her nose reached his pelvis as she took him down her throat, and he came with such force that she almost choked. Almost.

When she pulled off of him, she tongue-kissed his tip before sitting back on her haunches and wiping her mouth. “How’d you sleep?”

Erik let out a breathy laugh, “Like the dead.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t feel me moving. You were out cold.”

“That’s because I was talking to Bast.”

“What’d she say this time?”

Erik sat up against the headboard and motioned for her to come to him. Mira crawled up his body and straddled him, sliding down on his dick so that they were connected as deep as they could be. They had always been like this; whenever they needed to have a serious conversation, Erik would set her in his lap and have her take all of him. They both reveled in the connection they had in that moment, and even in their stillness, their united bodies responded to each other as the words fell from his lips.

“She wants me to be the Golden Jaguar officially,” he said as he kissed down from Mira’s ear to her shoulder.

“What does that mean?” Mira asked, barely above a whisper.

“She wants me to be a champion for us, the Lost Tribe. Wakandans have T, so I’ll be protecting the rest of us with the Wardogs.”

“How, though? That’s so many people.”

He came up from kissing between her breasts to look her in the eyes. “Well, remember how I told you about the museum heist to get the vibranium?”

Mira nodded.

“She wants me to steal artifacts from museums and shit and return them to where they were stolen from.”

“That sounds right up your alley,” Mira snarked, and he tickled her sides, making her pussy clench around him, and he let out a groan at the feeling. He grabbed her hips and moved them back and forth.

“It is. I can’t do anything until I visit the garden of the heart-shaped herb, though.”

“Why?” she moaned.

“I’ve been avoiding it,” he sighed.

Mira pulled him into a kiss and cycloned her hips as she wound on him. “Do you need to go alone, or do you want me to come with you?”

He connected their foreheads as he pushed his hips forward into her, and she called out his name.

“I need to go alone.”

Their hips ground into each other as the sexual energy inside them built up slowly and erupted through their bodies. Erik placed kisses all over Mira’s face and neck as she caught her breath from the intensity of her orgasm.

“How about I make breakfast?” Erik asked, and Mira simply nodded and kissed him. She moved to get up, but he held her down. “Nah, I didn’t say right now.”

After another round, the two of them separated from each other, if only because of the rumbling of their bellies. They showered together, and Erik couldn’t help himself from bending her over and eating her pussy and ass from the back. Pretty soon, he was balls deep inside her again, and when he came all over her cheeks, he about keeled over from the way the orgasm shook through his body.

“Aight, I need a break,” Erik said, and the two of them shared a laugh as they finished their shower without any more funny business.

“Can I have one of your t-shirts?” Mira asked as they slathered themselves in shea butter.

“You can have anything you want, Princess. MIT or Navy?”

“MIT please,” she cheesed at him.

“Coming right up.”

Erik left the room and returned with his maroon-colored MIT t-shirt. The same one she wore the first time she stayed over at his apartment back in the day. He knew it was her favorite and the look on her face when he handed it to her was priceless. She quickly shimmied into it while he slid on a pair of sweatpants that left little to the imagination.

The two of them relocated to the kitchen, and Mira toyed around with her latest kimoyo design on her tablet while Erik got to work on breakfast.

“That a new one?” he asked, nodding towards the design hovering over the counter.

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten it to work right, though,” she grumbled as she stared at it. “I want it to be able to apply cloaking tech to whatever it touches, but so far, I can only get the bead to disappear.”

Erik listened to her complain about her failed design for a little while, and when she was done, she turned off the tablet and hopped up on the counter.

“Anything I can do?” Mira asked

“Mhm,” he came over and stood between her legs, placing a sloppy kiss on her lips. “Just sit there looking fine as hell.”

“I’m serious,” she smiled.

“So am I,” he said incredulously with a hand over his heart, making her chuckle at his dramatics.

“Fine, I’ll be your muse.”

“And my guinea pig. Here, try this.”

Erik lifted the spoon to her lips so she could taste the yam hash he had been working on, and her eyes bugged out of her head.

“I forgot you turn into Top Chef after sex.”

“Gotta feed my woman,” he kissed her cheek and cracked a couple of eggs sunny-side up in the skillet.

Mira giggled, and an idea struck her. She reached back for her tablet again and pulled up her latest work in progress, a story about a decades-long whirlwind romance that she had gotten stuck on. All she needed was a little inspiration, and Erik ended up being just what she needed.

He watched his wife type away with a smile on his face. Erik loved watching her work; the look of determination on her face was always so endearing to him. She’d bite her lip and squint her eyes as she tried her best to focus on the task at hand. Erik always thought it was adorable.

The smell of fresh vegetables coming in contact with hot oil filled the air, and Mira’s mouth started to water. She looked up from her work to see what Erik was doing but got distracted by his body. She watched his sinewy muscles moving beneath his textured skin, and a chill went down her spine.

“What the fuck is that?” Erik sniffed the air, following the sweet scent that had just wafted from out of nowhere.

“What’s what?” Mira asked, swinging her legs back and forth.

He turned to face her, and his pupils blew wide as the smell hit him again.

“It’s you,” he turned off the burner and stalked over to her, standing between her legs again and placing his nose in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent and let out a growl.

“What is that?”

“My bodywash?”

“Nah, it’s you. What-” he cut himself off when it dawned on him. When he was king for a day, he only smelled fear from those around him. Fear smelled like decay, it smelled rotten, but this was the exact opposite. It was enticing, like the most beautiful forbidden garden, and Erik knew exactly what it was. Her arousal. He bit into her neck, making her moan out as he ground his hips into hers. The aroma grew, and Erik’s composure slipped away the more he inhaled it.

“E-erik, the food.”

He took a deep breath as he stood to his full height. “I can smell when you want me.”

“What?!”

“I wonder if it’s different for every person...shit, I wonder if I can smell other people. I hope not-”

“What are you saying? You can tell when I’m horny?”

“I guess so. I only smelled fear before, but it makes sense. I’m just caught off guard because it hit me out of nowhere, like last night.”

“What happened last night?”

“I could hear your heartbeat.”

Mira’s face lit up, “That’s good, though, right? It means your senses are coming back!”

“Yeah, I’m just surprised by that one. I wasn’t expecting all that,” he laughed.

“So...I smell good?”

“You don’t know how good, Princess,” he grumbled as he finished cooking. Mira crossed her legs, making him chuckle. “That’s not helping. It’s all over you.”

“Damn...what else can you do?”

“I need to test out my strength and speed, but my sight was different, too. Everything was brighter, more vibrant. And my brain moved faster...I don’t know how to explain it. Bast said my guilt was the blockage, so they’ll probably slowly come back over time. After they’re back, I’m supposed to start on my mission.”

“You still felt guilty?”

“I thought I broke us. I mean, I did, but I felt like it was unfixable, you know?”

Mira nodded, “Yeah, it felt like that sometimes.”

Erik pulled the dishes out of the cabinet and set them down next to her.

“Mira, I’m-”

“Erik, if you say you’re sorry one more time, so help me, Bast,” Mira said, making a dimpled smile appear on Erik’s face.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They fell into a comfortable silence while Erik plated the food, and when he handed Mira hers, he left a kiss on her cheek. She smiled and hopped down from the counter to sit at the table. When she sat down, she couldn’t help but stare at Erik as he walked over. Her man, her formerly violent man was really chosen by a goddess to protect Black people around the globe.

He noticed the look on her face and couldn’t quite place it. “What?”

“Nothing, just...look at you, doing the work of gods now.”

“I bet you never thought you’d say that about your mercenary husband,” Erik winked at her.

“Sure didn’t,” Mira laughed, “but it fits. You always had it in you. You know, I’m glad I came out here. I wouldn’t get to see this new side of you otherwise, and so far, I like it.”

--------

A couple of hours later, Erik found himself in front of the City of the Dead with his palms sweating and his breath shaking. He wasn’t sure why the temple unnerved him so much, but it did. Erik knew he had to do what Bast told him, though, and took a step forward. He climbed the stairs to the ornate stone doors and waited as they slowly opened for him. Erik was met with the sight of a surprisingly calm woman in purple robes. He recognized her as the woman he had choked out, the new head priestess.

“My prince,” she saluted him. “Welcome. I have been expecting you.”

“You have?”

“Of course. Come in.”

He hesitantly stepped forward again and entered the temple. A chill went down his spine as the doors shut behind them, and he looked around the space. He had only been there once before in his waking life, but this time it felt different. It probably had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t scared of him this time around.

“What’s your name?” he asked nervously.

“I am Zaya, my prince.”

“You don’t have to do the whole ‘my prince’ thing. Especially since I...you know.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I’m sorry about that. I should’ve never put my hands on you.”

“I have spoken to Bast about it, and I forgive you. Just don’t let it happen again,” she warned.

Erik put his hands up in defense, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Now, you are here to see the herb, no?” She started walking, and he followed behind her.

“How’d you know?”

“I spoke to Bast, remember?” She quipped with an eyebrow raised.

“Heh, yeah,” he chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. “I don’t know why I’m so anxious.”

“I assume that is a normal reaction when reckoning with your past.”

The two of them traveled deeper into the temple, and when they reached the door that led to the garden of the heart-shaped herb, he froze. Zaya looked back when she no longer heard his footsteps and smiled warmly, reaching out her hand to him. He took it, and she led him through the doors. Erik almost wanted to close his eyes, but he knew he had to face his past actions head-on.

He looked around, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw there were dozens of tiny glowing purple buds just begging to become full-grown flowers. He laughed in disbelief at what he was seeing. He had burnt the garden to ashes, but now here it was, thriving in spite of him.

“It took us a while to get them to grow again, but thankfully we were able to put out the fire before the roots were harmed,” Zaya spoke as he wandered through the garden in awe.

“And these...they still work?”

“The princess took a sample and tested it in her lab. According to her, this new batch might be a little different, but they should still work. Bast has given them her blessing, so that is enough for me.”

“So, I didn’t ruin Wakanda’s future like I thought...”

“No, just a bump in the road,” she smiled.

Just as he was about to respond, the strangest thing happened. His eyes were trained on one of the buds, and suddenly he could see every little vein in the leaves and the detail of the curled-up petals. The color became brighter and even more purple than most people could comprehend, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he smiled.

He could see again.

“Are you ok?” Zaya asked tentatively.

Erik cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just my senses are coming back, and...they’re beautiful.”

“And resilient.”

He laughed and wiped the tear from his face.

“How about I give you some time alone?”

“Thanks, Zaya, that’d be great.”

She bowed her head in deference and went back the way they came. When she was gone, Erik let out a sigh as he took in the sight before him.

“They really made it…”

“Of course, they did. Did you think I would leave my people defenseless?” Bast’s silky voice rang out through the temple, and he turned around to see her standing there in her mostly-human form. She was a statuesque and curvaceous woman with the head of a panther and locs that spilled over her ebony shoulders. Erik dropped to his knees as she walked towards him. “No need for all of that. Stand up, Jaguar.”

He laid eyes on her once more as he rose from the ground. Her glow was almost blinding, but his eyes adjusted quickly.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing you in person.”

“Get used to it. I like to pop in on my champions every now and again. Sometimes in dreams, sometimes in your thoughts, and sometimes in person. It all depends.”

“On what?”

“On you and what you need, or what I need from you.”

“Ok, so what do you need from me?”

Bast chuckled. “Truthfully, nothing this time. I just needed to see you face-to-face.”

“You don’t have an assignment for me?”

“Not yet. I know how much you enjoy the sanctuary, so I’ll let you stay there a little whille longer. Plus, you are just now mending your marriage and need time to spend with your wife and child before I call you away.”

“How much time?”

“Enough,” she winked.

“You’re so cryptic,” Erik chuckled.

“Yes, your cousin thinks so, too. However, I prefer ‘mysterious.’”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you long,” she sighed. “You have some party planning to do. They grow up fast, don’t they?”

“Especially when you miss a couple of years,” he murmured.

“Which is why I’m giving you at least a year before I call on you. Make good use of it, Erik.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing, Erik.”

“Yeah?”

“Try running back to the palace,” she winked again as she shimmered away, leaving him alone in the temple.

Erik tried to contain himself as he left the garden and ran into Zaya.

“Was your ‘alone’ time fruitful?” she asked knowingly.

All he could do was beam at her with his megawatt dimpled smile.

“Very.”

Erik said goodbye and ran back through the forest to the city, his heart beating out of his chest in excitement. His superhuman speed carried him back in no time as the wind whipped against his body. A smile was plastered on his face the whole time, even when he slowed down as he reached the outskirts of Birnin Zana. He hurried to the palace as inconspicuously as he could and happened to run into Mira just as she was leaving. When she saw the look on his face, she couldn’t help the grin that took over hers.

“So, how did- Erik!” She squealed as he picked her up and twirled her around with barely any effort.

“They’re back!”

“Your powers?”

“Well, yeah, but the heart shaped herb is coming back!” he peppered kisses all over her face and neck while she giggled. “You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you could be.”

“So I take it your vision came back, and you’re super strong again?”

“And fast. I ran here in like twenty minutes.”

“From the CIty of the Dead?!”

“Mhm,” he nodded as he set her back on the ground.

“Damn, baby, that’s...that’s amazing.”

“I need to test them out some more, so I’m gonna see if T has some time to spar. You going to the lab?”

“Shopping, actually. Okoye and Ayo took Imani so I could get some last-minute party stuff.”

“Need someone to carry your bags?”

“Oh, hell yeah. Especially since you got that jaguar strength again.”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

--------

Early that Saturday morning, as the sun crested over the trees, Mira and Erik stood on the tarmac watching as the Royal Talon descended from the sky. Mira was almost shaking with excitement as the doors opened and T’Challa stepped out, followed by some of her favorite people in the whole world.

“Titi!”

SJ ran down the ramp past the king and flung himself into his auntie’s arms. She held him tight and rocked him from side to side as Stef and Ana approached, with Daveed teetering between the two of them.

She looked up at them and gasped, “Oh my god, he can walk now? How long have I been gone?”

“Girl, too long,” Havana complained as she wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law.

Stefan was next to greet her, and his eyes stayed glued to Erik the whole time as he enveloped his sister in a bear hug, “We missed you, Sammy.”

“No, you miss my cooking,” she laughed as she crouched down to say hi to her littlest nephew.

“You remember Titi Mira?” Ana asked him, and he shook his head, hiding behind his dad’s leg.

“That’s ok, we can get to know each other while you’re here,” Mira smiled at him and stood back up.

“Who are you?” SJ asked when he finally noticed the man standing behind his aunt.

“SJ, this is your Uncle Erik. You might not remember him but-“

He thought about it for a moment before it dawned on him. “Do you still have all those bumps on you?”

Stefan tried to hold in his snickering, and Havana hit him in his chest.

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Heh, thanks, lil man.”

“So, brother in law…It’s good to see you,” Stef deadpanned. He was clearly not feeling Erik anymore.

“You, too, man,” Erik went to dap him up, and he stared at his hand in contempt.

“Stefan, behave,” Havana said with a roll of her eyes. “Hi Erik, how are you?”

“Much better since I’ve been here.”

“Good, good…”

T’Challa had been standing to the side while the family reunited but decided to intervene when things got awkward.

“Stefan, Havana, let us show you to your quarters.”

“Oooh, our ‘quarters,’” Ana sang excitedly. “Sounds so fancy.”

“It’s a palace, Ana. Of course it’s fancy,” Stef grumbled.

She cut her eyes at him. “Don’t act out in front of company.”

Mira chuckled. She hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing their playful bickering.

As they made their way through the place, Stef and Ana stared slack-jawed at their surroundings while SJ ran ahead of the group.

“You live here?” Ana asked.

“Mhm. It’s gorgeous, right?!” Mira bragged.

“That’s not even the word…”

T’Challa smirked as he listened to them compliment his home.

“So, where’s the birthday girl?” Stefan asked.

“She is with my mother and Ororo.”

“Ororo?” Stef stopped in his tracks. “Munroe?!”

“The one and only,” T’Challa grinned proudly.

“Holy shit…”

“Language,” Havana chided her husband as she covered SJ’s ears.

“What is it with these men and cursing around children?” Mira shook her head at her brother.

“Girl, I don’t know, but let’s get back to Storm. How’d y’all meet?”

“She’s his girlfriend,” Erik nodded towards his cousin.

“Dang, how’d you get her? I mean, I know you’re a king and all, but- Wait, are you a mutant, too?” Stef asked.

T’Challa and Mira made eye contact, and she nodded for him to continue. They were family and would most likely be seeing a lot of Wakanda, so they’d find out eventually.

“I am enhanced, yes.”

“Like Steve Rogers?” SJ chimed in excitedly from a few feet ahead.

“He wishes,” T’Challa complained under his breath as they stopped in front of the door across from Erik and Mira. Both of them chuckled at the king’s arrogance.

“So...you’re enhanced. Why, though?” Stef asked.

They entered the suite, and the interrogation was cut short when the Greenwoods saw how beautiful their temporary home was.

“Holy shit…” Ana mused as she covered SJ’s ears.

Mira gave them a quick tour while T’Challa and Erik hung back in the living area.

“So, you and Stefan-”

“He never liked me, and I made things worse by disappearing,” he shrugged.

T’Challa nodded as he changed into his suit.

“Oh, so you’re coming all the way out?”

“They will find out eventually, so I might as well get it over with.”

Erik nodded as Mira rounded the corner and saw T’Challa in his suit. She smirked and called SJ. He ran back into the room and froze when he saw Black Panther standing there next to his uncle. Ana was next to round the corner and looked at her son questioningly before she looked up and saw what he was staring at with his mouth open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said with a hand on her hip.

“About what?” Stef came next, and T’Challa’s mask disappeared into his necklace. “This place is insane.”

SJ couldn’t move. He was looking at his favorite hero in the entire world, right there in the place he’d call home for the next week. His mind could barely wrap around what he was seeing, and he couldn’t process his emotions. Tears started flowing down his face, and a sob wracked his body.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok, baby,” Ana crouched down and wiped his tears as Stef came over with Daveed on his hip.

“You’re not excited to see Black Panther?” He asked his eldest son.

SJ shook his head, and T’Challa deflated. Erik kept his snickering to himself, but Mira shot him a look anyway.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“He’s just in shock. It’ll wear off eventually,” Ana said as she brushed SJ’s locs out of his face.

————

It took way longer to wear off than they thought, and by the time they arrived at the party venue in the palace’s botanical gardens that afternoon, he still hadn’t said a word. T’Challa tried to speak to him a couple of times, but he shied away behind Mira or his parents. Eventually, Erik convinced him to give the kid some space and pulled the dejected king away to the other side of the garden. While the other kids and their parents arrived, SJ kept looking at T’Challa out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, he doesn’t bite...or scratch,” Mira leaned in and said to her nephew as she sat down next to him at the kid’s table. “In fact, he’s pretty cool once you get to know him.”

“Does Imani know?” he spoke up for the first time in hours, and Mira was happy to hear his voice again.

“Oh, yeah. He told us when we got here, but it’s a secret so she pinky promised not to tell. You know, I screamed when I saw him.”

“You did?!”

“Mhm. He really needs to learn how to ease people into it, huh?” she asked as she poked at his side, making him giggle. Stef and Ana watched from a few yards away and smiled with him while they kept a watchful eye on Daveed as he waddled around the flowers.

SJ nodded in response, and Mira kissed his temple before getting up and leaving him to ponder her words. Right when he had worked up the courage to speak to his hero, Erik announced that Imani was on her way with Ororo and Ramonda.

“I can’t wait to see my baby girl!” Ana squealed.

Mira excitedly grabbed Erik’s hand, and he kissed her knuckles, making Stef narrow his eyes as he and his family hid behind a mango tree.

Imani appeared with her auntie and future cousin, and T’Challa recorded as she squealed excitedly at seeing everybody. A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, Ade, and all her other friends from school greeted her with a loud “Happy birthday!” The newly five-year-old’s tunnel vision made her almost ignore her parents and other adults completely until Erik picked her up and gave her a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Happy birthday, Cupcake!”

“We have a surprise for you,” Mira sang.

“What is it?” Imani asked excitedly.

Erik set her down and turned her around as Mira motioned for her family to reveal themselves. SJ ran out from behind the tree and nearly tackled his cousin to the ground while her aunt, uncle, and baby cousin took a calmer approach.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Stef exclaimed while his eldest son continued to squeeze her tight. SJ let her go, and she ran into her uncle’s arms. Ana crouched down next to him, and Imani threw her arms around her neck.

“We’ve missed you so much!” Ana said as she fought tears.

“I missed you too. Wakanda is so cool! I can’t wait to show you everything,” Imani babbled.

“Did you know about Black Panther?” SJ asked, still a little nervous about meeting his hero.

Imani nodded, “I promised to keep it a secret, or I would’ve told you. It’s so cool, right?”

SJ nodded, and Imani dragged him off to meet her friends.

Erik couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried as he watched his little social butterfly play with her friends and cousin. It wasn’t until Mira came up and nudged him that he even realized he was staring.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “Just reliving some things.”

Mira looked at him curiously and he continued, “One of the few good memories I have from childhood that we talked about in therapy was my seventh birthday party. This kind of reminds me of that.”

Mira smiled as they stood there and watched Shuri, Ororo, and T’Challa play with the kids. The king regaled them with stories of his adventures, and Shuri let them ride on very slow hoverbikes while Ororo harnessed the wind to lift them up and let them fly a couple of feet off of the ground. The kids were having a ball, and their parents seemed to enjoy themselves as well. Okoye, M’Baku, and a couple other people gravitated towards each other and fell into conversation about being single parents. However, the rest of them spent most of their time ogling the royal family.

Eventually, it was time to eat and the parents were able to corral the kids into sitting down at the table. After stuffing their faces with an array of Imani’s favorite foods, Mira led the “happy birthday” song as she and Ayo carried out a huge Doc McStuffins birthday cake. Imani and SJ were the only kids who knew who she was, but everyone enjoyed the cake nonetheless. Erik couldn’t help the tear that almost came to his eye as he listened to his wife sing to their daughter, just like his mother had done to him. Loudly and slightly off key. Next, Shuri led the group in a Wakandan birthday song, and Imani blew out the huge number five candle in the center of the cake.

Mira kept stealing glances at Erik as he sliced it up and handed out pieces to everyone. He looked so happy. Even when one of the kids tripped and got icing all over his pants leg, he just kept on smiling.

Even Stef noticed the change in his brother-in-law’s demeanor and brought it up to Ana, “He smiles too much now. It’s weird.”

“It’s weird that he’s happy?”

“No, it’s just weird to see. He used to be so…”

“Surly and unapproachable.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Maybe you should get to know him?”

“Hmph,” he grunted in response. Ana decided to leave it alone for the time being and left his side to go talk to Erik.

“You think you can handle the sleepover?” she asked him.

“Thank Bast it’s not all of them.”

“It’s not?”

“Hell no, just her little crew,” he pointed to A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, and Ade. “I’m not taking care of all these kids.”

Ana laughed, “Understood.”

“So...your husband still doesn’t like me, huh?”

“Can you blame him?” Ana deadpanned.

“Nah, I’d be the same way in his shoes.”

“He’ll come around eventually...maybe,” she said as she placed a comforting hand on his arm before being pulled away by her son to watch the Black Panther and Storm show off their powers some more. SJ still couldn’t bring himself to speak to T’Challa, but it was a start.

As the party wound down and most of Imani’s classmates went home, the few that stuck around relocated inside to the Stevens’ suite in the palace. Even with a handful of screaming children in his home, Erik was on cloud nine. He loved to see a smile on his Cupcake’s face, and he wondered if he looked that happy when he was a kid. He concluded he probably did, and as the kids watched an animated movie, he and Mira curled up on the couch behind them. While the rugrats were distracted, he pulled her chin up to plant a kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” she smiled.

“I’ve just been thinking…”

“About what?”

“About making more good memories, you know? Some of the happiest times in my life were times just like this…and time spent with you.”

Mira looked down with a smile on her face and he brought it back up to look in her eyes.

“Marry me again.”

Her eyebrows damn near reached her hairline and a Grinch-like smile crept up her face as she nodded.

“I’d love to.” Next Chapter

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #erik killmonger x oc #black!oc #all for us

[bluebellhairpin]

The Kings Queen

King!Erwin Smith X Queen!Reader

A/N: It came to me in a daydream; I was MC; and certain British actor was he. And now it is no longer dream, but reality - if only because now in ink. - Nemo

Summary: In order to get his politicians off his back, Erwin needs an heir. The problem is, he isn’t even married yet. An arranged marriage is set, and his new queen is surprised at how compliant he is at waiting until she is ready. 

Warnings: Misogyny is a major one here guys. Arranged Marriage. Age gap (he’s in in forties, and mc is in the twenties area). Talk of pregnancy, and children. 

Listening to: ‘Once Upon a December’ from Anastasia (piano version) 

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist

A month ago it scared you, and scared you now. You stood next to a man you didn’t know, vowing your life to him, and all you could think about was how uncomfortable your corset was, how the headpiece dug in behind your ears, and how much you would rather be anywhere else.

Doing anything else.

Being with anyone else.

You wanted to be curled up on the armchair your grandfather made, your younger sisters at your feet next to the fire, as you read aloud to them from a book they probably didn’t understand. Your mother would be on a couch across from you, needlepoint in hand, and your brother and father would walk in. Your father would kiss your mother’s temple, and your brother would join your sisters on the floor, handing them two small, handcrafted, wooden figures. 

But instead you were here.

Standing under a chapel steeple, holding a bouquet that was too heavy, in a dress that had too much fabric. Almost half the city was crammed into the pews behind you, eyes hot and boring right into the back of your skull. Your almost-husband at your side. Your king at your side. 

You were getting married to Erwin Smith, and he was the monarch of the land you grew up in. 

You knew what was to follow. You knew why you were taken from your content life and thrust into the much higher end of high society. You were to give him a child tonight. An heir. And if it were born a girl, then you were to keep giving until it became a boy, and then some. 

You weren’t sure if it were that which scared you most, or that you never got the chance to have found a love of your own. You weren’t giving anything up aside from your family in marrying your king. There was no farm boy or baker's daughter that you were leaving behind nor betraying by speaking the vows that came from your mouth. 

No others lips had touched yours, and no one else’s fingers had grazed your wrist as Erwin’s did now. You marked off your shivers and incapability to meet his eyes as nerves, and nothing else. 

Before you were taken away by your uncle, your mother told you something. She told you to notice things. Notice the people. Give them what they want, graciously, so that they have want for nothing, and then want of their own to spare. 

So when you turned around to face those people, the crown which now held both allies and enemies, with your new husband’s arm wound around your waist, you noticed the people. You saw their smiles and cheers and decided to take your mothers words to heart. They were your people now, you were their queen. 

So you fought down the nerves, painted on your best smile, and sent greetings and waves to as many as you could as you made your way to your new home.

You had to admit, like most children, you did gaze upon the castle and it’s stone walls, wondering what life behind them was like. 

You had been once before, a garden party when you were younger and your brother was only a tot. It was one of the few parties the lesser and higher nobles alike were invited to. As equals. It was the first Erwin held after he was crowned king. He hadn’t had one like it since. 

You remember wandering off into the rose maze with your brother's hand in yours. Being only ten years old, your mind made the brush of thorns and baby-pink blooms into a lot more than what they really were. Whether it were to comfort yourself or to keep your brother calm, you made up a little game. 

Somewhere in the maze was a dragon; blood red scales and teeth as long and sharp as kitchen knives, a belly full of flames, and a smell for human flesh. If you stayed stagnant too long, it would find you around the next corner and swallow you up in one gnash of it’s jaws. 

But there was also a Prince in the maze; brave, gallant, and knight-like in every way possible. With hair golden like fresh cut hay, and eyes as clear and strong as ocean waves. He would wield a sword with a blade so sharp that one blow would send that dragon straight to its death.

Of course you didn’t tell such things to your brother. They were a bit intense for a four-year-old, so you dulled it down a number of notches. 

Imagine your surprise when you ran into someone, with hair the colour of fresh-cut hay, and eyes of the clear blue. He offered you his hand, and told you he’d keep you safe from that ‘dragon’ who was chasing you. 

And he did stay true to his word. You did get out of the maze safely, even if there was no dragon he was protecting you and your brother from. 

You remember that boy, a man really, and how he was handsome with his youthful features. Back then you didn’t know who he was. Namely that not only a few months ago he really was a prince, and that now he was the king hiding from most of his own party guests. 

That was around fifteen years ago, naturally things were a little different this time around. 

This time the party was inside, with tables stocked with foods - some you’d never even seen before - and candelabra’s. The room was already filled with guests, chattering and laughing, some even dancing with did bring a smile to your face. There was a group in the corner, playing instruments in all forms available. You had been changed before you joined your husband in a chair slightly smaller than his. Apparently being seen in your wedding dress at your wedding reception wasn’t proper, and that you needed to wear a more dulled-down version to eat. 

The corset was just as tight.

You’d barely said more than a few words to him, and now here you were. 

You excused yourself early from the celebrations, and no one batted an eyelid. ‘Preparing’ yourself might be proper. 

There was a lady, a bit older than yourself, named Nanaba. She helped you out of the stifling corset and the wads of white fabric. The putting on of the night slip and it’s robe was a lot nicer. It did not require a corset, as nice as it might make you look. She sent in for some tea, and once it arrived she excused herself. 

You wish you’d spoken to her more. She was nice. And it may have calmed your nerves a little. But you didn’t and you couldn’t will yourself to do anything except cling to the bedpost furthest from the door and wait. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long. 

The door opened, and in stepped your king. You found yourself sucking in a breath, nails grazing into the polished wood, and you cast your eyes down to put yourself in check before looking up at him. He looked over at you, smiling lightly and shed his outer layer of clothes before sitting down at one of the chairs near the fire Nanaba lit earlier. 

You wondered what he was waiting for. 

“Come sit, please.” he said, shuffling a little to set up two dainty tea cups. “This is your home too now, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.” 

You let out a quiet puff of air, playing with the new ring on your finger before making your way over to the chair opposite him. 

“You are quite timid, aren’t you?” he mused, offering you a steaming cup, “I supposed though anyone would be all things considered.” He sat back, and you finally took a moment to notice how much he had to be admired. ‘Handsome’ was barely a word to describe him, but those blue eyes, and his hair looked like it would be soft to touch. It made you think of that ‘prince’ from the game you made up in the rose maze outside. What luck would bring you both to meet a second time. 

He caught your eye again as he took a sip of his drink. 

“You can take comfort in knowing nothing will happen tonight, nor any night in the foreseeable future.” he said, voice hushed and quiet and indeed comforting. “We are barely acquaintances, let alone friends or lovers.” 

You couldn’t help but gape at him, letting your tea get colder. 

“B-but why? You need a child, I… I-I’m here to give you one -”

“- no, that what all those lords want. The child that they want me to have is going to be yours too. It’s not my body that will be their home for the first nine months of their life. I admit,” he said, setting his cup aside, “I will need an heir eventually, but it’s no matter or urgency to me.” 

“Not until I’m ready?”

“Not until you are ready.” he nodded. 

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty.” 

“Call me Erwin,” he said, taking to his knee as the glow of the fire reflected off his face, “At least when it is just us. Please?” 

You let out a laugh, light with nerves and giddy fluttering in your heart, and brought a hand up to your mouth as you turned to compose yourself. You turned back with a smile to see his face matching yours. 

Who knew you were seemingly fretting for nothing. 

“Only if you also call me by my name.”

It was a well-known fact to even the ‘commoners’ that there were not many men in the kings court who were good people. 

Within your first week of living in the palace you knew Erwin was one of them. 

Despite his often off and rough ways of getting to and around things, he was a good man. He did have a good heart. 

Another was a much older man named Dot Pixis. He had an odd manner of speaking, and his ways were not always perfect. But he always went out of his way to treat you kindly - something many others viewed as easily brushed aside - and he had a loyalty and trust to Erwin that you sensed not everyone had.

You also took kindly to Levi Ackerman and Miche Zacharias, both head guards set to protect Erwin and yourself, respectively. They both did marvelous jobs, for you nor Erwin had been hurt by someone will ill-intent yet. And despite both their quiet natures they were nice. At least Miche was. But they weren’t really ‘in parliament’. 

Nile Dok was the only other of those men that didn’t send your gut reeling in some way. He had a family on his own, too, and you’d seen how he treated them the morning after your wedding night. He truly loved them, and a man who loved his family like that was one who you trusted. Your own father was like that with you. 

Many other new friends were found in your new home, too. Hange was the head librarian, and with the help of Moblit the rows and rows of books were kept - not organized per say - but everything did have a place. 

There were those in the kitchens, and the gardeners, maids, and military personnel. You made sure to greet them all when you could. You were more than happy when they returned the gesture, even if a little more than some of them didn’t. 

But there were people you didn’t trust at all. They made your skin crawl. You knew you didn’t come from a lot, and didn’t expect the same respect that Erwin had, but what they showed towards you? Even Nanaba commented how you should be treated better. 

However they would never treat you any less than a queen unless you were with Erwin. Unless you were with your husband, the most powerful man in the country. As much as you liked Erwin, and come to even love him in some very small way over such a short amount of time, you didn’t like that. 

You didn’t like how you couldn’t get their respect unless you were standing next to him. 

So you made up your mind.

#medieval au #erwin smith x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #king erwin #commander erwin smith x reader #call me the au master

[jadedxrealityw]

-The Sun And The Moon- Luna Lovegood x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody: My favorite girl, i’m also using the headcanon where Draco and Luna are cousins because i can.

    Movie/Show: Harry Potter, ignoring the storyline, and the fact the weasley twins would have graduated already. 

    House/Year: Ravenclaw / 7th year

    Summary: You and Luna had been together since you were both 14, with you being the more aggressive one in the relationship while Luna let things go rather quick. Luna always calmed you down enough to not blow up on people when they messed with her, but one comment pushes you over. 

    Possible Triggers/Warnings: if you think girls being with other girls is gross, get the hell off my page, slight Hermione slander, cursing, the fluff, Draco being a cool cousin, 

     ☼-☪-☼

    “I know your awake” Luna spoke, continuing to poke your face with her finger. “No i’m not” you respond, turning on your side, so you weren’t facing her anymore, hearing her disappointed whine as you did so. After a couple seconds of silence, you feel Luna poke your back.

    “It’s pudding day. I know you're tired, but can you come with me to get some?” she says. Sometimes you wished you could say no to the girl, but it was impossible, it’s Luna were talking about here. Opening your eyes, you lay back on your back, looking up at Luna who was sitting up on the bed.

    “Fine, but i’m not changing” you say, her lips turning upwards into her sweet smile. Cute. “That’s fine, i’ll grab our shoes” she says, pushing out the bed and going over to where you kept your shoes. It was a saturday so you did not feel like changing out of your comfortable pajamas. 

    getting up as well, you walk over to the long mirror that hung by your desk. Yeah, you looked like you gave zero fucks today, wearing a plain black graphic t-shirt and black sweats. While combing through your hair with your fingers, Luna stands behind you, her dirty blond hair all messed up. 

    “Hi” you say casually, like she had just walked in. Luna smiles and stands beside you, shaking her head a bit as she quite enjoyed the messy hair look. After that she wipes off her blue t-shirt and light grey sweats “Ready” Luna spoke and you nod, turning away from the mirror.

    you both grab your shoes and slip them on. Luna puts on her red plaid converse and you just put on a plain black pair. After your laces were tied, you grabbed her hand and left the comfort of your dorm room for the glorious pudding that your more glorious girlfriend required. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    the great hall, seven minutes later

    some students were sitting at tables, most likely not in their perspective house, because it was seven in the morning and no one wanted to be alive at the moment. Luna on the other hand looked like a first year who had just walked into honeydukes. 

    “Let’s sit next to Fred” Luna says, not giving you a second to answer as she pulls you, by your hand to the Gryffindor table. Luna plops down into the seat, next to Fred, while you took a seat beside her. Fred looked over at the both of you and smiled “Morning you two, didn’t think you get up”

    “It’ pudding day” you say and with those few words Fred understood right away “Ah yes, pudding day. A lovely tradition” George cuts in, laughing along with his twin. Luna chuckles before scooping the chocolate desert into a bowl, a happy smile upon her face. 

    maybe getting out of bed wasn’t so bad afterall

    you watch as Luna stuffed her face with pudding, which mde your heart warm a bit “You’ll surely get sick if you eat all of that” and the cuteness was over. You turn your head slightly, facing the Gryffindor girl, Hermione Granger “Good thing it isn’t your call then, huh?” you say back, giving her a dead stare.

    continuing your unblinking gaze for a few seconds, it weirds Hermione out enough until she scoffs and turns back to her previous conversation. You had nothing against Hermione Granger, she was a sweet girl with smarts beyond you, but she had a little habit.

    that habit being sticking her nose into other peoples business

    on any other day you two would get along like any other good friends, but she always had to let you know her opinion even if you didn’t want to hear it or if you were doing something she deemed unhealthy, dangerous, stupid, she would tell you every possible outcome and how your future children would be cursed. 

    something like that

    anyway, Hermione just pissed you off sometimes, end of story- well not really. You assumed Luna had not heard what Hermione said as she continued to munch on her food, which meant you went back to oddling her all while George and Fred made fun of you for doing so. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    courtyard, three hours later

    “What about that one?” you say, pointing to the blue butterfly illustrated on the page. Luna smiles, running her thumb over the picture. “That’s the blue morpho butterfly, there so beautiful, but there only found in Latin America like Mexico or Colombia”

    nodding long, you listened as she ranted on about the particular butterfly “Sounds like i have to take you to Mexico one day” you say, reaching your arm around her shoulder. Luna looks at you, her bright greyish blue eyes twinkingly “Really?” she had one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen. 

    you couldn’t help but grin back at her, leaning forward to kiss the side of her hair, catching the calming lavender scent she wore. “Of course, just need to graduate of course” you remind her. Luna nods before looking back at her book, flipping to another page. 

    “Hello”

    looking up, your met with the platinum blond ‘Slytherin prince’, Draco Malfoy. He was by myself, which was usual and he took a seat in the grass, in front of you both “Malfoy” you greeted him and he nodded in your direction “L/n” he replied in the same formal tone.

    then he looked at Luna and they both smiled at each other. Should probably mention that the both of them were distant cousins. Draco found out while digging through old family records a couple years ago and was surprisingly happy to have someone who wasn’t stuck up be blood related to him.

    ever since then Draco would hang out with both of you when his friends weren’t available. You had always known Draco as a rude and crude boy, but after watching him and Luna interact just showed you he was alone and needed family, one that didn’t judge him. 

    you and Malfoy naturally became close as well, considering you and Luna were together long before he figured out they were related. He jokingly called you his future sister in law, which didn’t make much sense if you thought about it long enough, but whatever. 

    Luna liked him, but then again Luna saw the good in everyone and everything. You were afraid her optimism would get her hurt, you even voiced those concerns at one point, multiple times actually, but Luna would say the same thing each time. 

    ‘your always there, so what do i have to worry about?’

    “What are you reading?” Draco asked, leaning in to look at the cover of the book. Luna lifts it up from her lap so the title is visible “Butterfly encyclopedia?” he read aloud, his eyebrows furrowing at the words while Luna’s face lit up “Yes! i put a bookmark for one i think you might like”

    Luna leant forward, pushing away from you so she could lay the book onto the grass, the place on your arm where she laid her head turned cold instantly as well. Luna flipped through the pages vigorously until she stopped on a page that had a pressed flower between the folds. 

    “What’re you all doing out here?”

    and there she was. You look up at Hermione, giving her a two finger salute “Relaxing” you reply “and reading about butterflies, would you like to know the one i picked for you, Hermione?” Luna adds, holding up the book while Draco avoiding speaking to the Gryffindor entirely.

    he was actually writing down the name of the butterfly Luna picked out for him. Hermione gives her a polite smile and shakes her head “No i have more important things to do, no offense of course” she says and Luna smiles before turning back to Draco

    that was the most backhanded shit you ever heard

    after that Hermione looked at you and waved her hand, signalling you to come over to her. You exhale deeply and push off the ground, pressing a kiss to Luna’s hair before walking to Hermione. She leads you a few feet away before turning to face you, planting her feet in the grass.

    “Have you or Luna studied for your N.E.W.T’s at all this month?” she asked, her head tilting as if she was analyzing your posture. “Yeah we did a week ago, we were supposed to this morning but-” before you could explain yourself, not that it was any of her business, she cut you off. 

    “Too busy sleeping in, eating an unhealthy amount of pudding, reading pointless books on butterflies, walking around in your pjs, or hanging out with that git Malfoy” she suggested. You swore your eye visibly twitched at her statement. 

    “No” you started with  bit more attitude then you wanted to add, crossing your arms over your chest “Luna was sleep walking, she almost made it into the forbidden forest, so i stayed up all night patching up her feet and watching her.” the way Hermione’s face fell almost made you double over in laughter right there.

    but she wasn’t going to back down easily “Then you seriously need to study, i have a group set up for tonight” she says, a prideful smile decorating her freckled cheeks. “Sorry, but i’m studying tonight with Draco and his friends in the Slytherin house” you couldn’t help but grin.

    “Why would you even bother with him, he’s a no good bully” she questions and she was kinda right, but Draco dulled on his bullying years ago when he met Luna and yourself “Because he’s Luna’s cousin and my friend” you say, you swore you have repeated these words back to her a million times already.

    “Now i have to go, see you later Granger” you wave your hand lazily before going back over to your small group. Draco looked up, taking a glance behind you. He snorts, shaking his head “What’s up her ass?” he asked, making you smile. 

    “The usual”

    he nods “I’m still a bad influence, huh” he said, mostly to himself “I don’t think your a bad influence, Draco” Luna reassures him, making him smile. That was actually really cute. After a couple seconds of silence the Slytherin boy looks between both you and Luna more than once.

    “You two are nothing alike”

    his comment caught you by surprise, so you just nervously laugh “We have some things in common” you say, trying to defend your relationship of course. Draco notices, beginning to laugh a bit “Not like that, i mean that you both have different personalities, but my mold well together”

    now curious, you wave your hand, gesturing him to continue his explanation.

     “It’s like the sun and the moon, Y/n you're all hot headed and very opinionated, definitely not afraid to speak those said opinions either, but at the end of the day the sun comes down and the moon comes up, which would be Luna, quiet with a calming glow” Draco said, pulling apart a piece of grass. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    hogsmeade, the next day 

    the study group with the Slytherins was more pleasant than you expected, you actually liked hanging out with Pansy, she was a cool chick. Anyway, now you and Luna were walking around hogsmeade wondering what to do. Luna wore a multi-colored sweater with bright blue pants and her usual red plaid shoes. 

    super cute

    you on the other hand wore something a little darker like a black and grey flannel, black pants with a matching shirt- well it was going to be a shirt until Luna surprised you with a lace tank top that showed a bit of your stomach, your weren’t super comfortable as you liked clothes that covered you up.

    but you could always button up your flannel if it bothered you that much

    “Where are we going again?” you ask, completely forgetting what she had said minutes ago. “Madam Puddifoot's for tea” Luna said, walking alongside you. You nod “Ah yes, tea. Didn’t Madam Puddifoot tell you she didn’t have tea with Gnome Saliva?” you remind her.

    Luna smiles, at what you don’t know but chose not to question it nonetheless “My dad sent me some last week, so all i have to do is add it myself” she explains “So that’s what those vials were in my chest” you connect the dots as Luna laughs. 

    “Were here”

    looking up, you saw the pink wood and grey stone shop. You could see the small cakes on display, in front of the glass. You would have to get a couple of those- for research purposes of course. You stepped in front of Luna so you could pull the door open for her. 

    she smiles and steps inside, you following after her. The smell of the shop was just as delightful as you remember and slightly overwhelming at the same time. As you expected there were multiple couples on dates, or casually- not so casually making out. Gross.

    (i’m guessing her personality as i don’t want to spoil myself for Hogwarts Mystery, hope you understand)

    “Miss Luna and Miss Y/n, how are you this evening?” Madam Puddifoot spoke from behind the counter, you look to your left to meet the gaze of the black haired older woman, giving her a polite smile “Were doing just fine, just here to pick up some loose herbal tea”

     Madam Puddifoot nods and turns around to seemingly pick up those packets for you. As you and Luna wait for a moment, your eyes wander to out the window to the shop across the Teashop. Across the tacky little shop was a darker colored store, a sign reading ‘Fine Jewelry’.

    “I’m going to check something out, will you be alright alone?” you say, slowly tearing your gaze away from the shop. Luna looks up at you and nods, smiling lightly “Sure, yeah” she says, not minding at all. You smile and lean down to give her a quick kiss before letting go of her hand. 

    walking to the door, you push it open and walk out, closing it behind you. You look back, making sure Luna wasn’t watching you walk into the store and sped walked into the jewelry shop. It smelt fancy, if that made any sense. It was like expensive looking to say the least. 

    “Y/n?”

    what a surprise, in front of you was Draco Malfoy along with his mates Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini. “Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, and Pansy” you say, smiling at the end. Pansy grins and raises her hand to give you a high five. 

    “I feel slightly betrayed. Anyway, what’re you doing in here, i thought i saw you with Luna like an hour ago?” Draco asked, tilting his head. You point behind you to the Teashop “She’s getting tea and cakes so i took the opportunity to look at rings”

    Draco’s grey eyes widen a bit at your statement and you immediately knew where his mind went “Pump the brakes ferret, i’m getting a promise ring. I’m not proposing” you said quickly. Draco’s expression fell abit, causing his mates around him to laugh. “He just can’t wait to be a flower girl” Pansy commented.

    “I would be a great flower boy” Draco portested, making you smile at the thought, but yeah he would. As they laughed amongst themselves you began to walk around the shop. Nothing seemed to interesting, Luna liked simple things and all of these were over the top. 

    even though you were looking for one single ring, you made your way over to the sets, they had rings for couples and poly couples, but you just stuck with couples. Nothing over there was catching your attention as well, until you got to the very end. 

    you instantly knew you needed those rings, it was just to perfect, That was until you saw the price which read ‘150 galleons’ fuck, you only had maybe 90 saved up back at your dorm and 20 in your bag on you. It was like the universe was taunting you.

    backing away, you were ready to leave the shop defeated “Yeah i’ll take that set, the one for 150. Just bill it to Lucius Malfoy” Draco spoke. What the fuck. You look at him dumbfounded as the shopkeep got two black velvet boxes, putting each ring in it. 

    the older man gave Draco a smile “I hope that lucky girl appreciates it” he said. Draco nods “Oh i hope so” he says and walks over to you, handing you the two boxes. “you must really want to be a flower boy” you joked, making him chuckle. He nudges your shoulder with his hand “Yeah totally”

        ☼-☪-☼

    once you were out the shop, your eyes were glued onto the boxes wondering how and when you should give it to Luna. While distracted you shoulder checked somebody walking by and not being a total asshole, you whip round to apologize. 

    “Oh Granger, sorry for bumping into you. I zoned out” you explain. Hermione gives you a polite smile. She was with Harry and Ron “Potter, Weasley. How are you?” you asked, not wanting them to think you were ignoring them or something. 

    “Just looking around, Ron already spent all his galleons on sweets” Harry says, smiling at the end. Ron whacks his friends shoulder, clearly betrayed by the outing of his sweet addiction. “Oh that’s alright, i think Luna is spending all hers on tea and cakes” you laugh. 

    both Ron and Harry laugh along with you while Hermione gives you a confused smile “Your not going to stop her?” she asked, no you were slightly confused as well. Shrugging your shoulder, you shake your head “I’m her girlfriend not her babysitter”

    “Well of course, but shouldn’t you encourage her to save her galleons on more important things?” Hermione suggested and you understood her logic, but she was still budding into something that wasn’t her business....again. “It’s important to her, so no i’m not going to do that. Thank you for the suggestion though”

    in that moment, she saw both ring boxes in your hand. Following her gaze, you shove the boxes into each of your flannel pockets “What are those?” she asked almost instantly “Stuff” you replied vaguely as an arm wrapped round your shoulder. Oh yeah Draco was still there. 

    “Let’s go get some butterbear, yeah?” he suggests as Theo, Blaise, and Pansy crowd around you two, like some protective friend circle. The Gryffindors did not like the presence of your Slytherin company .“Ooo butterbear sounds great” Luna smiles, when did she get here?

    she comes up to your side, grabbing your hand, her paper bag in the other “Hello Hermione, Harry, Ron” she greets happily. She clearly didn’t notice the awkward tension that filled the air. Harry and Draco were glaring daggers at each other, have any of them blinked?

    “How bout you and Luna come hang out with us?” Hermione offered, but was shut down by Parkinson “Yeah they’ll pass. Thanks though” Pansy gave her a pouty condescending smile. Oh shit. Luna seemed to sense something was off now and shook her head “We have a study group after butternear, maybe another time?”

    “I-” Hermione started but Draco turned around, holding onto your shoulder “Don’t be a sore loser Granger” he said before you all walked away, leaving the Gryffindor’s in your metaphorical dust. 

        ☼-☪-☼

    the halls of hogwarts, a week later

    the Hermione problem progressively got worse, it was like she’d show up out of nowhere and bug you about everything. How Luna dressed, how she spent her money, how she spent her time, her zoning out, the sleepwalking and on and on and on and fucking on!

    you were so annoyed and over giving her polite answers at this point, but you had to manage. As you walk out of charms you hear your name being called. Fuck. “Granger” you say, pursing your lips together into an annoyed smile. “Hello Y/n, i wanted to talk to you in private” 

    you look around, gesturing to the empty hall and continued to walk “Yes?” you say. Hermione leans in a bit, making you lean the other way. Boundaries much? “I saw the ring boxes” she confesses, well fuck. “Okay?” you said, wondering where this conversation was going. 

    “What your doing is a bad idea” she says with a disappointed look on her face, what was she? Your mother? “Excuse me?” you said, slightly offended at her weird choice of words. “You can't just run off and elope, you have responsibilities here Y/n”

    oh, this is hilarious

    “Hermione, first of all they are promise rings, not engagement rings. Second of all, it’s none of your concern what i do with my life” you said, rather harshly while jabbing your finger at her chest. She seemed weirded out by what you were doing. 

    she swats your hand away “You know you are so rude! I’m only trying to help!” she says, trying to defend herself but you just laugh bitterly. “I don’t want your fucking help Hermione!” you shout back. A small crowd started to gather as the halls were filling up with students leaving class. 

    “It’s not my fault you and Luna are screw ups!” she shouts. Now, your mother always taught you to never use a spell on anyone unless they deserved it and you were positively sure she deserved it. You quickly pulled out your wand, but Hermione catches on, taking hers out as well. 

    “Expelliarmus!” you shout and her wand was blasted out her hand. Hermione looked disgusted with your behaviour “You are just a loony as Luna!” she yells at a last attempt. You raise your wand again, your mind running on autopilot. You didn’t even know what spell to use, but that didn’t matter. 

    all you knew was that you wanted to hurt her, but when your wand was grabbed from you, what were you to do now? Your head snapped towards the direction the pale hand came from and you were met with the worried eyes of Luna Lovegood. 

    the illusion had been broken, Luna now knew how Hermione really felt about her, but she felt as if she knew all along and ignored the possibility. She looked at Hermione, who had collected her wand form the floor, avoiding her gaze in shame. 

    Luna pursed her lips together before grabbing your hand, just like the million times before “Let’s go” she spoke quietly.

     ☼-☪-☼

    astronomy tower, fifteen minutes later

    the walk to the astronomy tower was silent, too silent. On any other day Luna would have been ranting about nargles, but she was too busy being lost in her mind while fiddling with her cork necklace. It started to worry you a bit, almost as if it was you who had done something wrong. 

    now you both were leaning on the railing, looking out at the castle grounds as the cold air blew against your face “What would you have done to Hermione if i hadn’t stopped you?” Luna asked, still not looking at you. You answered honestly “I don’t know”

    “That’s not good, not knowing” Luna says before more silence filled the air “i know that people think i’m strange or loony. It doesn’t bother me as i like being strange or loony. If i wasn’t i wouldn’t be me” you felt her hand squeeze yours reassuringly “So why does it bother you?”

    “because your my girlfriend, it’s like in the description to defend you, plus there assholes” you snear. Luna moves closer, leaning her head against your shoulder “i don’t want you to defend me anymore. I wouldn’t like seeing you get in trouble”

    “It’s not that easy” you protest, but feel her shake her head “I’ll teach you my ways- ow!” she suddenly pulls away. You look at her, instantly thinking you had scratched her somehow “Are you okay?” you ask, looking at her exposed skin for any marks. 

    she laughs quietly “yes i’m fine, i think something poked my through your robe” she says, rubbing her side. You laugh along with her until you realized what had poked her. The box- well boxes. Should you? Was it the right time? fuck it.

    “Uh- actually. I have something for you- for us?” you say and reach into the inside pocket of your uniform. Luna looked curious “For us? How peculiar.” she teases, making you roll your eyes. You pull out both of the boxes, one had the first initial one her name and the other had the first initial of yours.

    Luna’s eyes widened upon looking at the boxes “i’m not proposing!” you say before she could speak a word and a look of relief washed over her face “Okay” she breathed out. You hold out her box, but she takes yours instead “What-” “I want to see yours first, so i can put it on you and vise versa”

    your heart couldn’t handle it

    smiling brightly, you nod “Okay” you watch as she opens your box, her eyes lighting up as she’s met with the silver band with jagged grooves and a sun engraved into it. “A sun” she said out loud s you opened yours, pulling the similar ring out, but this one had a moon instead of sun. 

    you reach and grab her hand once again, sliding the moon ring onto her ring finger. She smiled, using her thumb to twist and turn it. Before she got totally distracted, she shook her head and grabbed your hand, repeating the same actions.

    you both stared at your rings for a stupidly amount of time before Luna throws her arms around you “I love it!” she exclaims, making the smile on your face even brighter if possible. “i’m glad you do.” you whisper, holding her close to you. 

    pulling away you give her a quick kiss that wouldn’t have been so quick if you weren’t surrounded by idiots. “That was so cute!” the voice of Pansy shouted. You and Luna pull away from each other to watch as an invisibility cloak fell off your slytherin friends. 

    “Pansy!” all three boys yell before looking down in shame. “Oh fuck off, i couldn’t hold it in” Pansy snapped. draco picked the cloak off the floor, shoving it at her chest “It took me hours to steal this from Potter and you had to go and ruin it!” he accused. 

    “How did i ruin it!?”

    “I believe Draco said to not make any noise while under the cloak as to not disturb Luna and Y/n” Theo points out, causing Pansy to send a glare his way, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest. They all start to argue while you and Luna look at each other wondering how you had friends like this. 

    “I love you” Luna spoke, holding your hand up to kiss your finger. You smile and repeat the same action with hers “I love you too Luna”

    ☼-☪-☼

    Click here to join my Taglist! @the--queen-of-hell @dracosathenaeum @queeriacs @marrymetheonott 

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody: i apologize for the Hermione slander, it was needed for plot. Forgive me for i have not slept yet lmao. Requests are open as always for any fandom i have in my bio. Anyways, peace. 

#luna lovegood #luna lovegood x reader #luna lovegood x you #luna lovegood x y/n #luna lovegood x fem!reader #luna lovegood x female reader #luna lovegood x ravenclaw!reader #luna lovegood x ravenclaw reader #ravenclaw #x reader #x you #x y/n #x fem!reader #x female reader #luna lovegood fic #luna lovegood fanfic #luna lovegood fanfiction #luna lovegood imagine #luna lovegood oneshot #luna lovegood one shot #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #imagine #one shot #oneshot

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

A Leap of Faith (Fellowship x Reader)

This is the result of binging macha tea, Lilo and Stitch and Brooklyn 99 simultaneously. Another crackpost. Enjoy.

Pairings: Legolas x Reader—if you squint, and consider pulling on his pigtails as “romantic”, which I, personally, do. Some nice paternal! Aragorn x Reader energy going on in there too, for your comfort. 

“Cartography” is the study of maps, btw. 

Peering eyes and stolen glances, both riddled with skepticism and doubt—that was all to be found among Aragorn and Gandalf.

They each sat on a log, and warily observed the Fellowship as a whole. Both were situated within the dimmed forest by the glowing and flickering campfire.

Each of the eight fanatic Fellowship members before their eyes all naively gallivanted about in their usual bickering antics—nothing short of tomfoolery.

Merry and Pippin snickered loudly, as they each used their smoking pipe's spouts to press in a snoring Gimli's nostrils. He abruptly woke with a snort, and a Dwarvish shout of anger. 

As Merry and Pippin each ran away with boyish giggles—a stumbling and yelling Gimli hot on their tails—Sam and Frodo were sat against the thick trunk of a tree.

The raven-haired Hobbit wistfully sighed, and spoke of the Shire, whilst Sam adamantly comforted the sentimental Ring-bearer. 

Y/n and Legolas stood by the crackling fire, bickering, as usual. 

The girl held out a dirty worm towards the recoiling prince, who shouted at her to stay back. Thoughts of germs and his hygiene were on the forefront of his alarmed mind. 

As Y/n grinned and continued handing the wriggling, pink worm out towards a disgusted Legolas, Boromir bemusedly watched on.

"It's just a mere worm!" Y/n chuckled, eyes alight, and brows raised. 

"Stop touching me! Stay back!" Legolas squealed.

He promptly brought his closed fists in close to his chest, as he trained his wild eyes on the wriggling worm. 

"I'm not touching you!" Y/n childishly countered, moving the worm closer and closer towards the prince's chest. 

Fanatically gesturing both hands out at Y/n, Legolas pleadingly turned to a staring Boromir, and shouted in alarm.

"She's touching me! She's TOUCHING me!" 

"I'm not touching you!" Y/n laughed, waggling the worm back and forth. 

"AH! TOUCHING ME!" Legolas yelped in alarm, pointing one finger, held above the worm, down in gesture. 

"NOT touching!" Y/n corrected in a taunting tone.

"TOUCHING ME!" Legolas adamantly replied.

"It's free air!" Y/n countered, throwing the wriggling worm at a gasping Legolas' chest. 

The prince frantically swiped at his tunic with both hands, before he snapped his enraged eyes back to Y/n. He then took to chasing after her with a large stick—promptly leaving behind a guffawing Boromir.

Aragorn and Gandalf both winced their eyes, and curled their lips in disdain. 

These were the comrades they were tasked with to the save the world? They might've quit and let Sauron win right then and there, just to save the headaches alone. 

"It is as apparent as the hidden conditioner within Legolas' satchel," Gandalf began to muse, capturing Aragorn's idle attention, "that not all among us, though I'd much prefer to believe otherwise, can be trusted on this journey."

With a prolonged sigh past his nose, Aragorn lowered the spout of his wooden smoking pipe from his mouth, and responded. As he did so, he continuously dragged his wearied eyes along each and every member of the Fellowship—each one now a suspect. 

"You are worried one of them will try to take the Ring," Aragorn lulled, his voice more knowing than curious. 

"Worried? Indeed," Gandalf drew out, paying particular attention to Boromir. "I cannot dismiss the warning in my heart, or that of Elrond's."

As Aragorn slowly ran his calculating eyes along the Fellowship, paying particular attention to his apprentice, Y/n (of whom still cackled loudly with a fleeing Merry and Pippin—both an angry Elf and Dwarf hot on their tails, as they ran rings around the fire) he took a moment to respond.

"What would you have me do?"

Inhaling in a wearied manner, Gandalf lowly spoke. He threw a heedful glance down at the ranger sat beside him, who in turn met his urging stare.

"We are to conduct an investigation," Gandalf began to declare. “In my stead, you shall thoroughly examine each and every member."

"Every member?" Aragorn repeated, raising his brows, before his conflicted gaze ran on over towards Y/n.

Catching the ranger's torn visage and trusting eyes, as he studied his younger cartography apprentice, Gandalf flickered his own attention on over towards Y/n.

She was now barricading herself behind a log with Merry and Pippin, laughing, as she and the two Hobbits threw worm after worm at a shouting Legolas and Gimli. 

"Well..." Gandalf lulled in amusement, "perhaps not all are to be investigated."

"Perhaps not all, indeed," Aragorn gently smiled, huffing in amusement, as he studied the girl's questionable antics. 

Slowly studying Pippin next, who bore similar qualities to the chuckling girl sat beside him, Aragorn quirked a brow up in Gandalf's direction, and spoke in a slightly bemused tone. 

"If we are following that logic, then Pippin, too, should be exempt from the investigation."

"No, absolutely not. I want him thoroughly investigated. In fact, examine him first."

~

A few grueling weeks had passed the Fellowship by, and a few more taxing days afterwards had since also passed. This was all following the harrowing ordeal within the Mines of Moria, of course.

Gandalf was now gone, which left a wearied Aragorn alone to conduct the investigation. 

As the Fellowship trekked in a silent line through the thick, mossy forest, Aragorn spotted a small clearing up ahead.

The meadow in question allowed sunlight to finally stream down in open rays—a much needed privilege for the wearied Fellowship.

It was also the perfect location to thoroughly examine each and every member of the Fellowship. 

After Aragorn had pushed the Fellowship a little further, so that they all emerged into the grassy, wild flower-strewn clearing, he had called for them all to stop and take a rest.

In response, Boromir and Gimli seized the chance to light a small fire, and prepare a stew.

As the Hobbits all collapsed onto the ground in a sighing heap—relieved to grant their shorter legs a break—Y/n, too, made a move to join them on the floor.

"Not you, Y/n," Aragorn gently instructed, inspecting his sword within the glinting sunlight. 

Sharing a glance with the Hobbits, Y/n knitted her brows. She nonetheless obediently rose once more, and walker across the grass to meet with the ranger—her teacher. 

"You're in trouble..." Legolas teasingly sung out.

"I know where you sleep at night," Y/n, in turn, sung back, mimicking his melodic tune.

As she strutted by the Elf, whose face contorted in fear, she steadily made her way on over towards Aragorn.

"What is it?" Y/n questioned him. She now stood a few yards away from the rest of the curious Fellowship.

Sheathing his sword, Aragorn placed a hand in the small of Y/n's back. She was the only person there he trusted above all else, as he and her had stood the test of time together—the ranger having been training the young cartographer since she were merely ten. 

With their backs now turned to the indiscreetly glancing Fellowship behind, Aragorn quietly spoke to Y/n. 

"It has come to my attention that someone within our company is not to be trusted with the Ring," he warily began, paying a skeptical glance backwards at the seven curious members. “They could be leaking information to Sauron. The entire Fellowship is under investigation."

Knitting her brows, Y/n lightly recoiled her head, responding. "That's ludicrous! No one here is a traitor!"

"Do not take this the wrong way," Aragorn began in a wince, half over what he had to say, and half over the girl's louder than necessary voice, "but you are a cartographer...what makes you so sure of their intent?"

"Ah!" Y/n started, holding up one finger. “But it is BECAUSE I am a cartographer that I am so sure!" 

Knitting his brows dubiously, Aragorn took a moment to respond. He was quite used to her antics.

"I don't like where this is going—"

"You see," Y/n interjected brightly, "because I am good at reading maps—”

"Please don't finish that sentence-"

"I know how to find my way into someone's heart!" she finished, drawing a love-heart with her fingers.

Aragorn winced his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath.

Studying his mannerisms, Y/n pressed on—panning and open hand out behind her at every Fellowship member.

"Look, what I'm trying to say," she began defending herself and her friends, "is that I know these gentlemen—I know everything about them."

Seizing the moment to teach his apprentice a valuable lesson in the ways of being a survivalist ranger, Aragorn threw on his lecturing face—one she knew all too well.

"Well, you're a poor ranger if you don't think that people can surprise you," Aragorn tutored. 

"Not these people!" Y/n affirmed.

Finding that Aragorn merely, and rather doubtfully, quirked a brow, Y/n tutted her tongue. She turned to the side, so that she once again faced the Fellowship.

They, in turn, quickly averted their eyes—some striking up lazy conversations, and others idly whistling.

"Here, watch this," Y/n started again, scanning her eyes along the Fellowship, causing Aragorn to do the same. “I know what EVERYONE is going to do tonight."

As the Fellowship warily glanced between each other—concerned over their nightly antics being exposed aloud—Y/n began gesturing towards each and every member, demonstrating that she indeed did know her friends quite well. 

"Frodo is going to go to sleep early, so that he can wake up first," Y/n began rattling off, raising her brows at a gulping Frodo. “Simply because he enjoys having five minutes alone."

As Frodo lolled his head from side to side, considering her words—ultimately deciding that she was correct with a hum—Y/n pointed at Sam, promptly continuing on. 

"Sam is going to count each strand of rosemary within his herb container, as a way to fall asleep," she pressed on, earning a slow nod of concord from Sam. “Reminds him of home.”

Dragging her hand across to Merry and Pippin, Y/n spoke again. 

"Merry and Pippin are going to whisper weird things into Gimli's ears, because they're trying to subliminally teach him to give them both piggyback rides—”

"I'm sorry, what?" Gimli interjected. He snapped his glare across at a sheepish Merry and Pippin, who each rubbed a hand at the back of their necks.

"AND Gimli will say he's going to take the nightwatch, but promptly fall asleep," Y/n pressed on, dragging her pointed finger away from Gimli to land on a very wary Legolas. 

"Legolas is going to sneak off, and crack open his conditioner he thinks we all don't know about," Y/n exposed, causing the prince's gaze to widen. “And then he's going to douse all his locks in it to collect moisture overnight."

Humming in begrudging agreement, Legolas flickered his gaze up towards the sky in loving thought of his fragrant conditioner—nodding his head once in admittance. 

"That is correct," Legolas shamelessly confessed. 

As Boromir stoked the fire, he began lifting a silver pot of stew from the ground, so that he could place it over the fire on the suspended wooden spit. 

"AND," Y/n brightly began in conclusion, pointing at a preoccupied Boromir, "if I run, and leap at Boromir, he will most certainly catch me in his arms."

Before anyone within the temporary camp could comprehend the girl's words, she had immediately begun sprinting on over towards Boromir, who still held the pot of soup in his hands. 

"COMING IN!" Y/n hastily announced, darting towards an alarmed Boromir with fast movements.

"NO, I'M HOLDING THE STEW—”

With a crash and a clatter of the stew falling to the grass, Y/n had promptly leapt from the ground, and landed in Boromir’s arms, bridal-style.

Grinning, as Boromir stumbled backwards, Y/n sent her beam on over towards Aragorn.

"See?” Y/n began in glee. “I told you! I know each and EVERY member inside and out!"

As Aragorn bit down on his lower lip, Y/n patted Boromir on the chest thrice.

"Nothing to worry about at all! This Fellowship is legitimate!"

Promptly scurrying out from Boromir's arms, like a skittish cat, Y/n met the ground below again with a soft thud. She dusted off her hands, ignoring the sighs from her mentor.

Possessing all the confidence in the world, Y/n placed her hands on her hips and spoke one more time.

"We're going to be just fine!"

If only her words remained true. 

#i needed to exercise my brain before writing an essay #boom #this is the result #legolas x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lotr x reader #fellowship x reader #lotr imagine #lotr fanfic #x reader #boromir x reader #middle earth x reader #lotr crack #lotr shitpost #hobbit x reader #legolas greenleaf #legolas #aragorn x reader

[jazzistolkienfanfics]

Melleth - Legolas x Reader

Type: Imagine Pairing: Legolas x reader Summary: Y/N knows some Elvish, but she confuses the two meanings for one word Legolas is continually saying: melleth (which can translate to both ‘female friend’ and ‘love’) Warnings: middle finger, mentions of being high, crushing obliviousness, ‘shit’ Word Count: 1462

Y/N and Legolas certainly made for a strange pairing wherever they went. Y/N, constantly covered in sweat, dirt, and occasionally blood, a decent height but absolutely dwarfed by elves (or most men, really), with a mouth like a drunken sailor also high on pipeweed and an irritating level of clumsiness. Legolas, ethereal, stupidly good-looking Prince of Mirkwood, taller than was comfortable for Y/N, never tripped onto his face in front of other royals, and spoke in a calm, agreeable voice on most occasions.

Outsiders to their life would never have assumed them acquaintances, let alone the most familiar of friends, with constant inside jokes with one another and the occasional awkward moment brought on by what the less ... stately members of society liked to call ‘sexual tension’.

According to Y/N, Legolas had absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. She’d heard his stories of his ex-flame, Tauriel, and how his father, King Thranduil, had declared her a ‘lowly Silvan elf’. The beautiful, talented, Captain-of-the-Guard Tauriel, ‘lowly’. Y/N was quiet certain Thranduil would choke on his imported wine if he heard of a human girl who was infatuated with his son, who didn’t like her anyway, as far as Y/N was concerned and aware. 

Y/N allowed herself some of her rare minutes alone, when she wasn’t caught up in all the action and battle as a result of joining the Fellowship after they’d helped her in a battle against Orcs, to contemplate on what life could be like with Legolas, permitted herself to briefly think of how he would hug her, how he would kiss h-

“Y/N! Are you coming, melleth?” the blonde elf in question called her name from where he exited the stable where Arod and Hasufel were kept.

Y/N jumped in surprise, her cheeks now a deep red and she was fervently thanking the Valar that Legolas was not telepathic. Though her embarrassment was muffled by the disappointment at hearing him call her ‘friend’. “Mellon! (friend!) Yeah, I’ll be right with you.”

Legolas’s face fell almost imperceptibly at her use of the word friend - he was constantly confused that every time he greeted her as ‘love’ Y/N would respond with ‘friend’. The beautiful, wild, headstrong human girl, he’d fallen for from the moment he first spoke to her, rejecting him so casually day after day, and yet still smiling at him and hugging him and ... it was all very confusing for Legolas. He knew that elves only fell deeply, truly in love once in their long, long lifetimes, and he was so sidetracked by her continuous ... ‘friend-zoning’ that he didn’t know if his feelings for her were the true kind, or just the kind he’d harboured for Tauriel - the same love young, naive children declared for each other.

But he did know that he found Y/N very attractive - from her e/c eyes that could hold thousands of emotions and subtleties at once, to her s/c skin that pleasantly reflected sunlight and was soft despite the fact it often had some small amount of dirt or blood on it, not to mention her unruly h/c hair that she was constantly blowing out of her face/fidgeting with in a most adorable manner. 

“Hey! Legolas!” the blonde elf jumped at the unexpected speech, looking down and starting when he saw her only centimetres away from him. “We going, or what?”

“Yes, of course,” he stuttered a little, then cleared his throat and smoothened out his speech. “Come on.”

He mounted Arod in one smooth movement, and held out his hand to Y/N. She was definitely gladdened by the fact that he was inviting her to hold his hand, but she glanced suspiciously at the horse he sat upon.

“Normally, I just walk next to you,” she said, and Legolas cursed internally at her quite valid statement.

“Aragorn said that we must move quickly today,” he said quickly. The Ranger had, indeed, said that. “And Arod does not like Gimli very much. So ... would you ride with me?”

Y/N grinned and let him pull her up so she sat in front of him, leaning over Arod’s neck. Legolas brought his arms around her waist so he could hold the reins. Gimli looked at the two of them and muttered something about ‘lovesick fools’, which made Legolas shoot him a scathing glare and Y/N give him a withering middle finger. Aragorn just sighed quietly, mounting Hasufel and pulling Frodo up. 

---

Hours later, Y/N began to shift uncomfortably and blink sleepily.

“It’s all right, melleth,” Legolas said kindly. “You can lean on me.” He was silently hoping, praying that she would say anything but-

“Thank you, mellon,” Y/N said through a quiet yawn, leaning backwards so her head (and then her entire top half) was resting against Legolas’s chest. 

The elf waited until he heard her breathing even out, and he was sure she was asleep, before he began to talk to her softly.

“Why must you do this to me, Y/N? Why do you flirt with me and blush around me and then reject me moments later?”

Unbeknownst to Legolas, who was still expressing his frustration aloud, Y/N had opened her eyes, and was fully awake and listening.

“I don’t understand!” he burst out, almost making Y/N reveal that she was awake as she struggled not to jump in shock. “I say that I love you, I call you love ... is it a human thing to ignore romantic advances?”

“Oh!” Y/N couldn’t stop herself and she sat straight up, twisting around to look at Legolas, who was somehow both pale with shock and flushed with embarrassment at once. “Melleth! It means love in Sindarin, doesn’t it? Shit - I thought you were calling me friend!”

Legolas took the hand that was holding the reins and smacked himself on the forehead. “I forgot that I was the one who taught you Sindarin! And I taught you that melleth meant-”

“-friend,” Y/N finished. “Does it really mean love?”

At this point, Legolas was wondering whether to tell Y/N the truth or not: to save him from the crushing mortification he felt of misunderstanding her for a period of months, but he decided that a late confession of his feelings would be better than potentially hurting her. Not that she would be hurt if she didn’t return his feelings, which was what he expected after Tauriel. 

“Yes, Y/N, it does,” he said slowly, looking at her - her e/c eyes wide with confusion. “I told you that elves only love once in their lives. And I think that my love is you.”

“You ... love me.” Y/N repeated slowly, knowing she sounded stupid but being too shocked to care. 

“Yes. And you probably don’t-”

“Legolas, if you say ‘you probably don’t love me’, so help me I will throw you off this horse.”

Legolas blinked rapidly. 

“I kept thinking you were deliberately calling me friend because you knew I was attracted to you and you were discouraging me!” Y/N explained. “And, honestly, look at you! You’re the Prince of Mirkwood! And you’re an elf - I didn’t even think that elves fell in love with humans.”

“We do,” Legolas smiled, his entire expression transforming into one of soft happiness. “Or, at least ... I do.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, before laughing loudly and unapologetically. Legolas’s face fell a little. 

“I am so stupid,” Y/N laughed. “I can’t believe I kept calling you friend.” 

She turned on the horse, lifting one leg over so she now sat side-saddle, and gently reached out, touching his cheek so softly it felt like a stroke of the wind.

“I am sorry for hurting you,” you said, taking a deep breath to steady yourself for what you would say next. “Gi melin. (I love you)”

Legolas breathed in sharply, surprise sketched all over his features. You gave a low chuckle.

“I thought elves were meant to be more observant than this.”

Legolas just rolled his eyes, pulling you towards him and connecting your lips softly. He tasted like the kind of pure, sweet water one could drink straight from a spring, and like something citrusy and a little earthy. Everything he did was gentle - how he pulled her towards him, how his lips softly brushed across hers, and how his arms wrapped around his waist.

“OI!” Y/N and Legolas broke apart at the loud shout, that had come from Gimli’s direction. “STOP MAKING OUT AND KEEP MOVING! Oh, and Aragorn? You owe me ten gold.”

Aragorn muttered something under his breath along the lines of ‘shit’, waving a hand for you to get moving.

Legolas kicked Arod into motion, both of his arms remaining firmly around your waist. “Gi melin, melleth.”

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to heart this imagine, give me a follow and/or request (it makes my day so much!).

#legolasxreader #legolas #xreader #lordoftherings #lotr #lotrxreader #you #x reader #legolas x reader #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #imagine #legolasimagine #legolas imagine

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione) Part Five

I hope you enjoy this one! It features a surprise snooty owl (I wonder who could own such a creature???) and some well-meaning concern from a friend. And some banter. And an expensive lunch. Because Theo is extra and can’t help himself. And it’s 4.6k words long...

I also realised that, since I wrote the first chapter basically out of the blue and not really intending for it to blow up into a big multi-part story, I’ve messed up the timeline a little with Harry’s kids, so I’ll have to go back and fix that when it comes to a re-edit before it goes up on AO3, but for now, just handwave it, ok? :)

Finally, many thanks for your lovely owls, anonymous or otherwise, about this story and where it’s going! I was honestly floored by the feedback I’ve got, and thank you to those who’ve reblogged it and helped get it out there for folks to read. I have a very small following since this side-blog is fairly new, so all reblogs are very much appreciated. I did a quick doodle for the cover of the story which you can find here, if you’re interested in how I pictured Draco and Scorpius standing in the steam from the Hogwarts Express from chapter one.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

___

Far earlier on Monday morning than she was accustomed to these days, Hermione woke with a start and frowned, confused. Eyes dry and prickly, and hair absolutely everywhere, she sat up and looked around, straining her ears as she blearily tried to work out what had yanked her so unceremoniously from a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep. Her Muggle alarm clock silently showed 05:54 in harsh red numbers, and nothing had touched the wards or tried to get in, though there was something thrumming against them, like the lingering reverberations of a plucked harp string.  

The temporary stillness was shattered when a wild scrabbling of claws and the beating of enormous wings started up against her bedroom window. With a flailing shriek of surprise, she nearly fell out of bed, but after taking a deep breath, she stumbled out from under the covers to wrench the curtains open.  

“Bloody owls!” she began, but drew up short when she saw the unfamiliar bird waiting impatiently on the other side of the glass.  

There, battering its truly monstrous talons against the glass, was a colossal eagle owl. When it saw her, it stopped its fussing to perch haughtily on the brick windowsill outside and fix her with a fiery red glare. If owls could have raised their eyebrows, she got the impression that this one would have done it at the sight of her.  

“Yeah, well, it’s early. What did you expect?” she groused as she slid the window panel to one side and the bird looked around her bedroom with obvious disdain. Imperiously, it stuck out one leg, like a noble expecting a servant to remove a dirty boot, and she saw a rolled-up piece of parchment with a green wax seal and a green ribbon to bind it together.  

“Who do you belong to then?” she asked, going automatically to stroke the bird’s flight-ruffled chest plumage. It instantly hissed and nipped at her fingers, and she barely drew them back in time. “Christ! No need for that,” she gasped. She’d never met a postal owl as cantankerous as this one. “I usually give visiting owls a treat, but I don't think I like your manners one bit.”  

With the letter in hand, she slid the window closed again, leaving a gap just small enough that the bird wasn’t going to barge its way in. She wondered if it had been instructed to wait for an answer because it began almost immediately clicking its beak against the glass and hooting indignantly. 

“Manners makyth bird,” she snapped without looking up, and broke the unfamiliar wax seal on the letter.

It had a cursive ‘M’ within a circle, but was otherwise unadorned. Unfurling it, she glanced at the name on the bottom and her eyebrows rose as her growing suspicions were confirmed. It was signed in a princely English roundhand by none other than Draco Malfoy.  

She snorted, glancing back at the bird who was doing its best basilisk impression from the other side of the glass. “Who else would have such a snotty owl?”

It hooted childishly at her again and she laughed.  

Dear Hermione,

I must beg of you to forgive the unspeakably rude hour of this correspondence, but I am leaving this morning for France by portkey for a couple of days and I had hoped to get your answer before I left. I should add now before you read any further — although with your kind heart I fear it may be too late already — that Cassiopeia here is not fond of physical affection, but is very partial to owl treats. She can be bribed into doing almost anything for food, but affection is sadly not in her nature, so please be careful with your fingers around her beak. The only reason I was able to get her to fly at all at this time of the day was to bribe her lavishly. She’s terribly spoilt, and for that, I’m sorry too.  

Hermione shot another look at the bird, who narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Cassiopeia, eh?” she said and the enormous owl bobbed a few times. “Prideful about your good looks then, are you? You should know how your namesake’s story ended then. But, I suppose you could be forgiven since you are an inordinately pretty bird. You’ll still not get a crumb from me after trying to take my fingers off though. I’ll be having words with Malfoy about that.”  

Cassiopeia ruffled her feathers and promptly turned her back on Hermione. The bird didn’t take off, so she returned her attention to the letter.  

I spent all weekend thinking about our evening together on Friday, but it will come as little surprise to you to learn that it has taken me all that time to muster up my limited courage to ask you to dinner at your next convenience. Naturally, I left it to the last possible moment to ask you. I have a place in mind in London, but it’s a little more out of the way than the restaurants on Diagon Alley. I have it on authority from the owner that you have never been there, and I would very much like to surprise you, but if you would feel more comfortable knowing in advance, then you can ask Theo while I am out of the country.  

Staggered, Hermione stared at the letter and found her vision swimming a little. Blinking, she was shocked to find tears blurring his formal — almost painfully formal — words.  

But how long had it been since anyone had actually asked her on a date? ‘Too intimidating’, ‘too boring’, ‘too work-orientated’, ‘too bossy’, ‘too driven’ were all things she’d heard at one point or another, and admittedly many of them from Ron.  

Thirty seven wasn’t even old - especially by magical standards - but she didn’t exactly have the same bright-eyed charms as someone like, say, Lavender did anymore. Hard work, and a draining marriage seemed to have sapped much of the youth and vigour from her. And, if she were honest, being replaced by someone supposedly ‘more attractive’ had damaged her more deeply than she cared to admit, even to herself. There were certainly days when she felt like a washed-up, burnt-out, dowdy old matron. She had crashed out of a sparkling career in the Ministry to run a scruffy old second-hand bookshop next to the newly-refurbished Florian Fortescue’s ice cream parlour.  

“Why are you even bothering, Malfoy?” she murmured aloud as she stared blankly at the letter in her hands. With looks like his — and a groaning Gringotts’ account if the rumours were to be believed, not that that mattered a jot to Hermione — he could probably have had almost any witch he wanted, his past and reclusive behaviour be damned. And yet he was asking her to dinner after having only met twice since they turned eighteen? Three times, she supposed if she included that brief encounter at the Ministry on the night of the attack.  

Perhaps he was lonely just wanted the company. Perhaps she was just… convenient; a chump with a soft spot for outcasts…

Before she let herself go too far down that unsavoury rabbit hole, she forced herself to read on, heart pounding. Outside on the windowsill, the owl had gone very still, watching her with curious, orange eyes.  

Please feel free to send Cassiopeia back with your response either way. I hope I have not overstepped or misread how things are between us now, especially given our history, but I find my thoughts returning over and over to our evening, and to that surprise lunch on the 1st of September. I’m not sure what I had expected when you asked me to join you that day, but I certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy myself as much as I did. In the years since I became Scorpius’ sole guardian, I have not sought the company of others, nor have I particularly enjoyed it when it has been inflicted upon me, but those two occasions spent with you have drawn me out of myself. You truly are a remarkable witch, and I’m more moved and honoured than I can express that you have given me even this much of your precious time already.  

Before I begin to ramble too freely, I think I must sign off here.  

Yours,  

D.M.  

P.S. Scorpius did write to me in the end. He has a detention already, and Potter’s youngest is also involved somehow… I will get more details from him anon, and no doubt a letter from McGonagall in due course.  

For a long time, Hermione stood in her bedroom, with her hair in a wild halo around her head and her scruffy old pyjamas hanging low on her hips, just staring at his signature.  

When Draco’s owl began to fidget and fuss again, she sighed and looked up. “Sit tight,” she breathed. “I’m going to get a piece of paper and if you keep quiet, I might bring an owl treat with me when I come back, ok?”

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes and ducked her head suspiciously, but remained put on the windowsill, so she took that as a ‘yes’ and disappeared into her tiny study.  

Grabbing a biro from the chipped mug that served as a pen and quill pot, and tearing a sheaf of paper from a muggle notebook, she scrawled a note back to him.  

With that done, and before she could talk herself out of what she had just accepted, she returned to his owl with a treat. The bird mobbed her for it instantly, but Hermione scowled at her, snatched her hand back, and barked, “Wait! My goodness, you are spoilt. Let me attach this first, and if I manage it without you drawing blood or otherwise maiming me, not only will it be a flipping miracle, but you’ll get your sodding treat, alright?”

The bird went still with a tiny shuffle of her wings, and stuck out her leg.  

“Thank you,” Hermione said tartly.  

Cassiopeia took off with her note attached by the same green ribbon and secured with a basic sticking charm. The downdraft from her departure sent bits of accumulated detritus from the window ledge spiralling up into Hermione’s face, but she coughed and blinked, and watched the bird soar way up into the sky. The receding dot of her silhouette banked west, out of sight and in the eventual direction of Wiltshire and Malfoy Manor.  

Malfoy Manor.  

She’d hardly given the place any thought since that fateful night ten or so years ago when Malfoy had been attacked, a whole wing had been burned to the ground, and Scorpius had nearly been killed. They’d never said in the papers who had done it, and the Auror Office had been distinctly tight-lipped about it. Not that she’d really bothered to find out more, if she were honest. Once Malfoy’s little yowling mandrake had left her office in his father’s arms, she had been almost instantly reabsorbed with her own caseload, and Harry had never mentioned the outcome of the investigation to her. A twinge of gilt shot through her but she pushed it down. It was hardly a topic for dinnertime conversation either, so she doubted she’d find out immediately.  

She thought vaguely about clambering back into bed, but since she was up, she headed to the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. It had been a while since she’d been up before dawn, and she had some paperwork to do anyway.  

Cassiopeia’s appearance was not the only unusual thing to happen to her that day. She had no visitors to the shop at all for the entire morning, but when the brass bell above the door did finally chime, she looked up from the desk at the back of the shop to find Theo striding in.  

“Hi, love,” he grinned, stepping deer-like over the stack of recent arrivals beside the counter and stooping to hug her where she sat. “Lunch. You and me. Now.”

“Theo, I have a shop to run,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t just… leave. Besides, I brought sandwiches.”

“I will literally pay you the price of an entire chest of first editions to spend the next few hours in my company if things are that tight. Or I could just… buy you an entire chest of first editions,” he said, adding with his most dangerous puppy-dog eyes, “Seriously, please come to lunch with me?”

She flicked her wrist and the ‘open’ sign hanging in the glass-panelled door flipped over to ‘closed’. “I’m not accepting your money, Theo. What’s the occasion?”

He twitched slightly and then flashed her a grin; a combination that made her instantly wary. “Does a gentleman need ‘an occasion’ to ask a beautiful lady to lunch?” he asked, his brown eyes wide with feigned innocence.  

Hermione slowly raised one eyebrow. “You’re gay. And happily married. And that’s a terrible line. Try again.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t take my very best friend out,” he shrugged nonchalantly.  

Something was definitely up.  

“Draco Malfoy is, and always has been, your very best friend in all the world. Try again.”

“You,” he said, actually growling the word this time with comical frustration, “Are one very persistent witch.”

“Mmhmm. How do you think I made it to Minister by twenty-seven, darling,” she grinned, still without getting up from her chair. “Last chance or I turn that sign around and forcibly evict you from my shop.”  

Theo whipped his wand out from his inner jacket pocket like he was in a duel, and apparently vanished the offending sign from the door altogether. “There. Your threats are empty. Come to lunch with me.”

“Theodore Nott, you return my sign this instant.”

“Say you’ll come to lunch with me, and the sign goes back up.”

“I will not be threatened in my own shop!” she laughed, arms folding across her chest like a petulant child. “Put it back. Now.”

“Say you’ll come with me,” he said with a wide, playful grin, planting his hands on the counter and leaning his long frame forwards.  

She had to bite her lips to stop from giggling. The charming scoundrel knew she’d say yes anyway. “I’ll tell Dan you were bullying me,” she said.  

“Tell him; he’ll never believe you. He thinks I’m lovely. Come on, Hermione,” he added, softening from playful to plaintive. “I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“You and my ‘very best friend in all the world’, that’s what,” he said, and levelled her with a flat stare.

Her stomach dropped and she remembered the letter from that morning. And its contents. ‘…if you would feel more comfortable knowing, then you can ask Theo while I am gone’ Draco had said. He’d spoken with Theo about asking her out. She didn't know whether to be honoured or embarrassed.

Seeing her expression slip, Theo came round the side of the counter to stand beside her and leaned his hips against the wooden desk. “So you like him?”

“I… Why would that be a surprise?”

Theo blinked, and then his gaze flickered down to her left forearm. Everyone knew about the word engraved into her skin with the point of a cursed knife — she’d never tried to conceal it — but not many knew the real truth of just how the slur had come to be carved indelibly into her flesh. Theo was one of the few who did. “You’re really asking me why I’m surprised you like him?” he said in a hoarse whisper. “You, of all people?”

She took a very deep breath, held it, and then sighed. “Let’s go. You’re paying though. And I’m drinking.”

He managed a shy smile, and as they approached the front door of her shop his shimmering illusion around the sign dissolved to reveal it once again.  

“Cheeky bugger,” she smirked at him and he waggled his eyebrows disarmingly. An undercurrent of anxiety still lurked beneath his jovial expression though.  

A number of new restaurants had opened up in Diagon Alley, but Theo’s and Dan’s favourite was a sleek, modern establishment, quite different from the fusty old decor of the Leaky Cauldron or the other more traditional restaurants in wizarding London. It also sat overlooking the crooked columns of Gringotts, and was eye-wateringly expensive. Naturally, Theo was greeted by name at the door, and the pair were shown without fuss or fanfare to one of the nicest — and most secluded — tables.

With food ordered, and enormous balloon-glasses of wine in front of them, Theo fixed her with a serious look and steered the conversation around to the real reason for his impromptu lunchtime kidnapping. “He finally grew a pair and asked you to dinner then?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “I take it this is… unusual for him?”

Theo tipped his head back and chuckled softly, sounding more tired than amused. “That’s putting it mildly, love. Until Friday, I had the devil’s own job trying to get dear Draco to leave his gloomy little manor house and come to anything. I had to blackmail him into coming to our anniversary, you know?”  

Hermione just frowned, not entirely sure if he was being serious or not.  

Theo let out a slow breath and stared into his wineglass, idly twirling the stem between long fingers. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said without looking at her, “I’m beyond grateful that he finally seems to be opening up to the idea of… being somewhat… vulnerable again, but…”

“You’re worried I’m going to hurt him,” she said quietly, and Theo bowed his head. “Theo, I’m… You know me. This isn’t just some one night stand with a rich, attractive bloke I met in a bar. I haven’t —” she leaned in close over the table and hissed, “I haven’t even had sex with anyone in years, Theo. Years!” She brushed an errant corkscrew of hair back out of her eyes, embarrassed.

His lips twitched at that, but his eyes remained stormy.  

“I’m not going into this lightly. I was honestly as surprised as you are, but I wouldn’t even be considering going on a date with Draco Malfoy if I wasn’t completely convinced that he was no longer the bratty little owl-pellet he was back at Hogwarts.”

At that, Theo barked such a loud laugh that the patrons at the tables nearby turned to look at him like he’d sworn in a church. He covered his mouth with his hand and snickered himself into silent tears for a good thirty seconds before she rolled her eyes and sat back with her glass in her hand, waiting for him to control himself again.  

“I’m telling Dan you called him that. And Pansy. They’ll love it.”

“Right,” she said, cheeks suddenly hot. “Well, as much as he might have been an owl pellet, let’s not have it become a ‘thing’, hmm?”

The mirth in his face simmered back down and he looked at her steadily over the rim of his wineglass. “Look, I care about both of you, and I can see this going two ways. One: you realise that the two of you actually have an awful lot in common, he takes you to increasingly fancy places for dates, you have lots of steamy sex, and finally settle down together. Two: the past gets in the way, you both say hurtful stuff you don’t really mean, and you both end up single and twice as miserable as you were before you went for lunch at the Leaky. Don't think I didn’t know about that, either,” he added.  

“You’re such a gossip,” she snapped.  

“I was being serious, Hermione,” he said, leaning to one side as their food arrived.  

She paused until the waiter had left but didn’t make any move to pick up her cutlery. “Are you looking out for him or for me?” she asked.  

Theo sighed. “Both of you. But…”

“Mostly Draco, huh?”

“He’s like a brother to me, Hermione. He was there for me when no one else was. You know the things my father did to me as a child, and Draco helped me through all of it. And ‘Cissa too. And I couldn’t believe it when he actually showed up at drinks the other night. Watching him, it… it was like the old Draco had come back to me. The nice ‘old Draco’, I mean.” His eyes glistened and he blinked rapidly, voice cracking as he continued. “After the attack, he shut himself away at the Manor with Scorpius, as if he could keep the whole world out just to keep little Scorp safe. I thought… I thought he’d never leave, Hermione.”

“You never talked about any of this,” she said gently, forcing herself to make a start on her linguine despite the fact that her appetite had vanished almost completely.  

Theo shrugged. “I guess… I guess I wanted to give him the privacy he craved, and to be honest, I didn’t think you’d be all that sympathetic to him after your history.”

At that, she scowled, but she could see his point. “Theo, I held his screaming infant in my arms for hours while he was being questioned by the Aurors that night. I saw his face when he came to my office for Scorpius afterwards.” She shook her head. “No one who saw him then could believe he was even a shadow of the person he had been at Hogwarts.”

At her words, Theo had stopped eating, fork held loosely between perpetually-ink-stained fingers even as it rested on his plate. “You did? He never said.”

She tried not to examine that last comment too closely. “Mm. Harry didn't know what else to do with him, so he brought Scorpius to me to see if I could quieten him down. In the end all it took was a handful of my hair and a few poorly-sung folk songs. But you’re missing the point, Theo. You could have trusted me with things that were worrying you. I would have listened to you.”

“I —” he cut off and cleared his throat. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… Aside from Dan, I don’t think I love anyone as much as I love him.”

It was Hermione’s turn to choke up a little, but she swallowed and said, “Then I can think of no greater accolade for his character.” She looked up at him and added, “So where’s he taking me then?”

“You said yes?”

“I did. I like him. And not just because he looks like a flipping marble statue brought to life. He’s thoughtful, and he always was extremely intelligent and articulate. I’ve really enjoyed talking with him this time around. I think… I think…” she pursed her lips and took a too-big gulp of wine. Luckily it all went down the right way, and she forged on. “I think… we could work. Or at least… I want to see where it goes, Theo.”

With a slow nod, Theo finally relaxed his shoulders and let out a shaky breath. “He wants to take you to The Foundry.”  

“I’ve never heard of it,” she mumbled. It wasn’t one of the ones in Diagon Alley, for sure.

Theo made a side-to-side movement of his head. “I’m not surprised. It’s…”

“Oh God, is it horrifically expensive?” she asked, eyes wide with a sudden abject terror. “Theo, if he’s going to take me somewhere hideously fancy for our first date, I’m going to back out right now…”

The corners of his lips lifted and he shook his head. “Not in the way you’re thinking. You have to know the owners to get a table though, and there are no menus. They’ll ask if you have any allergies, but other than that, you eat what they serve you.”

“Holy fuck, Theo…”

“Trust me, you’ll love it. The place used to be a bell foundry in the seventeenth century — hence the name — and it’s this gorgeous brick building with arches and vaults, and cosy little corners,” he added, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll forget where you are and be as comfortable as if you were in your own pokey little Muggle living room. I promise.”

She narrowed her eyes and took another gulp of wine. “I’ll take your word for it, Nott,” she said. “What should I wear?”

Without hesitation, he said, “That burgundy number you haven’t worn since Pansy told you to buy it.”

She blanched at that. “Theo, it’s…”

“Gorgeous? Revealing in all the right ways, yet modest enough to suit you? Dead sexy? Exactly the kind of thing that will make Draco lose his goddamn mind when he sees you in it? The kind of thing that will make him spend all evening simultaneously admiring you in it and mentally tearing it off you —”

“Theo, stop!” she hissed, flushing darker. “For God’s sake shut up!”

He cackled into the remainder of his wine, but refused to give any more sartorial advice.  

“Burgundy dress and heels it is, I guess,” she said, and the two of them focused on their food again.  

“I hope,” Theo said as they left a very leisurely two hours later, “I hope you don’t think I was too…” he jiggled nervously on the balls of his feet as he held the door open for her, “Overbearing…”

“I mean, you did ambush me, blackmail and threaten me into having lunch with you at the fanciest restaurant in Diagon Alley where I couldn’t reasonably kick up a fuss, and then proceed to tell me all sorts of heartrending stories about Draco and yourself…”  

When she saw the wounded look in Theo’s brown eyes, she stopped and turned to face him.

“Theo, no. You’re one of my best friends, and you clearly care about us both. Stop panicking,” she added when she saw the slightly wild light in his eyes. “You didn’t try to tell me what to do or who to see. You’re looking out for your friends, and making sure we’re both… serious about this. And I appreciate that.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and added, “But know that if you keep meddling beyond that, I will hex your bollocks off and make you explain it to Dan.”

“Understood,” he said with a watery smile. “I was worried I’d overstepped.”

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me one thing.”

“Name it.”

“Did you have the same talk with Draco about breaking my heart?”

His handsome, freckled face split into a blinding white grin. “I did.”

“Forgiven,” she said. “Now, some of us actually have to work for a living.”

“I work!” he squealed. “I work bloody hard up in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, thank you very much!”

“I know you do,” she conceded. “Not that you actually need a job, you filthy rich prick.”

Theo laughed long and loud, scooping her hand up in his and walking arm in arm down the bustling, cobbled street towards her bookshop. “And to think,” he chimed with a sidelong look down at her, “You used to be Minister for Magic with that mouth.”

“I know,” she said. “It nearly got me into trouble on many an occasion.”

Kneazel and Quill’s little sign swung jauntily in the breeze and Theo gave a slight bow from the waist when they stopped at the door. With anyone else, it might have seemed foppish and insincere, but with Theo, she knew he meant it. He was only silly like this with his closest friends.  

“Good day, fair maiden of the dusty bookshop,” he said. “And thank you for giving my idiot best friend a chance.”

Hermione nodded and smiled. She stood and soaked up the autumn sunshine for a while as she watched his retreating back, until he eventually disappeared into the Diagon Alley entrance to the Ministry and she slid back into the musty quiet of her little sanctuary.

Chapter Six

___

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of friendship! Next time, Hermione and Draco go for that date...!! Things will start to gain momentum too, fear not. It’s not going to be an eternal slow-burn...

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #dramione fic #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #theodore nott #hermione granger #let no man steal your thyme

[tuanyiems]

Caramel Swirls

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 3.8k plot: it’s date night but you’re both a little reluctant to leave the car, established relationship!au warnings – thigh riding, car sex, public sex, reader is a lowkey exhibitionist lol, unprotected sex, creampie a/n – this one is my favorite so far! part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

You glance at yourself in the full-length mirror. You don’t quite look like yourself. It’s strange but also exhilarating. You angle your body to the side, admiring the way the silky material hugs your curves. Give it to Yugyeom to be able to find a dress that fits you, skintight. 

Lifting your arm to thread your fingers through your hairline, you pause, eyes still lingering on your body. Surprisingly, you don’t hate it. The dress Yugyeom picked for your date night is a deep shade of green, almost black in the evening light, and comes barely past your ass. On both sides of the strapless material, an open sliver teases at your bare skin.

You dressed the outfit in layers of gold, from your shimmering eye makeup to the gold heels on your feet. Atop your shoulders is a delicate see-through shawl, lined with gold embroidery—a piece you had only ever worn once at your best friend’s wedding, but you figured this was a good occasion to take it out again. Otherwise, you figured you’d have been more fit for a club than a fancy dinner. 

You smile, puckering your Dior red lips at your reflection. You have to hand it to Yugyeom. You do feel good getting all dressed up.

Of course, tonight it not just any occasion. It’s your birthday! And Yugyeom was adamant on treating you to an indulgent night. After all, it’s your first birthday as a couple and he wanted it to go perfectly.

There’s a knock on your door and when you turn Yugyeom is entering your bedroom like a prince. His wavy black hair is parted, curling into a heart at his forehead. But what takes your breath away is the black suit that’s tailored to his frame. His white button up is partially open, showcasing his collarbones. Your gaze travels down to his chest that peeks through as he walks to you.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, hugging you from behind. You watch him through the mirror, the way he stares at your body showing his sincerity. Smiling, you relax into his chest, the familiar citrus and warm notes of bergamot tickling your nose.

You run your hand over his on your waist before turning your head up to look at him. “Thank you, you have good taste.”

“You really like the dress?” his eyebrow lifts in surprise.

You crinkle your nose. “Did you buy the dress thinking I wouldn’t?”

He chuckles, slightly embarrassed before shaking his head. “As soon as I saw the dress, I knew it was made for you. It’s different though. I know you don’t usually go for this style.”

At this, you break into a smile, sinking your fingers between his. “You’re right, I would never give this dress a second glance. But I’m glad you did, I like it.”

Pleased, Yugyeom pulls you tight to his chest and presses a kiss to your cheek, careful not to smudge your makeup. It makes you giggle, which makes Yugyeom smile even wider. He rests his head on your shoulder, gazing at you through the mirror.

“You look a little too good,” he pouts. “Makes me want to cancel our reservations.”

You meet his gaze through the mirror. You could say the same about him. He looks too good to be true in this suit. For a second, you seriously contemplate his suggestion, but ultimately, you decide against the impulse to jump him in your bedroom.

Twisting in his arms, you smile at Yugyeom. “How long were you on the waitlist again?”

Laughing, Yugyeom nods. “You’re right, we better get going.”

When you enter the car, you are greeted by a single rose sitting on the passenger’s seat. It makes your heart flutter. This isn’t the first time Yugyeom has gifted you with flowers before, but every time he does, you are reminded of a softness you’ve never felt in any of your past relationships. 

Yugyeom always has a way of making you feel soft and warm inside. You realized soon after you began dating that it was because Yugyeom as a person was just very soft and warm. From the moment you first met, you had felt it in his voice and seen it in his smile.

His aura, despite your own embarrassment and clumsiness, is the reason why you felt comfortable being around him. And now, almost a year into your relationship, you were still finding your heart fluttering from his small but sweet gestures.

Yugyeom takes a moment from the driver’s seat to watch you. Your eyelashes, dusted with the loose glitter from your makeup, brushes against your cheeks as you dip your nose to the crimson petals. 

To be honest, Yugyeom still doesn’t know how he got this lucky.

His days used to be so mundane. Of course, he loved his job and loved where he was in life, but it was still routine and pretty boring sometimes. And then you stumbled into his life like magic and made every single day since full of surprise and joy and excitement.

Even though you’re so self-critical about everything you do, Yugyeom thinks even your imperfections are perfect; like the way your face holds your emotions like an open book, or the way your words jumble altogether whenever you get nervous or excited. 

When you look back up to meet his gaze, your rosy lips stretch like a petal unfurling. “My mom called today,” you start and there’s a light in your eyes.

Yugyeom’s cheeks lift, dusted pink. “Oh really?” he feigns ignorance, looking away.

“Yeah,” you sing, leaning in. “It seems she received some flowers too. Have any idea about that, Gyeom?”

You press your palm into his thigh to stabilize yourself as you lean in close and when he turns to you, your noses are practically touching. 

Scrunching your nose at him, you smile, “Thank you.”

You press your lips against his, relishing in the muffled sound of surprise from his mouth. As quickly as you started, you are pulling away though and when you see the red stain on his lips, you laugh, thumbing at his lips. He watches you fondly as you do.

And before you can remove your hand, he grabs hold of your fingers, rubbing across them gently with his thumb. Still looking at you, he presses a soft kiss to your fingertips.

“It’s what your mother deserves,” he tells you. “She brought into the world my favorite person.”

You roll your eyes but the smile on your lips betrays your feelings. “This is why your friends call us saps.”

“They’re just jealous,” he chuckles, tugging at your wrist.

Lifting your brow, you give him a once over before shrugging the shawl off your shoulders. You shuffle onto Yugyeom’s lap, legs straddling one thigh.

“Something you’d like to tell me?” You tilt your head coquettishly. 

“Just that you’re beautiful,” he answers, hands coming around your waist. They run up and down your soft skin, between the gaps of your dress. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“You said that already,” you laugh bashfully, eyelashes fluttering down. You finger at the collar of his white button down, knuckles brushing at his collarbone. “How did you know my mom’s favorite flowers anyways?”

Yugyeom shrugs. “Her house was full of peonies, so I just assumed.”

You look at Yugyeom for a long time. You’ve only brought Yugyeom to your mother’s place once for Mother’s Day and only briefly. The fact that he thought to gift her flowers at all was a sweet gesture no other man has ever done for you before, but he even noticed the peonies in your mother’s garden and put in the care to arrange her favorite flowers for your birthday. 

You bring your hands to his face, thumb brushing at the moles across his cheek. Underneath his fun, playful character is his equally loving, thoughtful nature. How did you get so lucky?

“What?” Yugyeom furrows his brows at your extended silence.

“Nothing,” you whisper, before pulling him into a deep kiss. When his tongue meets yours, you can taste a hint of sweetness. Smiling against his lips, you wonder aloud, “Did you eat caramel?”

Yugyeom answers with another kiss, swirling his tongue against yours. The soft, velvet touch in your mouth sends a thrill throughout your body. Every time Yugyeom squeezes his fingers around your waist, you feel a heat spreading to your core.

Trying to soothe the need building in you, you press your core harder into his leg, whimpering when you rub yourself along the length of his thigh. As soon as he hears you, Yugyeom tilts his head back with a groan. 

“God,” he mutters, leaning against the headrest. His hooded eyes rake over your body. “Do that again, baby.”

He smirks, watching the embarrassment wash over your face. He squeezes your thigh reassuringly. “Don’t get shy on me now, baby. Do what you just did.”

Biting at your lip, you let yourself sink onto his thigh. The green material of your dress rides up your thigh, just barely covering what Yugyeom wants to see most. Clutching at his shirt, you slowly rut into him. The sensation brings a deep sigh out of you as you close your eyes to savor the feeling.

Yugyeom takes the opportunity to snake his hand underneath your dress to squeeze at your ass. Feeling your bare flesh in his hands, he smirks at you. “A thong, baby?”

“Not a lot of options with this dress,” you huff, pressing your lips back on his.

“Mm,” he hums with pleasure, squeezing at your plump flesh harder. He pushes you harder against his thigh, making you shiver. The smooth silk of your thong against his suit trousers makes you rub down on him faster now, the electric sensation building up in your clit. Already, there is a wet spot beginning to spread on his trousers.

“Fuck, you look hot like this,” Yugyeom mumbles, watching the way you fall apart on him. “Are you that desperate? You gonna cum before I even touch you?”

When he flexes his muscled thigh, you mewl, grinding harder against him. Already you can feel the tension building in your core.

“Fuck,” he groans when you ride him faster. You clutch on to him like a lifeline. He can feel himself tightening in his pants. But Yugyeom resists the urge to touch himself and instead, keeps his eyes on the way you’re soaking his pants with your arousal.

“Keep going, baby,” he encourages you as you begin to lose your pace. “Let me see you cum all over my pants like a good girl. When people see us, they’ll know exactly what you did.”

“Gyeom!” You moan, tilting your head back as you rut into his thigh. Each time, spiking a thrill that hurtles to your core. When he flexes his thigh once more, the knot in your core snaps, sending white heat throughout your body. Your entire body tingles with pleasure and Yugyeom’s name leaves your lips like a mantra as you fall into his arms.

When you finally come to, Yugyeom is smiling at you. Lifting at your dress, he smirks, pressing his thumb into the soaked triangle of your thongs.

“You made a mess,” he chuckles, pressing circles into your clit. 

“Gyeom,” you whimper, feeling the faint pinch of overstimulation on your sensitive bud.

Smiling, he presses a kiss to your jawline. “Is kitten hungry now?”

You shake your head, pulling his chin between your index and thumb, you glance at his lips before looking at him. And smiling mischievously, you reach your other hand down to pull the lever of his seat down, sending the both of you flat onto the chair.

“I want you,” you whisper into his ear. It sends a shiver down his spine.

“You are the birthday girl,” he concedes, tongue in cheek.

You grin, sneaking your hand down and cupping the bulge in his pants. He closes his eyes with a groan.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who wants something,” you tease, rubbing your palm against him.

“You looked so good riding me, babe,” he defends, a pout on his lips. You kiss it away, licking at the seams on his lips before tangling your tongue with his. At the same time your hands hurry to undo his belt, struggling to pull at the leather. He helps you out, loosening the belt and tugging his trousers down.

Eagerly, you pull him out through the hole of his boxers and unconsciously, your mouth begins to water at the sight of his hard cock standing at attention.

His dick is so hard, you can see the veins pulsing. You hold him in your small fist, rubbing him up and down until a small bead of precum leaks at his slit. He lets out a long breathy sigh, twitching in your grasp. Licking you lips, you circle your thumb across his slit, rubbing his precum in circles around the head of his cock until he’s shivering.

“Fuck,” he grips at your wrist, stopping you. “Quit teasing.”

You nod, pressing your lips to his jawline, your own patience wearing thin. Yugyeom shivers, feeling your teeth scrape against his lobe before you lift yourself off of him. Shuffling, you straddle him, hovering over his throbbing cock.

Glancing out the car window, you glance at him, an eyebrow cocked. Your red lips, smudged now, lift upwards, promising mischief. Running your tongue over your teeth, you stop at the edge of your mouth, peeking teasingly out of your lips just as you dip your thumbs between the seams of your dress. With a sudden tug, your dress scrunches down at your midriff and Yugyeom is blessed with the beautiful view of your boobs bouncing out of their confines in front of him.

“Oops,” you feign, your chest now in plain view of anyone who chances a glance past the car window. The very thought sends chills through your body and Yugyeom’s too. For someone so shy in their everyday life, you sure had an outgoing kink. Not that he’s complaining.

He loves this side of you.

“Come here,” he orders, tugging you down until your tits are practically smothering him.

Your skin is hot against his cheeks as he kisses down the valley of your chest, sucking a trail of hickeys down your skin. You whimper, nipples already hard with arousal. Another moan escapes you louder when he sucks a bud into his mouth, flicking it between his tongue while his hand comes to caress the other, rolling and pinching you between his thumb.

You lose your breath under his control, eyes closing as your body tingles with desperation. You watch him with lidded eyes as he moans around your boob, sucking on you like a starved man. You run your fingers through his wavy strands, pulling tight as you rub your core against his cock. Anything to relieve the throbbing ache.

The slight pain in his scalp only causes him to groan against your breasts, sucking you hard between his teeth.

“Gyeom, I can’t take this anymore,” you gasp out, pulling him off of you with a pop.

He nods, breath heavy as he grasps the base of his cock. He watches with blown pupils as you slip your finger through the string of your thong and pull the thin material to the side, revealing your lips, slick with arousal.

He groans, seeing your juices run down your thighs.

“Want me that much? You’re dripping baby,” he mutters, voice strained as you rub his tip between your folds.

He can feel the heat of your entrance teasing him. It drives him wild and you can see it on his face, the way his jaw ticks with self-restraint. It makes you want to tease him more, but the feeling of his head against your clit feels too good. 

You sink down on him with a sigh, eyes closing. You’re so wet that he slides right in, but the stretch is still delicious. No matter how many times Yugyeom has entered you, you can never get over how breathtaking the very first stroke feels. The way he breeches your folds, stretching you out around his thick cock always manages to break a whimper from your throat. This moan is guttural, pushing out from deep in your lungs as he pushes himself deeper into you. You shiver, cunt swallowing him in hungrily.

When he fills you to the hilt, you both sigh into each other, relishing in the way he fills you completely, in the way your soft velvety walls hug around him. You squeeze around him, enjoying just how full you feel.

“Fuck,” he whispers, cock twitching at the sensation. “Your pussy will be the death of me.”

Smirking, you roll your hips, clit rubbing against him and bringing another moan out of the both of you.

“Love your cock,” you confess, fingers clutching around his button up. You can feel his abs underneath tensing as you squeeze around him again. “My pussy was made for this dick.”

“Then show me,” he urges, bringing his arms to the back of his head. He smirks. “Ride me like a good kitten, hm?”

Biting your bottom lip, you moan, sliding off of his cock until only his tip is inside you. And in one swoop, you slide back down onto his length. Over and over, you ride his cock, mewling each time the head of his cock kisses your cervix. The pain and pleasure brings tears to your eyes as you bounce relentlessly on dick.

Yugyeom licks at his lips, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back. Your cunt feels so heavenly around him, his toes are curling in his shoes, but you look too good to look away. In those gold heels, legs spread wide and tits bouncing. He almost hopes someone really does walk by because it’s such a waste that only he gets to see this lovely sight. 

You ride him so well. He can’t get enough of the sight. He watches as his cock disappears inside of you over and over, your arousal dripping down his cock and soiling his boxers. God, you don’t know what you do to him.

Already, he can feel his balls tightening.

Stretching his arms out from behind his head, he rewards you with a thumb to your clit.

“Gyeom!” you moan, body shivering as soon as his thumb rubs circles against you. You swallow, forehead glistening and thighs straining. The sudden pleasure that shoots through your core makes you lose your pacing until your body gives out and you fall into his chest.

Yugyeom smiles, pressing a kiss to the crook of your neck. “You worked hard, kitten. Now let me take care of you.”

With that, Yugyeom lifts his feet to the seat and wraps his hands around your ass. And arching up front the seat, he pulls you into his chest and begins thrusting up, hitting you much faster and harder than you could. You let out a breathless moan, fingers threading through his hair as he fucks up into you. Your clit rubs against him, making you squeeze around him.

Your moans and the lewd squelching of your juices fills the small space every time he thrusts into you. You’re both sweating in the thick heat of the car and you’re absolutely positive the car is shaking from Yugyeom’s prowess, but you could care less. All you can think of is the sound of Yugyeom’s heavy breathing against your neck and the pulse of his cock fucking himself into you.

“Fuck, yes!” you scream, your body tightening exponentially when he rubs against your g-spot, sending an electric heat straight to your core. “Right there, baby!”

Yugyeom can feel you tightening around him and with renewed vigor, he tightens his hold around your hips, sucking a nipple into his mouth. He sucks so hard it hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure of his cock hitting your g-spot every single time.

It feels so good you could cry, each thrust making you impossibly tighter around his cock.

“I’m-I’m gonna cum,” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as you feel yourself at the brink of euphoria. 

“Let go, baby,” he whispers against your skin, thrusting harder into you.

“Gyeom!” you moan almost incoherently as you fall completely into his chest, body giving into the pleasure as a burst of ecstasy releases from your core, your mind going blank as the pleasure hits you in waves.

Yugyeom fucks you through the high, his cock straining as you pulse around him.

“Shit,” he curses, feeling his balls tighten.

And then he is moaning into the heat of the car as hot cum shoots into you. He groans, thrusting into your cum-filled cunt until the sensation gets too much.

You shiver, feeling him slip out of you. You let out a satisfied breath, feeling his cum, warm inside you. Arching up, you glance down. Despite the thong sliding back in place, his cum drips down your thigh. Yugyeom watches with you, his chest filling with pride.

Finally, Yugyeom lets out a laugh. “Is it your birthday or mines?”

You join him in laughter, fixing your dress back up before lying back down on him.

“That’s what happens when you go do things like buy my mom flowers,” you chuckle, palm on his chest. You can hear the beat of his heart against your ear, still thrumming with excitement.

“I should buy her flowers every day then,” he jokes, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

You smile in amusement.

Placing a palm to your cheek, he rubs his thumb across your soft skin, tilting your head to look at him. “Still wanna go out?”

You giggle, eyes curling when you stop to really look at him. His entire face and neck is smeared with your red lipstick.

“I don’t think we’re dressed proper anymore,” you chuckle. “And I’m pretty sure we’ve missed our reservation.”

“Sure?” he asks softly. “I can call to move our reservation. Give us time to clean up.”

You shake your head, lips curving up. “I don’t want to clean up.”

“Oh?” he arches his brows, curious.

“How about,” you press a light kiss to his jawline. You trail fluttering kisses to his neck and feel the bob of his adam’s apple as he gulps. “We go back up to my place and get dirtier?”

#got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #kim yugyeom #got7 smut #fluff #writing #fanfiction #got7 series #le chocolatier series

[mercurygray]

i saw your post about the ballet au and figured i’d hop on in the ask box to enable <33 (bc i am very much ✨intrigued✨ entirely haha!!)

So glad someone asked!  Behold, 1300 words of utter nonsense - featuring ballet himbo Talbert , fresh from a stint on An American in Paris because I can, a really lovely interview by @shoshiwrites​‘s Jo Brandt, and some very  👀 commentary from Tab’s instagram followers, who totally know something’s up between Winters and Warren:

He’d come back here with every intention of tossing his bag on the couch and filling his water bottle - but the problem was that the couch was already occupied. "Well, well, well,” Dick said, trying to sound angry even though he was the furthest thing from it. “Look who it is. Fresh from his European tour.  Still managing to convince people you can sing and pass for a GI, Tab?"

"And you're still managing to be a Disney Prince," Floyd Talbert spat back, standing up quickly so the two of them could watch each other for a bare moment before they broke and Floyd pulled Dick in for a big hug. “Buddy.”

“I'm glad you’re home,” Dick said, meaning every word.  

"Glad to be home,” Tab admitted, sitting back down on the couch with an undignified flop. “Musical theatre is fun, but I want to get back to my roots, you know? Speaking of which - reviews on Mayerling are fantastic,” Floyd said with a grin. “I watched some clips on the plane. Who knew you could do hot?" He grinned at Dick’s slight unease. "So, where's the girl you get to seduce every night? I want to meet her, she's out here making you look like a sex god." He flipped open the magazine he’d been reading to the photospread, an impossibly nice art shot of Dick doing something wildly athletic. "Case in point: Hello, Mr. January."

Dick felt himself blush a little. "Will you stop? Your blogger entourage is rotting your brain." 

"Have to give the fans what they want, Dick,” Tab said, leaning back on the couch. “I am what the internet calls 'a simple himbo' and I'm having a moment. Speaking of which, we need a picture of the two of us so we can break Instagram." He turned around on the couch so he could hold up his phone. “Smile!”

"Please don't put something stupid in the caption," Dick begged, somewhat toothlessly, knowing that Tab was going to do...whatever Tab was going to do.

Tab composed for a moment and read aloud. “Hanging out with man/myth/legend Winters in between #Mayerling shows. Plans to invade Europe developing nicely. #2021tour #companydance #himbosanonymous”

Dick sighed and made a vague gesture before going to fill his water bottle, listening while Tab’s phone made a series of noises indicating the world thought well of the photo, and came back to his friend paging happily through his comments. “Hey, you didn’t answer my question. The internet needs to know more about the situation with your new principal, while I’m here. They want the deets. Although I really want to steer them towards this article, which is delightful, by the way. You should have Jo Brandt write copy for everything.”

“I haven’t read it,” Dick admitted, digging in his bag for his shoes.

Tab made a noise of disgust. “Dick!”

“I have to rehearse, Tab.”

“Fine, then I’ll read it to you while you warm up,” Tab said, unstoppable. “I might skip a bit, you know, for reasons.”

He cleared his throat and settled into a seat against the wall. "After the events of last year, it's clear that the Company's board and creative team are eager to turn over a new leaf - and what a leaf it is. Heading in a new direction with a blazingly hot ballet that will make converts of even the most lackluster of classical dance fans, they've also enlisted the talents of a new principal whose roots in the dance world run deep. A graduate of the Royal Ballet School, with stints in Paris, Vienna, and San Francisco, Joan Warren’s dance credentials are impeccable - a fact that should be shared before we mention that her uncle is also on the board of this prestigious institution. But there was little favoritism in her selection - a field of twenty candidates were all in the running for Eileen Hammond’s position.

Was it intimidating, I ask, coming on to such a team at such a time? Hammond's pointe shoes were considerable ones to fill, and Winters - he smiles as I suggest this - has been known to be a formidable partner. "You know, I did meet her, after we'd been in rehearsals for a while, and we got on pretty well. She's been such a part of the company and the reputation that's been built here. But everyone's been very welcoming, and kind."

Winters is quick to remind her that she also didn't come in acting like she owned the place. "She came in for rehearsal like she was another dancer for warmups, and and the dance mistress comes in - oh, Miss Warren, you don't have to practice in here. 'It's fine, I like warming up with the company.'' Winters smiles as he tells this story. "She's going to laugh at me but she goes out of her way to make other people look good. Particularly me."

It's true - the twenty-eight year old dancer has never looked better than he does playing Crown Prince Rudolf. A man we've gotten used to seeing as the prince of fairy tales fairly sizzles in this role, which is a deal more sensual than his usual fare, and a large part of that, he says, is having a partner who sells that appeal to the audience. Warren's Vesera is magnetic, and one can see a youthful energy in her dance sequences with the company that seem at odds with the poised, collected young woman in the room now.

When I ask about playing a sixteen year old girl in an epic love story, Warren's eyes light up a little. "It's...you know, it's a fun challenge, and there's so much there to work with. Rudolf is older, and has been beaten down a lot, right, he's in this loveless marriage and his mother is very demanding and here's this young woman who is...totally outside of that. When we're teenagers we think we can do anything, right? And he finds that..." she looks over to Winters, who is smiling and nodding in agreement, "Intoxicating. And she...she loves being in this position of power. She plays with him. But I don't think she really understands, fully, what it is she's playing with, how deeply troubled he is. For her it's just a game, and it makes it all the more tragic." Has she ever been in love like that, she chuckles a little and looks at her hands. "I think we've all been a little stupid, but fortunately, no." And Winters? He snorts and shakes his head. 

Do they see any of themselves in the characters they're dancing? "His drive, I think, to do better, be better," Winters admits. "He's very hard on himself, and I recognize that." And Warren? "I hope I have a little of her joy," she says, with a smile that suggests there's no trouble finding any of that in her life. "I'm not sure I want to be manipulative or naive." Her co star is quick to assure her that she's neither of those things. Their natural partnership here is just as palpable as when they are dancing - one will start a sentence and the other will finish, and they both constantly watch each other, waiting to see if the other needs help or support. It's truly lovely to be in the room with them.

After having watched them be wildly in love on stage, the energy here is much softer but no less connected - though they've only been together a few months, one gets the sense of a deep sense of shared understanding between the two dancers that will hopefully continue delighting audiences for many seasons to come.

As for what’s next, one needs only to look to the season’s list - the Company’s third show this season will again have them dancing opposite for ‘Sleeping Beauty’ - and we can only assume tickets will sell fast, if the success of Mayerling has been any indication. ”

Tab put down the magazine and gave Dick a long, long look as he paused and met Tab’s eye in the mirror behind the barre. “It’s a very nice article,” Dick allowed. Tab huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Where’s Lew? Has he read this?”

“Probably,” Dick allowed, going back to his stretches. Tab was already back on his phone, taking yet another photo of the magazine spread.

#ballet au #utter nonsense #wexhappyxfew #asked and answered

[cvriolanus]

pretty thing | caliban imagine

a/n: hello! this is my very first oneshot for caliban, as well as my first time writing again in over two years... please be patient with me, any mistakes or errors are my own. if you want to request something caliban related, just message me! i’ll be happy to write for you! also, feedback is always appreciated! thank you.

plot: you and caliban get up to some fun in Hell’s library.

warnings: fem!reader, manipulation, cocky caliban, sexual tension, fluff but not really??

˚✧₊♡⁎⁺˳.•

Caliban didn’t know what to make of you.

You confused him, so oblivious of his affection towards you. Caliban was drawn to you the moment he felt your presence, lingering next to the daughter of the Dark Lord, Sabrina Spellman.

Your bright eyes, shining in interest at the setting around you. Completely unaware of the hungry looks half the court was making at you, it made his insides burn. Unfortunately, he could do little to stop it. You weren’t his, you didn’t belong to him. The only thing Caliban could do was watch you from afar, making sure nothing happened to you, he made sure you were safe. That nobody would lay a finger on you or he’d drag them to Hell himself and make sure that their bodies were unrecognizable once he was finished. He could be cruel, he was aware of that already, but for you — he wasn’t sure how far he’d go to make sure that nobody would harm you. The thought alone infuriated him and he had no idea why.

You would often accompany Sabrina to Hell, asking if she could bring you along since the first time you went to Hell, something making you want to go back to that horrid place again and again — you just didn’t know what exactly what or rather more, who it was. It all started when you, Roz, Theo, Harvey and Sabrina went to Hell to get Sabrina’s boyfriend back.

You weren’t completely sure what it was, but the feeling was there all around you. You felt warm, protected and safe. You didn’t know if the warmth came from Hell itself, but you knew for sure that Hell wasn’t exactly a safe place... If anything, you’d most likely be killed the moment a demon laid their greedy eyes on you.

Sabrina listened to you, at first thinking that you’ve gone mental, but after hearing you out she decided that it wouldn’t hurt. As long as you stayed close to her and didn’t wander off, then you could go. The only downside was that you had to wear a pair of deadman shoes again.

Today was your third time in Hell, Sabrina was sitting on the throne discussing business with Lilith as usual, the only unusual thing was that there was now a man there that you recognized from the ‘Shores of Sorrow’. He was standing next to the Plague King’s, whispering to each other while the nameless man, with dirty blond hair and flawless skin, watched you with piercing eyes.

You didn’t know who he was, just that he was gorgeous and apparently likes building sandcastles. He also seems to like watching you, since the moment you’ve arrived, he hasn’t looked away. His eyes were intense, his face blank of emotion and he did nothing but stand there with the Kings and listen, occasionally giving a nod of understanding.

You swallowed, shrinking more and more into the corner, until Sabrina called your name. You had to practically tear your eyes away from the man, or else he’d probably think you’re the crazy one. You looked up to find Sabrina frowning at you, before opening her mouth. “Why don’t you and I hit the library? Lilith was just telling me that Hell has its very own personal library, one that my father used to use when he wanted to be alone. It has all these ancient texts and I know how much you love to read.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds lovely. Show me the way, ‘Brina.” Sabrina smiled brightly, before taking your hand into hers and leading you to the library. Once the two of you got there, Lilith immediately pops up in a tornado of raging flames, giving Sabrina a hard glare. “I told you that you could visit the library after your duties were finished for the day.”

Sabrina looked sheepish, opening her mouth to make up an excuse, but you beat her right to it. “Oh, Sabrina was just showing me the way here since she knows how much I love to read, she was afraid I’d get lost and felt that I needed to escape since I looked a little out of place,” you replied smoothly.

Lilith looked like she didn’t believe you, which she probably didn’t, but she nodded anyways. “Quite. You will stay here until Sabrina is finished, and then, and only then, she will come back to collect you to bring you back home, mortals don’t belong here anyways.”

You frowned, “Alright.” Sabrina shook her head, clearly disapproving of the way Lilith seemed to talk down at you, instead of with you. “Come Sabrina, we still have much to discuss.” Lilith spoke, clearly feeling impatient by the way she was tapping her foot against the hard marble. Sabrina gave you an apologetic look, promising you that she wouldn’t be long.

Once the two of them left, you went ahead and went through the many isles of bookshelves. This had to be the biggest library you’ve ever stepped foot into, it was at least twenty times bigger than the one at the Academy, it just had to be.

You roamed the different isles of books, running your fingertips over the spines of books gently. You wondered if you could do some research and find out why you were so drawn to Hell. As you collected the books you found that would be helpful, you made your way to the back of the library, seeing a bunch of cherry-wooden tables lined up with chairs for your pleasure.

You grinned, grateful as you hurriedly dropped the books on the table with a huff, they were absolutely heavy. You sat down, taking the first book in your view and opening it up, trailing your finger down the table of contents. Of course, there was a massive fireplace crackling away, keeping the library warm and comfortable.

A hour had passed, with you already halfway through the giant book when you heard the large, oak doors slam shut. You jumped, easily spooked out by the loud sound. You lifted your head, wincing slightly from your neck cracking. “Hello?” you asked, wondering if Sabrina had returned.

Nobody answered.

You were certain that you heard the doors to the library open and close, so you decided to get up and investigate. With your heart pounding against your ribcage frantically, you carefully got up and made your way to the nearest isle of books. With a shaky breath, you called out again. “Sabrina? Is that you?” Maybe whoever it was couldn’t hear you since this place was so massive, but it was so quiet in here... surely, that couldn’t be the case.

You walked slowly, your sneakers luckily not making any noise which you were thankful for. You heard another sound suddenly, and it sounded like a cry for help, a woman’s cry. “H-Hello? Please answer me,” you begged, beginning to really panic now. The crying grew closer with each step you took, seeming to get louder and louder as the person crying was full on screaming now, shaking the walls of this place.

You quickly ran down the long isle, not noticing a pair of eyes on you. As you went to go another way, the crying stopped. It was silent, except from your heavy breathing.

“You have the most beautiful heartbeat.”

You let out a loud cry, grabbing a heavy book from the shelf and swinging it at the intruder behind you, before they abruptly grasped your wrist tightly to stop your movements.

It was the man from the beach.

Your eyes immediately widened, “Y-You again, how did you—“

“I followed you. Figured a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be left alone down here, where anything could get to you and tear up that pretty face of yours.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, making your nose scrunch up a bit. “Who are you?” you asked, your voice stern, eyes ablazed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, I thought someone was hurt or worse—“

“I’m sorry I frightened you, sweetheart. But I must admit, I do like a game of cat and mouse quite a lot. As for who I am, I’m Caliban, Prince of Hell,” Caliban spoke, his voice deep and smooth like velvet.

You instantly felt your heart sink at his words, like a giant grenade bomb going off in you. “Oh,” you spoke dumbly. “Prince of Hell?” you questioned, still slightly shaken from this whole encounter. Caliban, the Prince of Hell, smiled. It was breathtaking. Caliban hummed softly, still holding your wrists in his strong grasp. “What would the Prince of Hell be doing following a mortal girl like me?” you wondered aloud.

Caliban chuckled softly, finally letting go of you and taking a step back, running long fingers through his blond hair lazily. “I’ve been following you, for the last couple of weeks... don’t tell me you haven’t felt my presence near you, I know that you could feel me,” Caliban purred, taking a step towards you, daringly.

Your mouth went dry, not sure you heard him correctly. “But why? You don’t know me, I’m just—“

“Beautiful,” Caliban interrupted, his voice low as his eyes seemed to dilate. You let out a nervous laugh, shifting from foot to foot. Caliban’s pink lips curled up into a smirk, “Would you like to join me in bed?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head, “What? No! I don’t—I don’t even know you! You could kill me!” Caliban let out a small laugh at your naive tone, backing you up against a bookshelf, his arms trapping you. Your breathing increased, pressing your back against the shelf until the hard wood was digging into your back uncomfortably, making you let out a small wince. His eyes lit up at the noise.

“I won’t hurt you, not unless you enjoy pain,” Caliban spoke, looking down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. Caliban bent so that his face was just mere centimeters away from yours, now breathing the same air as you. The familiar feelings of warmth surrounded you again, but you didn’t feel safe this time. Your lips parted, about to tell this guy to fuck off, but Caliban was quicker, pressing his lips against yours desperately.

You let out a low whine, immediately gripping Caliban’s arms just as he deepened the kiss, swiping his hot tongue over your bottom lip, making you whimper. You didn’t even notice, but you began kissing him back just as fiercely, craving his hot mouth on yours. “Please,” you begged, brokenly. You didn’t know what you were asking from him, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed.

Caliban pressed his entire body against yours, your nipples hardening at the feel of his hard body against your own. Caliban brought up his right hand, cupping the side of your face while continuing to kiss you passionately, his tongue now stroking yours eagerly, his thumb gently stroking your jaw. The Prince of Hell noticed how sensitive you were, he could smell the honey pooling between your legs. It was making him crazy, feral almost.

“Let me fuck you,” Caliban rasped, pulling only a inch away, grinding his hardness into your hips, making you let out a shaky moan. You didn’t know what the fuck was going on, one minute you were desperate to get away from this man, the next he had you pinned up against a bookshelf, kissing you senseless.

You were about to respond, but the library doors slammed open, your eyes following the sound of footsteps grow closer and closer. You swallowed, your skin beginning to feel damp with sweat. A voice you recognized called your name, making your heart begin to race once again. It was Sabrina. “You have to go,” you pleaded Caliban, who only seemed annoyed at being interrupted from his time with you.

A idea seemed to pop into his head only a second later, his lips forming a gorgeous smirk, “No,” he purred, bending down so that his lips ghosted over your ear. His lips began trailing down your neck, peppering wet kisses against your soft skin, lightly sucking on your pulse point.

You let out a needy moan, throwing your head back with a soft thump as it collided with the hard bookshelf, though you paid it little attention, too focused on this man that was making your legs weak.

Sabrina’s voice broke you out of your little world once again, startling you. She was coming closer. “Pretty thing. Are you scared of your friend finding us back here?” Caliban growled, nipping lightly at your neck before he pressed his lips against yours once more, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “She’d be so disappointed with you...” he trailed off, leaving you to your dark thoughts. “Just think, you’re getting felt up by the one person who your dear friend Sabrina is fighting against to claim the throne of Hell, is now about to fuck her best friend in the back of her father’s library. How scandalous,” he tutted, before letting out a soft laugh as he pressed another kiss against your plump lips.

“N-No, you can’t,” you wailed, trying to break free of his power over you. Caliban smiled, shaking his head. “Yes, I can.” Tears were prickling at your eyes, making them burn with angst. “Please, Caliban—I’ll do anything,” you whimpered.

Caliban seemed to pause at your words, hearing Sabrina’s heels clicking against the marble flooring, most likely trying to find you in this maze, but unbeknownst to both of you, Caliban had the two of you cloaked. Caliban pulled back slightly, looking at the tears pooling in your pretty eyes. He frowned, letting out a aggravated sigh. “Anything?”

You nodded frantically, your lips parting to try and compromise with this man. “Yes,” you breathed. “I promise.”

Caliban smiled, showing off his straight, white teeth. “Alright, well since you promise...” he trailed off, playfully. Caliban looked at you for a minute longer, savoring the way you looked to his memory. You were perfect in his eyes.

“I’ll be waiting for you tonight,” Caliban said, pulling away from you, though staying close. “Make sure you’re awake, or I’ll be very displeased.”

“Tonight?” you asked, puzzled.

“In your bedroom, midnight. See you then, pretty thing.”

With that being said, Caliban disappeared into a whirl of flames, making you jump. The second he was gone, Sabrina came around the corner, a smile on her face. “There you are! Sweet Satan, I was looking all over for you. Are you okay? I’m so sorry I left you alone, but business in Hell is a little... overwhelming.”

You shook your head, smiling as you tried blinking away your tears. “I’m fine, let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Sabrina sighed, nodding at you. “Absolutely, I’m starving. You want to grab something to eat? Maybe we can catch a movie later to, if you’re willing to stay over.”

You agreed happily, “Sure, I just can’t be out too late.”

Sabrina wiggled her eyebrows at you, walking by your side to the entrance of the library. “Ooh, you’ve got plans with someone or something?”

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest at the thought of him. “Or something.”

Sabrina laughed, taking your hand so that she could bring you back to earth. You would never openly admit it, but you were looking forward to later that night.

fin

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