#take one free comfort from sweet spirit

[lokisgoodgirl]

Comfort & Joy: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (9) Roll up, roll up for the Stark Christmas Jamboree. Where candied nuts and cunning plans both come with an extra sprinkling of festive sweetness. (w/c 7.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Humour, Asgardian lore, fluff, all the feels. Smut references. A/N: This is the final final edition of The Lakes.

“Remind me, what named day is this in your charming yuletide festivities?” Loki inquired as you stepped out the revolving door of the Tower.

Charming. You smiled.

Last year it would have been any number of synonyms for stupid. You could hear them, see his lips curling the words from memory. Gratuitous. Senseless. Superfluent. Foolish.

But that was your problem, you recognised, not his.

“I don’t think it has one officially,” you shivered, nestling your chin deeper into the scarf. Fuck, it was cold today. “But I call it Christmas Eve, Eve.”

You sighed, watching crowds of the general populous making their way in shuffling merriment towards the Christmas market. No, not market. Festive Jamboree.

Tony had taken it upon himself to create a mini-wonderland right outside the Tower for one day only, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital.

A ferris wheel rose at the end of the cordoned street, every carriage packed. The smell of hot-dogs and caramelised almonds filled the air, old-time speakers tied to high lamps blaring Andy Williams at a volume that couldn’t be code compliant. “Lighten up, darling” Loki chirped as a gloved hand laced with your own. You turned to him, forcing a smile through the nerves. He looked phenomenal. A high collared coat of darkest green framed his cheekbones, pink tipped in the sudden chill. The one you’d seen in the window. You couldn’t resist. But when it came to Loki, what else was new?

He’d popped the collar, loose strands of onyx hair tumbling over the thick of his scarf. The one you’d bought him, of course.

Against the pale of his skin, dark brows peaked above a lowered fan of lashes while his gaze lingered on your intertwined digits. He raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it firmly.

“This will be fun,” he murmured against your glove with a knowing glint. “Have you planned...something?” you laughed. “Other than the thing.”

The nerves were fading, finally. He pressed his free hand against his chest in mock-hurt. “You wound me with your suspicions, madam” he purred, playful insolence thick in his tone. He sniffed, raising his chin. “I am merely imbibed with the spirit of the season.” Mid-giggle, your whole body rocked forwards as two hands shook your shoulders from behind. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve, sister!” Thor boomed in your ear. There was ringing. Thor looked good. He smelled good. And blessedly for now at least, there were no crumbs in his beard. “And to you, brother” Loki said, smile widening.

Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki’s jovial demeanour with suspicion. “And to you, brother-” he rumbled. His interest was piqued. “What has my Sponge of a sibling in such a buoyant mood this fine December day?” “It’s Scrooge,” you corrected, grinning. Thor grinned back as all eyes fell on your lover.

Loki gaped, darting his gaze between you both.

“Scrooge?!” he scoffed incredulously. “In past years, perhaps. Yet despite your attempt to churl me, I shall take it as a compliment,” Loki said, squeezing your hand, “for I too was visited by three spirits and thus...changed forever.” Thor frowned, “spirits, says you?” “Yes, brother. Yourself, Rogers, and the spectre of that ghastly reclining chair.”

Thor chuckled, before being distracted by something deeper within the crowd. Or someone. He cleared his throat. “I must to the candied nuts, brother” he muttered formally.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers tip the nuts-vendor a quick salute as he nestled a fresh bag in his hand like a hamster. Heat steamed from the opening, wafting through frosty air. “Oh yes brother,” Loki drawled with equal gravitas. “The nuts will not eat themselves.” Thor squinted as a restrained smirk danced at Loki’s dimples. “Indeed,” the blonde replied, clearing his throat. “I shall see you at the bandstand anon.” And with a curt nod to you, he waddled hands in his pockets through the throng. You watched him go as Loki’s warm breath seeped down your neck, his mouth fastening to your pulse-point with a happy hum of pleasure. “You’re naughty,” you chided playfully. Loki nodded against your neck, the vibration of his agreement making you fizz. “And I have the knitwear to prove it,” he whispered. As you made your way through the crowd, Loki’s hand never left yours.

The two of you together were a familiar sight in Manhattan, and Avenger-fans on the whole had been beside themselves at news of your reunion. Confirmations had been slow. At you and Loki’s insistence, there had been no official statement. But the public had cottoned on eventually, with the help of the press.

Fans waited politely for pictures, nervously pulling at gloves and activating their cameras while you and Loki smiled and chatted. It was night and day from the way things used to be, while you stood on the sidelines amid a sea of bodies whipped into a frenzy by the god of mischief’s theatrical adulation.

Every so often, Loki would nuzzle your cheek; checking in. You’d squeeze his hand. One for all good, two for let’s go. You didn’t need that second squeeze today.

“With regret, we must depart for the afternoon’s questionable entertainment,” Loki announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, but he patted down the air.

“Please, join us-” he smiled to the crowd gathered around you, extending an arm towards the bandstand not thirty meters away. “Your participation will be most appreciated to drown out the subpar efforts of all of us. Truly, you will never look at us the same way, I guarantee it.” Despite having been erected overnight, the bandstand in the centre of the wonderland wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian England. Thin wrought iron pillars stretched upwards, twisting to an ornate canopy adorned with Christmas lights. Garlands wound up the pillars, twinkling sporadically. It was only 3pm, but the gathering darkness made them shine. A modest band of brass and strings had gathered beneath the canopy, instrument tune-ups peppering the chilly air.

And in front of it, in a semi-circle, microphones.

Steve stood to the side, handing booklets to a line of anxious looking avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Natas-

“I cannot believe we have to do this,” Bucky muttered ruefully as he threw his coat in the assigned box. “I can’t believe it. I actually can’t? Someone, fight me. Knock me out.” “We’re all in the same boat, Buck” Natasha lamented. She pulled at the baggy jumper hanging around her hips. Bucky looked down at his chest, pleading eyes meeting her stoic stare. “Fight me, Romanoff. Please.” “Don’t tempt me,” Natasha replied. Their jumpers were matching. Red, thick wool hiding any hint of the lithe muscle beneath. And stitched on them in winding, white-knitted lettering? Nice.

Your chest shook with the effort of holding in giggles. Even knowing what was coming, it hadn’t prepared you for the reality.

Looking around, you clocked each of your teammates in turn. Stark’s logic was thus – Avengers with a ‘harder’ reputation? Nice jumpers. And for those reputed to be on the softer side?-

“You’re wearing the wrong gosh-darn sweater, Laufeyson!” Steve hissed over your shoulder.

Both of you spun to face him. Steve’s arms were folded over the green version of the standard knit, the word Naughty emblazoned on his chest in white bobbling letters. Your shoulders were shaking now, too. “Don’t act like you're surprised, Rogers” Loki drawled. His coat hung off one long finger, before disappearing in a flash of seidr. “The public will not be fooled by Stark’s futile attempt at psychological subterfuge. I am simply getting ahead of the inevitable Tumblr edits.”

Steve’s chin snapped towards you. “Did you know about this?” he piped, flustered. You raised your eyebrows guiltily, making Steve’s hands fly in the air. “Perfect. Just heckin’ perfect. Why I outta-” “What seems to be the problem?” Thor’s voice boomed from behind. The words were accompanied by crunching, flecks of almond littering his green jumper like snow. You and Loki parted, making a four-square shoulder to shoulder and shuffling further towards safety from prying ears. “Laufeyson’s taken it upon himself to go against the agreed sweater-allocation and wear a Naughty, that’s what-” Steve bubbled bitterly.

Crimson had begun to creep up his cheekbones. A vein in his neck throbbed. Thor threw his head back with an almighty roar of laughter. Several almonds bounced from the bag in his hand from the force.

“Come now, Rogers ” he managed through gasps of mirth. “What did you expect? Tis just a silly rule, who cares?” He tossed an almond in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It ricocheted off his eye. As Thor began blinking, Steve raised the clipboard in his hand. He tapped it violently. “I’m in charge of project managing this,” he hissed. “Laufeyson – change back to Nice.”

“Shan’t.” Loki quipped. Steve flushed deeper. “Laufeyson,” he warned. “Actually,” Loki started, enjoying the hushed tension. “I think you’ll find I am rather nice. You saw to that. So in truth, my sweater is fitting for this farce.” Steve’s eye began to twitch.

There was silence.

“Look at us, we’re like a little team," you offered, pointing to each of your green jumpers in turn. “Like the old days.”

Thor chuckled agreement as Loki and Steve stared each other down, a smile playing on Loki’s mouth that was irrevocably absent from the Captain’s. All four of you, it seemed, wore the Naughty uniform today. “In your case, as in mine, our knitwear reflects our essence perfectly my darling” Loki purred to you while his eyes narrowed towards a now vibrating super-soldier. “My naughty...naughty girl.” Steve sighed, hanging his head in resignation. “I told Tony this was a pooper of an idea,” he lamented. “It’s a disaster and it’s not even started.”

Thor’s hand clapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, lingering in a squeeze. Steve looked up at him, their eyes meeting.

The blonde god’s gaze widened slightly. You saw his fingers clench as his hand froze. In moments, he raised it; fluffing back his hair before sliding the hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“It’s only one sweater, Rogers” he muttered nervously. “Who cares?” Steve’s face fell, eyes darting to Thor’s crotch with a frown before rising back to his face. “I expected better of you, Odinson” was all he said before turning away.

Loki let out an exasperated sigh, elbowing his brother in the ribs. But Thor didn’t even flinch. His features had crumpled, spinning slowly as he watched the captain leave. His nuts? Forgotten.

But Steve didn’t see it. He was already making his way to the cluster of anxious looking Avengers huddled by the bandstand, examining carol music like they were Hydra files. “That could have gone better,” you whispered to Loki. The god frowned. His attempt to provoke his brother into siding with Rogers had not borne fruit. “Fear not,” Loki replied mysteriously as Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his jeans pocket. He tore off a chunk with a thousand-yard stare. Loki watched him in disbelief, continuing slowly. “There is still time to salvage this operation from the wreckage of my brother’s obstinance.” You gaze flitted between your team-mates. Bucky – Nice. Natasha- Nice. Clint – Naughty. Bruce – Naughty. Wanda – Nice. Sam – Naughty. Scott – Nice. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki swipe the half-ravaged chicken drumstick from Thor’s hold with hushed reprimand.

“What’s the big man wearing, I wonder?” you asked no one in particular. Loki snorted, “what else?” he said, nudging his head towards the Santa podium. There he was, Father Christmas aka. Tony Stark. Dressed in ray-bans and custom tailored suit, he looked suspiciously trim for a man in his position.

“Ah,” you smiled.

Loki’s smokey cologne filled your nostrils as he looped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “It seems he will not be joining us in this public embarrassment,” he smirked before placing a warming kiss on your lips. Then to the corner of your mouth, then to the angle of your jaw. “Places!” a peaky-sounding Steve shouted, tapping a baton against the music stand at the head of the choir section. There was a deep line between his eyebrows that was decidedly un-Christmassy. “Norns,” Loki muttered. His hands slid down your body, fingers weaving through yours. “Ready?” he breathed nervously, your foreheads touching.

“Are you?” you replied.

Loki squeezed once.

The front row of the audience was made up of children, patients of the hospital. Cushioned folding chairs were laid in a half-crescent, two dozen of their smiling faces staring expectantly. Several of them sat in wheelchairs in the middle. Prime spot. One of them was wearing a pin-badge with Loki’s face on it. A young connoisseur, you thought with a smile.

Behind them, the growing crowd heaved. Sparkling Stark-Industries antlers filled your field of vision, handed out at the gates. There was a static hum, hundred of conversations and jokes and countless eyes inspecting each of you with anticipation. You could feel their excitement fizzing in the air while Bucky fidgeted beside you. Thinking about his solo you had no doubt. You rubbed his back sympathetically. He offered a weak smile of thanks. Steve tapped the pedestal again. “Avengers,” he announced with authority. The hushed whispers and small waves of the team to the crowd came to a halt. “One..two..” he mouthed the three.

All of a sudden, the air came alive with the sound of ten voices, stronger and louder and more melodic than you had expected. Unbelievably, it sounded...good. Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The brass quintet upon the bandstand soared. Even in practice, it hadn’t been this good. A Christmas miracle, you thought as you belted out the words in some semblance of tune.

Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcile, Your gaze flickered to the other side of the semi-circle, catching Loki’s.

He held his carol-sheet diligently at arms-length, not looking at it. But rather, at you.

He winked.

Steve had rightly separated you. The chances of him squeezing your ass in front of the sick children was just too high. What if one of them goes into shock, Steve had said. But in truth, it was the deep, soulful magnetism of Loki’s singing voice that posed the real risk. If you were standing beside him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain yourself. You winked back. Beside Loki, Thor craned towards the paper his brother held.

Thor had memorised every carol. Every modern classic. Everything in the repertoire. You knew that for a fact.

For the last two weeks, ever since your conversation in the common room – you’d been able to hear him before you could see him. And not in the usual way. You’d become accustomed to hearing his theatrical rendition of Silent Night bouncing its ironic way around the tile of the gym, the hallways, seeping through floors. And what he lacked in vocal melody, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

No - in truth, as the God of Thunder stared at the music sheet, he was avoiding Steve’s appraising stare which darted to each of them in turn. Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies,

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend, you focused back on the conductor. The crimson flush of his ears had ebbed. He was beginning to smile. Well, a little.

Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The carol continued. And then the next, and the next. Collection buckets that were being passed amongst the crowd began to overflow, the spectators indulging in a mix of swaying, singing, dancing.

With every song that passed, Bucky became more nervous, his voice a little higher.

You only faltered once during Winter Wonderland when you made the mistake of looking at Loki again. At some point, he had raked his hair back. Pink peaked at his cheekbones, his hip slouched casually, tapping his foot in time. One side of his sweater was concealed in the waistband of his dark chinos. A french-tuck, if you weren’t mistaken. It highlighted the sluttish creases that strained at his crotch.

Dark curls fell around the green knit, half-lidded eyes following each word as he sang it. You would fuck that sweater right off him later. Or maybe, he could keep it on...you mused. His smooth baritone slid over the words like a sled in morning’s first snow, to face unafraid, the plans that we made, walking in a- He looked up with a knowing side-smile in your direction. A sharp elbow in the ribs from Wanda made you realised you had lost your train of thought. Your mouth was open, but no words were coming out. “-winter wonderlaaaand,” you squawked out of time.

Steve’s eyes snapped to you, brow arched. He couldn’t complain, not really. Considering how well it was going. A brief erotically-charged moment of disassociation was the least he could expect, surely. As the song drew to a close with a flourish of conductor Rogers’ arms, the crowd burst into applause. With every passing number, it had become louder. You weren’t sure if there were more people, or if the mulled wine had been refilled. Steve spun to face the audience, growing darkness making the warm glow from fairylights create a halo around his blonde hair.

“And now...a very special treat,” he announced mysteriously to the expectant crowd. “Something very, very special indeed. I’ve heard it in rehearsal and golly, he’s just spiff.” Bucky’s feet began scuffing on the ground. He’s going to do a runner, you thought. But thankfully for Bucky, he had nothing to worry about.

The plan was for Barnes to perform a rousing rendition of Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Olivia Holt. Or Michael Buble, depending on the demographic. Backed up by the jingling ooo’s and aaa’s of the team of course. But despite Barnes initial enthusiasm, the thought of it had filled him with more horror each passing day.

Steve had been very excited about the whole affair. A grand finale for his orchestral debut, such as it was. And Bucky hadn’t the heart to tell him. “Buck?” you muttered out the corner of your mouth. You glanced at him, trying to be covert. He was sweating, staring blankly ahead. “Buck?” “Yuh.” Barnes mustered quietly as Steve began to move a microphone between the sick kids. Their little voices made your heart flutter. But you had a job to do. The weight of Loki’s concentration radiated from across the space between you. He was watching you and Bucky, completely still aside from one twitching finger and the small smile flickering at his dimples. You cleared your throat, leaning to the side towards the soldier. “In a few seconds you might feel a bit funny-” “I already feel a bit funny doll,” he murmured bitterly. “Yeah but...well, you’ll see. Just don’t freak out.” “Freak-what-now?” “Out-” “-Yah I got that-” he snapped, trying to turn towards you and failing. He tried to twist, but his shoulders wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” “Buck?” you repeated slowly. He met your eyes, the first shadows of fear creeping in. “When Steve calls you up, just shake your head. You have a little bit of movement in your neck. And you can talk a little. Just a little so I can check you’re okay. Okay?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in a grimacing caricature. You decided to assume that meant it was totally cool. “Who are hoo hurkin’ hor!?” he hissed in a wreckage of lisping syllables. His shoulders shook ever so slightly back and forth like a wound-up nutcracker as he tried and failed to move his feet. “Oh, no-” you said, realising he thought you’d been turned. “No, it’s just Loki’s magic. Don’t worry.” Bucky’s eyes widened.

‘Please welcome-’

“You’re off the hook with the song?” you chirped quietly, hoping it had the intended effect. Barnes stopped struggling. ‘-my friend, James Buchanan Barnes!’ A round of deafening applause snapped you from your bubble. Steve stood back at his podium, baton poised and ready for the band to begin.

Alongside the other Avengers, except Bucky, you bent down and picked up a sleigh bell carefully placed at your feet. You could beat someone to death with this thing, you thought as the chrome bells jingled beneath your hand. Wanda shot you a knowing glance, holding in a laugh.

The applause ebbed as James Buchanan Barnes remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted side to side across the waiting crowd. He shook his head very, very slowly. Showtime, you thought. “I’m afraid he has a bit of stage-fright,” you explained loudly. Collective disappointment hummed in the air. Steve’s face flushed an immediate shade of fuchsia, features hardening. You could see the cogs in his brain turn, a victorious glittering finale slipping from his grasp. His lips puckered, sucking in his cheeks. “I’m sure with a little...encouragement,” Steve said with a grimacing smile, raising his arms. The crowd roared back to life.

Bucky shook his head, a bit faster this time. Rogers head lowered, the breath from his sigh of exasperation clouding around his face. “If I may...” came Loki’s calm drawl from across the line-up. It dripped with sensual showmanship, treacleish tones sending an immediate flood of desire leaking into your panties.

Men and women in the front rows grasped at each other, gawking as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. It doesn’t get any easier folks, you thought with a smile. “My brother here knows the arrangement by heart,” Loki continued. “The lyrics and suchlike- I’m sure he would be happy to relieve Barnes of his duties-”

Mutters of excitement spread through the crowd like a mexican wave. Thor immediately turned his back to the audience, muttering something at surprisingly hushed volume in his brother’s ear. Loki listened diligently, holding up a penitent finger to the crowd. Steve’s arms were folded, storm-clouds knitting his brow. The foot had begun to tap. “My brother makes the valid point that of the two of us, I am the more musically inclined-” Loki began, gracefully gripping Thor’s shoulders and spinning him back to face the audience.

He brushed his brother’s collar, removing the last of the almond crumbs which resided there. A smile you knew all too well stretched across Loki’s lips as he looked deep into Thor’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But alas,” Loki purred, “I know not the words.” And perhaps these words will heal, Loki thought.

Loki held his breath as Thor began to gingerly shuffle forwards, tugging at the hem of his Naughty- emblazoned jumper. If father could see us now, Loki mused with a shiver as his brother gripped the microphone.

The crowd was beginning to stomp in appreciation, driven into a frenzy by the turn of events. Thor gave a small wave, bashful smile growing wider as people began to whistle. Loki turned his attention to Rogers, standing stiff and poised with baton in the air. He gave it a singular flourish, counting down from three. The crowd fell silent.

Loki saw the moment that Steve and Thor’s eyes met. It seemed to make every fairy bulb glow a little brighter in the darkness, sparks of hope spreading like embers from a fire, fluttering upwards in a night sky. Please brother, Loki pleaded silently as he raised his sleigh bell. Don’t arse this up. He suddenly wondered if Thor had felt this way during their time at the cottage. Loki supposed that he had. The brass band sprang to life, drums making an entrance. (Christmaaaas) Loki sang suddenly with the others. Nine voices harmonised as one.

Thor panicked, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “Snow is...coming down...uh-oof-” he spluttered, the cable tangling around his shoe. (Christmaaaaas) they sang, cringing slightly.

One line in, and Loki had almost lost all hope. “I'm watching it faaaaall” Thor crooned in bass – a little more tunefully. (Christmaaaas) “Lots of...very lovely and festive, yes – you...people aro-hounnnd,” (Christmaaaas) Loki sang, a smile beginning to spread as his brother came alive. He was pointing at the children, giggles and squeals peppering the air. The sleigh bell beat against his palm in time with his brother’s voice. “Baby, please come ho-hommmme,” Thor sang. Loki looked up, catching a look on your face that he hadn’t seen before. There was something different in that look. Some deeper variable of your smile that ignited his heart. But there would be time for overthinking it later, he surmised as his brother launched into the chorus with a glottal barrage of enthusiasm. For now, he had a love to nurture.

As Loki released his practised backing harmonies with the rest of the team, his brother got into his stride. ‘Owned the stage,’ Loki believed was the term. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Thor for the whole number. And if Loki didn’t know better, which of course – he did, he would swear that the captain was blushing.

(Please) they sang, sleigh bells jangling in time. “Pleaseee” echoed his brother. (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please Baby, please come hommmme-” You were surprised the operatic efforts of Loki’s brother didn’t make the ground shake.

The crowd were beside themselves, singing and jiving and waving their hands in the air. Thor worked the big crescendo, falling to his knees on the ground. His thighs spread, and whether it was his intention or not, you saw Steve grip the podium as his sensibilities buckled. Just a bit. The captain’s lips rolled together, stifling what you were sure was a bite. Thank god Thor wore the tight jeans today, you mused as you held the final note. With a swiping flourish of the conductor’s baton, the song was over. The cheers were deafening.

Thor stood and gave a small bow, sudden bashfulness descending. He waved, backing off to the side. His eyes met Steve’s, giving him an understated nod. The captain returned it slowly, a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. You watched him mouth two words, thank you, before Thor collided into Loki.

There was only one more song to go. You watched as Loki patted his brother’s shoulder across the semi-circle, pulling him into a hug. His face was alight with pride. It melted your heart. Despite the passing of the months, you couldn’t get over how different his smiles were now. Open. Genuine. Real. He’s finally opened his heart.

Have you? The thought came intrusively. Fairy lights shone all around as Loki tussled his brother’s hair. Thor couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Steve, you noticed. One more song. Rogers tapped the podium for the final time, raising the baton. The mellow sound of the saxophone twisted in the air, followed by strings.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know” you sang. Loki’s eyes met yours, sparkling with the glitter of mischief well done. “Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow,”

Bucky’s voice began to grow louder beside you. Released from his bodily prison at last. On cue, the Avengers began to peel away from the semi-circle, mingling with the crowd. Of course, any production orchestrated by Steve Rogers would end in a collective heart-melting communal singalong. Nothing else would do.

You watched as Wanda cosied up to a older man holding a mulled wine. He offered it to her immediately, stunned as he mouthed the words to White Christmas. She took it.

For your part, you made a beeline for the children sitting at the front of the audience, joining them in their sway. This whole thing was for them, after all. Loki’s shadow crept behind you, falling over the little girl with his face emblazoned on the pin badge.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write” Loki purred melodically as he lowered to his haunches. He paused, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. You watched her face, transfixed in joy as all her daydreams came true. The God of Mischief in person, his shadowed blue eyes looking into hers as though she was the only person in the world. That never gets old, either, you thought. He took her hand, pressing her tiny palm against his own. “May your days,” he sang with the crowd as his fingertips glowed green, “be merry and bright-” You couldn’t tear yourself from the look of absolute sincerity on his face. The utter determination painted on softened features to give this sweet girl a memory that would last for the rest of her life – however long that was.

Tears began to prick your eyes, seeing the crane of her neck upwards as her mouth fell open in wonder to the sky. Loki smiled. The green shimmer of his palm pressed to hers grew stronger. A glow flashed across the inky night, a billowing flourish of northern lights erupting over central Manhattan seeped in emerald and pinkish hues. They twisted in waves, swirling like a cloak which moved and rolled. It was alive. Loki's voice was quieter now, but no less beautiful as he sang. “And may all your Christmases, be-” “white,” the little girl gasped as snow began to fall. He did that, you thought in wonder as the crowd began to cheer, hugging each other. All sets of eyes were turned upwards to the sky. All but yours. They stayed fixed on Loki as the band played on amidst a flutter of newly swirling snowflakes. The man I love.

“The tie, brother-” Thor muttered nervously, “is it..?” “It is well done, brother” Loki replied.

He dusted the lapel of Thor’s crushed velvet suit jacket a final time, a deep red the shade of fine merlot. The blonde released a trembling sigh, pulling at his fingers.

It was Christmas Eve. “Did you take the pharmaceuticals as instructed?” Loki enquired quietly as the elevator bounced to a halt. Thor nodded, patting his breast pocket. “The Tums? Yes. I have some on my person should the gaseous beast rear in my belly.” Loki nodded, satisfied. All the bases were covered. He had done all he could do. Now, it was up to Thor. Well, almost. It had been Loki’s idea for the brothers to dress together for the party tonight. And although his initial plan was to ensure that Thor was in peak condition for this eve of great import, Loki would admit that he had enjoyed it. Very much.

He wore a suit matching his brother’s in all but one detail. Loki’s was a crushed velvet of richest emerald green. Thin silk ties of gold adorned them both, fastened tight to the white shirts beneath with a pin bearing their respective emblems. Loki’s gift to his brother. The Asgardian Princes were showing up, tonight. Loki had made sure of it. Mother would be proud, he smiled as the elevator doors opened. Thor’s Yuletide offering to him had been a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory, but Loki paid it no mind. Gifts had never been his brother's strong-suit.

The rest of the team was already gathered by the Christmas tree, festive beverages in hand. A rolling cheer of greeting sounded as the duo strode towards the scene. Loki grabbed two glasses from the bar, passing one to his brother who necked it immediately. The dark god swirled his finger, refilling it. Loki felt his brows rise as he saw you, standing with one finger curled over your lip and an entirely too sensual smirk on your beautiful face. Beneath the perfectly cut trousers of his suit, Loki’s cock twitched. “You look handsome,” you coaxed quietly as he slid an arm around your waist, releasing a breath he’d been holding as a charged grunt of need.

“If we had gotten ready for tonight together,” Loki growled hot in your ear, “I fear that dress would never have been seen by another intact.” He pressed himself to you with a lingering kiss, an appreciative thrust of his hips rubbing against your own. He sighed into your open mouth, feeling your fingers dig into his shoulders. “God,” Natasha muttered with playful scorn under her breath, shuffling over to give you both space. “Can’t take them anywhere,” she murmured to Sam. Sam grunted in agreement.

“Presents!” Tony cried, clapping his hands together. “Party starts at eight, tick tock. Cutting it fine thanks to Paris and Nicole here.” He nodded in Loki and Thor’s direction. Steve checked his watch. “One cannot rush perfection, Stark” Loki smirked, releasing you. He watched as Rogers turned and adjusted a decoration on the tree. A plush rabbit wearing a santa hat. He was nervous. Tony knelt down, reading each gift tag and throwing it to the corresponding team-member. An oblong package whizzed past Loki's face, hitting his brother square in the mouth. 'Ooft,' Thor grunted as mulled wine slopped over the side of the glass. He stumbled, catching the present. Loki sighed, flexing his fingers and removing the stain from the front of his sibling’s suit. His brother nestled the empty glass dangerously within the tree branches to his side, inspecting the package. “Tis soft,” he muttered seriously. Across the circle, Loki saw Steve’s anxious gaze darting upwards at his brother in intervals. He noted you offer the captain a comforting nod while Thor tore at immaculate wrapping, ripping off the red ribbon and casting it aside. “Odin’s beard…” Thor gasped as the final sliver of paper fell away.

The team fell silent, looking up from their various body massagers and associated tat. He raised the item in his hands like Simba, slack-jawed in awe. The amazed god stared at it, eyes glossy.

Bruce frowned towards the blonde, peering over his glasses with an oversized posing pouch dangling from one finger. “Is that-?” “-A chicken drumstick?” Nat gawked. “Tis’ soft…!” Thor breathed in wonder, twirling it in his hands. He clutched it to his chest, eyes darting around the group. “A thousand thanks upon whomever bestowed this plush poultry treasure upon me,” he murmured, unable to resist holding the cushion proudly at arms length.

“Truly whomever be my secretive santa knows me to my core-” he continued dreamily, looking to each avenger in turn. They all looked befuddled. All except one. Thor’s brow creased, doing a double take as Steve’s cheeks plunged to new depths of crimson. “Rogers?” the blonde god whispered, so low only Loki could hear it. “Open yours Steve!” someone probed. Captain America still held his own package in his hands, toying with it gently.

Loki maintained his stoic expression, tossing his newly acquired bottle of luxury dry shampoo between his hands as he noted horror descend on his brother’s face. Never fear, brother; he thought smugly. Thor thought that Steve was about to open a small box containing yet another gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. But Thor was mistaken. Firstly, America’s saviour was lactose intolerant. Any internet search would have told him that. But despite his brother’s poverty of imagination where presents were concerned, his heart was in the right place. And for the cunning plan his love and he had concocted, there was only one gift which could bring the two men comfort and joy this Christmas. The truth. “Wait, wait-” Thor yelped as he took several panicked strides across the room. He knelt down to Steve’s level, placing his hands over the box that Steve had only just revealed through the wrapping. “It’s not-” Steve looked up, meeting the god’s panicked stare with practised indifference.

“Let me open it, will ya?” he said calmly. Thor sank back, head bowed as he waited for the axe to fall. With every careful unlatching of sellotape, Loki saw his brother’s heart sink a little more into his stomach. “Good gravy, what’s this? A pocket-square?” Thor looked up, regret turning to confusion as he clocked the handkerchief dangling between Rogers slender fingers. It was familiar, heavy with otherworldly silk and trimmed in thread ground from the most precious jewels of nine realms. On one side, deepest burgundy melting to crimson. But on the other, a rich navy which faded to shimmering azure.

Red and blue, not red and green.

The two colours met in the middle, threads glittering and overlapping like foam on the shore. They seemed to move. To change and ebb in the light like a living thing. And stitched across the handkerchief in the finest gold,

En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet. “Jeepers,” Steve muttered as he pulled the silk appraisingly through his fingers. “Someone definitely went over the twenty dollar limit.” Thor twisted his head incredulously towards his brother. Loki narrowed his eyes briefly in response, coupled with a small nod. The blonde god cleared his throat, finally catching up to the scenario unfolding before him. “A truth for a truth,” Thor breathed quietly, looking to the floor.

Steve’s concentration broke, as if suddenly seeing the person kneeling beside him on the floor for the first time. “P-pardon?” he stuttered. There was a sudden wave of green hued light through the room, reminiscent of the northern lights which lit up last night’s sky at the jamboree. “My apologies, Rogers…” Loki purred, stepping forwards. “I feel it best to inform you that the others cannot see nor hear us at this moment. As far as they are aware, you are both by the bar.” Loki nodded to where a slightly glitchy duo of duplicates stood behind Tony’s counter, clinking glasses of tequila. “Just myself, and she-” he nodded to you, “are witness.” “W-witness?” Steve spluttered, trying to stand and finding his knees starting to buckle. He looked at Thor, eyes wide. But all he found was softness. “Say the words, Rogers” Thor urged gently, gesturing to the handkerchief. Steve frowned, as the blonde god pulled the silk from his grip.

“A truth for...what was it? Truth for a truth?” Rogers asked, confused gaze darting between the men and you.

Loki clapped his hands together quietly. “Wonderful. You are now bound to the Accords of the Kerchief.” Steve frowned deeper. “Accords of the what-now?” “Kerchief,” Loki repeated formally, nodding towards the silk in Thor’s hand.

“You have both held it while the other spoke the words. And now, you must exchange the truth which causes the conflict between you – so that it may be resolved.” “And what if I don’t wanna?” Rogers sniffed, ears burning. He avoided Thor’s eyes. Loki released a whittling hum of discontent. “Unfortunately, failure to comply with the Accord of the Kerchief once initiated means instant smiting at the hands of Heimdall.” “Smiting?! You can’t be serious,” Steve scoffed with gusto. “Oh yes,” Loki nodded very seriously. Thor was nodding too. Also very seriously. “The penalties are most grave, Rogers.” “You tricked me,” Steve hissed to the blonde opposite him.

“Technically I tricked you,” Loki smirked apologetically. Rogers eyes narrowed in his direction, his lip trembling with what looked suspiciously like a swear. “Laufeyson,” he warned. Loki extended his forefinger, waggling it slowly side-to-side. “It will do not a jot of good, Rogers. You can thank my mother for this one. Now -” he gestured expectantly between the men. Thor took a deep breath. “Rogers-Ihavefeelingsforyouwhichcannotbeexplainedin,mere...Norns-” “Slow down, Thor-” you cooed gently.

Loki felt your hand slide into his. The nerves roaring in his belly soothed as your fingers interlinked. Despite maintaining an exterior of calm, he was terrified.

“Rogers,” Thor began again. Steve stared at him, transfixed. The aura of suspicion which surrounded him was fading, his stiff spine slackening as he looked at the god. Really looked at him. Saw him.

“I have feelings for you, which run deep to the heart of me. Which I cannot deny any longer. And if you feel that you cannot return my interest, then I shall understand. But I cannot spend another night unable to sleep, thinking that you believe me to hate you. And I apologise for my boorish behaviour these past months.” There was a pause as the god took a breath before continuing. “It was self preservation, you see-” Thor rumbled quietly, before sighing.

Steve looked down, still except for his fingers fidgeting with the wrapping paper in his lap. “That was well done, brother” Loki soothed. Thor shot him a sad smile. “I-” Rogers started.

The three of you held your breath. He looked up, just at the moment Thor curled a blonde tendril behind his ear. “I-” Steve choked, shifting on his knees. “It’s okay Steve,” you coaxed from the side-lines. It was the final nudge he needed. “I feel the same,” was all Steve said. He looked up, meeting Thor’s widening eyes. “Truly?” Steve nodded shyly. “I got myself in a tizz, about a whole bunch of things which weren’t really to do with you. Or….us. Not really,” he stammered. "It wasn't a mistake. And I was a dummy to say so." Loki felt your fingernails dig into his palm, both of you craning forwards as the captain continued. His voice was serious, a slight waver just audible between the words. “For a while, I thought you thought I was just some kinda tart. Some kind of loose Jack. Well lemme tell you Odinson, Steve Rogers is no one’s tart.” “You were never my tart, Rogers,” Thor uttered with gravitas, gently cupping Steve’s jaw. The captain’s eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into his hold. In seconds, the space between them closed. Rogers arms wrapped around Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s hands sliding around the captain’s waist. They fit together like a glove, Steve’s fingers winding in the god’s hair like a spindle through spun gold. Low mutterings of apologies cascaded from their lips between kisses, small gasps and sighs as unpleasantness of past months were forgotten. “What the fuck?” Tony spluttered. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed on the God of Thunder and Captain America’s passionate embrace. Hel, Loki thought with a shock. In all the excitement, he had neglected to hold the spell which shielded them. The kiss ceased, but still their arms were wound around each other. “Sheesh,” Wanda laughed, grabbing a bottle of the good stuff on her way past the bar. “It’s about time.” A murmur of agreement rolled around the room, a chorus of whoops sounding as each teammate stooped to offer a clap on the back to the newly outed couple. And for the first time in living memory, the colour of Thor’s cheeks rivalled his lover’s. “Maybe you guys won’t be the public embarrassment at parties anymore,” Nat quipped as she passed, tapping Loki and you lightly on the ass. Your laughter lit up Loki’s heart. And there was that look in your eye again, the one he couldn’t place yesterday.

‘We did it,’ you mouthed silently to him. Loki winked in response, just as the clock chimed eight. With a spring in his step, Loki made his way to the men kneeling awkwardly on the floor, noting their interlinked fingers with a wave of pride. He offered both hands, and each was taken. He heaved, pulling the men to stand and immediately into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, brother” he whispered in Thor’s ear. “Do you need the handkerchief back?” Thor muttered through a smile. “I am assuming the revised colours were only temporary.” Loki chuckled, pulling him and Rogers tighter. The captain released a strangled ooft as the air was pressed from his lungs.

“I think not that we need such a trinket to ensure our bond. Not anymore. Do you, brother?” Loki murmured into his sibling’s hair.

From deep within the embrace, in a hold which seemed to melt the centuries, Loki felt his brother shake his head.

The party was a roaring success. And in the early hours of Christmas Day, you and Loki stumbled back to your apartment upstairs.

It was tiredness, mostly – and happiness. Strands of tinsel poked from Loki’s curls. You pulled one out with a giggle before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. “Finally,” he growled longingly as one slim finger toyed with the strap of your dress. Making quick work of pushing the velvet suit jacket from his shoulders, your fingers were halfway down his shirt buttons before you suddenly remembered- “-your present!” you cried, making Loki flinch back from where he had been buried in your neck.

“Can’t it wait?” he whined with feigned impatience. You waved an excited hand, scurrying to the cupboard. “No.” you shouted, head popping out behind the cupboard door. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.” Loki sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his beautiful face. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” he huffed as you ran and sat cross-legged on the bed.

You bounced on your knees while he swaggered over, undoing the last of his buttons with a knowing grin as he enjoyed the roam of your hungry stare across his skin. His carved abdomen flirted into view, obliques visible with each stride as the thick cotton folded to his movements. Loki sat on the bed, legs spread at the edge. His thighs creased the material in a way that made your mouth water.

He picked up the box, inspecting it before throwing you a lingering smoulder. “Mischievous elf,” he purred. “It’s just a small thing” you bargained, biting your lip as the first side of paper was torn. “I stole it, actually.” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Open it!” you said, chewing on your thumbnail as you watched his eyes drop to the package. Suddenly the god’s face changed.

Playfulness melted to a frown, his smirk fading. He swallowed thickly, staring down at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “-with the yellow bear,” he said quietly. “and the eyepatch!” you beamed. “I took it from the cottage. I noticed you always used it, I thought you might like the-”

Before you could finish, Loki’s hand had cupped the back of your head and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He bore down on you, the passion of his adoration sinking through the air and deep into your soul. Every circle of his tongue against yours, every caress of his breath as he repositioned his mouth over your own. He broke, panting. “Darling,” was all he could muster in thanks as he looked down at the ceramic with adoring eyes. You couldn’t stop smiling. His gaze snapped up, a click of his fingers making a perfectly wrapped present appear beside you on the bed. Golden paper shimmered before becoming whole. It was flat, and light. “No presents, huh?” you goaded sweetly. Loki smiled. “Open it,” he echoed. You complied. And inside the paper was a perfectly folded nightdress, adorned with autumnal leaves. The very same one. You hugged it to your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “I knew it was the one thing in that room you would miss,” he rumbled apologetically.

You reached for his hand, thumb running over the veins taut and thick on the back. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping alone,” you whispered with a smile. Loki placed his mug on the side table, before reaching for the nightdress and placing it beside. “God forbid,” he growled. Loki pulled another errant strand of tinsel from his hair, making it vanish. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered you back on the mattress, the pad of one fingertip tracing down your cheekbone. Memorising it.

The way he was looking at you, the silence that hung where words should be. You knew which words they were. He was holding back, even now as he inhaled against your pulse-point. Holding back for you. As dark curls blanketed your vision, you thought of the excitement in his voice as the cunning plan was formed. Of the way his fists clenched as he silently cheered his brother on, how his face fell when he thought that it was all for naught. How his eyes had swum with joy as it all came together. Not for himself, but for them. And you thought of the smile on that little girl’s face, joyful in the midst of Christmas lights and magic that shouldn't be possible. But for her, and for you - with him...it was. Yes, you’d thought about that a lot. “I love you, Loki” you whispered slowly in his ear.

Loki’s kisses against your neck faltered. You heard a sigh rack his chest, breath hitching as his heart-beart quickened on top of your own. “Truly?” he murmured in response.

It was cautious, wary. His eyes came into view, concern clouding them. You slid a hand up his jaw, kissing him gently. “I love you,” you repeated solemnly. He pressed his forehead to yours, a choke of relieved laughter accompanying a long inhale of breath. “Gods,” he whispered on the exhale, “what have I done to deserve you?” “Everything,” you replied quietly. It was a truth.

He kissed you as though he was trying to absorb each atom of your breath, capture each flutter of the three words he’d longed to hear. As though they might vanish if he did not mark the moment with the seal of his touch. But they wouldn’t. You knew that now. How could they? “I love you,” he whispered back. And you believed him.

A/N: Thank you again so so so much for coming on this journey with me and the gang. I'm so happy with how this ended, even though the expansion was a bit unexpected(!) and I really hope you are too! Although the 'main' story is chapters 1-7, it felt like there was more to explore. Please let me know what you thought, any insights or additional HCs you have - they are always welcome ❤️ Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland

#the lakes #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki fluff #loki odinson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki x yn #loki x you #loki gif #loki series

[yexthiccxa]

The Angel With Horns Pt. 1

summary: you accept a teaching position at jujutsu high where you get to work with your childhood crush, suguru geto. unfortunately, that means you'll also have to work with your childhood nemesis, satoru gojo. are you going to rekindle new flames or potentially make new ones?

wordcount: 7.3k 🙃 (this is pt. 1 and it's four chapters long)

c/w: gojo/fem!reader, geto/fem!reader, gojo/oc, geto/oc, modern!au, teacher!au, smut, fluff & smut, some plot, plot what plot, flashbacks, timeskip, asshole!gojo, flirty!gojo, cocky!gojo, soft!geto, cousin!shoko, mutual pining, teasing, flirting, playful banter, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, sensual tension, sexual tension, pet names (angel), dry humping, fingering, oral, fantasizing, multiple orgasms, inappropriate use of cursed energy, inappropriate use of cursed techniques

a/n: eeeep. this is my first fanfic so feedback is welcome 🥺it’s a first person pov where the unnamed oc is meant to be the reader! Currently working on Part 2!

edit: just posted this part on ao3 if you'd rather read it there!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

Chapter 1: Reunited

It’s clear as day but my mind is fuzzy. There are thousands of thoughts surging through me, but all I can focus on is the pleasure filling my body. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve always wondered if this day would ever come. My hips are pinned against his counter. Arms stretching wide while my fingers grip his sink. My neck rolls back as the rays of light blind me from his window. 

In my head, I’ve spent countless hours wondering how it feels to have his body pressed against mine. Or how his breath hovers on my neck as he pulls me closer. His scent is undeniably sweet, but the way he handles me tells me that he’s everything but that.

“I always thought you were a good girl,” he growls in my ear, kissing his way down to my neck like it was never his to claim. “I never expected you to prove me wrong.”

I imagined how his kisses would consume me, how his touch would paralyze me, and how his moans would ignite me. But in all these years, I never imagined this entire fantasy would be with someone else instead.

✦✧✸✧✦

TWO WEEKS AGO

The clouds begin to subside as I walk through the familiar gates of Jujutsu High. The droplets of rain fade away and a strange mix of emotions hit my core. Today marks the beginning of my journey as a teacher here, but I can't stop myself from feeling a pang of anxiety. Amid the unease, there’s still a sense of comfort in returning to a place I once called home.

My footsteps echo softly on the hallway tiles as I make my way to room 3-A for orientation. The memories of my time as a student creep into my thoughts. It’s changed in many ways, but I find solace in knowing that there are still a few people here that I can lean on.

When I moved back to Tokyo and got the teaching position, Shoko mentioned that Suguru taught here as well. Memories of him invaded my thoughts. We were practically inseparable during our high school years, largely due to my close bond with Shoko. Wherever she was, I was sure to follow—our Ieiri blood may tell us we’re cousins, but I always thought of her as my sister. Her friends were always fun to be around. However, they constantly got into situations that always put me on edge. Shoko has always been such a free spirit, and while I adore her, I know her comfort zone far surpasses my own. Despite my lack of participation in their wild adventures, I surprisingly never felt left out or lonely.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Finding curses in abandoned hospitals sounds way cooler than studying curses… in a book,” I muttered to Suguru as I gestured to my pile of textbooks.

“How many times do we have to go over this? I’d rather practice my curse techniques here instead.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and lowered his face towards mine—his breath tickling my ear.

“Plus, taking care of you is a hell of a lot better than taking care of everyone else,” he chuckled.

“Who said you needed to take care of me?” I protested. He remained close, and I felt his mouth curve.

“I never said I needed to. I want to take care of you,” he whispered. A secret for only my ears to hear.

Throughout the years, I grew to love his playful laughter. It was soft, tinged with warmth and sincerity—though it always seemed to trail his jokes that slightly missed the mark. And his touch, though never sensual, always felt protective—like a wolf looking after its pack. The more I learned how sweet Suguru was, the deeper I fell in love. For years my guarded soul harbored this secret, and even if the world was ending, I swore to myself that I would never tell a soul. The "what ifs" often danced through my thoughts, but ignorant bliss always outweighed the risk of potential heartbreak.

My thoughts come to a halt as I turn a corner, and suddenly, I'm face-to-face with a towering presence. My breath catches, and my eyes instinctively trail up the contours of his strong frame. The world around me blurs for a moment, and my heart quickens. But before I can fully process the shock, a familiar voice calls out to me.

"Hey, there’s my girl! Did you realize the world wasn’t as great without me?" Suguru teases, his voice bringing back years of memories.

"Suguru!" I exclaim, a surge of excitement makes me toss my arms around him. My words tumble out eagerly, "If I was your girl, I probably would’ve never left." I laugh, though my heart races as curiosity causes his brow to rise. “I’m just kidding. Everything was great, but I’m glad to be back though." It may not have been the best save, but it’ll work for now.

My arms tighten ever so slightly, and I’m compelled to study him. His shoulders are still broad, yet somehow, they seem larger than I remember. His hair has grown longer, though he still keeps it partially tied. The chiseled contours of his jaw feel like steel against my skin, but his arms around waist are gentle and comforting. I notice that the morning gloom has officially cleared, because his beauty is bathed in sunlight. As we break away from our hug, his dark eyes meet mine with recognition and warmth, as if our time apart has only deepened our connection.

"Well, I’m glad it was good. I’ve missed you." he rumbles, his voice resonating like a soothing melody.

"Likewise," I reply with a warm grin, feeling a rush of nostalgia. "Will you be at orientation today?"

He explains that he has to help Yaga with some setup throughout the morning. I try not to let my smile drop, but he's quick to notice. Of course he notices, it's Suguru. Before I can even process my thoughts, he adds, "I have the same lunch break as everyone else though, let's catch up then? We can meet in the courtyard."

A surge of excitement washes over me, and I nod eagerly. "Sounds perfect," I reply. Feeling a newfound sense of confidence, I continue on my way to the orientation room. 

“I’ve missed you." his voice echoes through my mind. For a moment, I can't help but wonder, was he thinking about me the whole time I was gone? Why did he call me his girl? Does that mean he had feelings for me? No—stop, that can’t be. If he had feelings for me, he would've said something, right? But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

My stomach begins to flutter as a seed of hope is planted into my heart. The slightest possibility of Suguru's interest sends me to the moon. I know I’m not the same girl I was when we last saw each other. So maybe, just maybe, this is a sign.

As I head towards the room, my steps feel lighter than they've been in a long time. For once in my life, I can finally hope for something more. I finally believe that I…my heart sinks as I reach the door. 

Blocking my path is a figure I desperately hoped to avoid—the infamous Satoru Gojo.

Chapter 2: Repulsive

Much like Suguru, Satoru’s build overpowers me. His arms rest on the edge of the doorframe and I can see the contours of his bicep peek through his shirt. I take in a sharp inhale and reluctantly step forward. Satoru will not, I repeat, not get the better of me today. I hesitate for a moment, locking my eyes with his.

He peeks out from the edge of his sunglasses, and the corners of his lips begin to curl. I watch as pieces of his platinum hair barely brush the top of his rims, while others just fall short of his eyes. It’s been years, but those striking pools of blue remain etched in my memory. Swirls of azure, navy and cobalt fill my vision, but I stop myself before my gaze begins to linger.

I attempt to slip past him but find myself with no clear escape. As I contemplate my next move, I mutter a greeting through gritted teeth, "Satoru."

His smirk grows into the devilish grin that haunted my past. "Hey there, Angel,” he purrs. “No hello? Or how have you been?" His tone takes on a playful note, laced with a hint of something else—something I can't quite decipher.

I try my best to let the moment pass, but I’ve let this go on for far too long. I’m done ignoring his comments. “You know I have a real name right?” I bite back.

“But why switch it up now? You’ve always been my little angel,” he teases mockingly. 

“And you’ve always been a pain in my ass,” I reply, my stare unwavering.

“She fights back,” his brow rises in shock. “I like this new version of you. Keep it up.” His grip on the doorframe loosens and he turns to make his way into the room. 

I let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension of my grip escape through my fingers. As I regain focus, I notice Satoru has turned back, his face mere inches from my ear. His voice is smooth, like silk across my skin as he whispers, “I can be a pain in a lot of other places, but I promise it’ll feel good.” 

My eyes widen as my pupils darken. My mouth runs dry as he chuckles his way to the edge of the room.

Memories of my high school days with Satoru flood back into my mind. His words cut through me, but in a way more akin to pleasure than pain. A mix of emotions overwhelm me, but I ultimately scowl at the sight of him. While Shoko and Suguru have helped me blossom, Satoru has always been the thorn in my side.

“Come on Suguru, are you really going to stay with her again?” Satoru asked.

“It’s okay, just go without me. I’ll go with you next time,” Suguru replies. His arm raises to scratch the back of his head.

This is the last festival of the season; there won't be another chance. “Please just go. I’ll be fi—,” I uttered.

“Well, enjoy your time with the little angel,” Satoru calls out as he continues walking away.

He makes his way out of our view, and I turn to Suguru, “Why do you even call him your best friend? He’s kind of a dick.”

Suguru laughs. “When you go through some of the stuff that we have, you’ll see that there’s a bond that goes deeper than blood. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but it’s not an excuse. Don’t worry. I can talk to him.”

I can’t stop myself from smiling with adoration.

I quickly find an empty seat in the orientation room, my mind still buzzing. The comfort and familiarity of the school are now tainted by the presence of someone I had hoped to forget. It was stupid of me to think Suguru and Satoru would drift apart after all these years. As I gather up my resolve to remain close with Suguru, I accept that their connection means my path with Satoru will cross more often than I would like.

✦✧✸✧✦

A full morning of orientation reduces my brain to mush. The anticipation builds and all I can pay attention to is the clock ticking away. Yaga drones on about teamwork, collaboration, and trust – unsurprising, considering his history mentoring Suguru and Satoru. If he survived that, I’m sure being the principal is a piece of cake.

As the clock finally strikes noon, I gather my belongings and head for the door.

“Ms. Ieiri—one moment please,” Yaga calls to me, stopping in my tracks. He assembles the group of new hires and hands each one a folded letter. “This is for the afternoon sessions. On this sheet you’ll find…”

His words trail off and I find myself glancing at the clock again, hoping that Suguru hasn’t been waiting too long. Once we’re dismissed, I rush towards the courtyard.

While my legs carry me on autopilot through the halls, I take a moment to examine the letter. The paper feels coarse, the creases are weighted with importance, yet the ink is delicately placed. The overwhelming amount of information makes it clear that I'll have to review it once lunch is over. I scan the letter to find main items scheduled for the afternoon:

1pm: Mentor Session (Room 2-C)

2pm: Lesson Planning (Room 1-B)

3pm: Team Review (Room 1-B)

Seems simple enough. I approach the stairs leading to the courtyard, when my eyes catch the small section at the end of the letter:

Mentor Assignment: …

As I hurry, I fail to notice the uneven step at the halfway mark. My foot catches the edge and suddenly, I’m airborne. I feel the letter escape my fingertips. My heart leaps into my throat and the world starts to blur.

I reach for the railing, but my grasp barely holds. In the following moments, I find myself colliding with a figure. His hold is strong, bringing me comfort. I feel his fingers slowly cup my arms—they’re soft, tender, holding me with care. 

“Easy there,” he rumbles. “I got you,” his voice is low and radiates through my core. Suguru’s eyes lock onto mine and I feel the heat beginning to smolder. “I got you.” His words bounce through my head.

“Suguru. Sorry… I—” The words are impossible to make out.

“Don’t apologize,” Suguru smiles. “I like having you in my arms.” He adds a playful wink sending butterflies through my chest.

I hold his gaze and my body melts into his. Suguru and I have been close for years, but this time, it feels altered, deeper. It feels like the intensity of our connection is seeking something beyond friendship. We’re inches from each other and I wonder if he can hear my thoughts or feel my heart beat out of my chest. Time slows as I marvel at his smile. I let my mind wander just for a moment…

Suguru lowers, barely touching his lips against mine. He starts soft, planting kisses down my neck as he caresses my cheek. His touch trails to the rest of my body and delight surges within me. It's gentle, but I crave more. He bites my lip before slowly letting his tongue make his way inside my mouth.

Passion builds within me as one hand grips my hair and the other grabs my waist. When his fingers gently graze the small of my back, I writhe with pleasure, hoping he can’t feel the squeeze between my thighs. His taste is intoxicating—sending me into a fever that I can’t seem to break. 

I close my eyes and let his mouth take me.

“I’ve been waiting for you…” he breaks away to tell me. His voice is on the brink of losing control. “...for a very long ti—”

“Hello? Are you okay?” Suguru asks. My focus immediately returns. “I’ve been waiting for you, so I was heading back inside to make sure you were doing alright.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Yaga needed to give us this letter and—oh fuck. My letter.” 

He senses my worry and swoops me up in one solid motion, but I feel too weak to stand.

I turn to see that my letter has found its way in a puddle pooling at the edge of the steps. I rush down to grab it, but it’s already too late. While I can make out certain areas, the majority of it has smeared away. I bring my gaze towards bottom in hopes of making out some of the letters:

M..nt…. ….gnment: S…..u G…o

I pause—Suguru Geto. A knot hits my stomach and I’m waiting to identify whether this feeling is anxiety or joy.

I look up from the letter expectantly. “Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I ask.

“Yeah, it is! It’s nice being paired with someone you know. It’ll be just like old times.” His words are the only confirmation I need.

✦✧✸✧✦

Although the years have passed, it feels like Suguru and I have never skipped a beat. I miss the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way a strand of hair always manages to fall even when it’s tied. I could spend hours looking into his eyes and hearing all of his adventures and how he’s mastered his curse techniques. 

The minutes go on and the end of our lunch hour approaches. Suguru frowns as he glances at his watch, and offers an apologetic smile. "I have to head out a bit early. Yaga needs some help before the mentor sessions start," he explains.

I nod understandingly, though I can't help but feel disappointed. "No problem, I’ll see you in a bit?"

He grins, those familiar eyes twinkling with warmth. "Definitely, I’ll see you later!" He gives me a hug and we part ways.

With a sway in my step, I find myself standing before the door of 2-C—but it’s locked. I scan the hallway to see if anyone can help, but there’s no one in sight. I grab my phone to text Suguru for help, but fate has other plans.

Before I can send the message, a familiar presence creeps up behind me. The weight of his aura envelops me. His body feels warm, yet somehow my blood runs cold. With a key in hand, he moves to unlock the door.

A gasp escapes my lips, and I feel the tension build around us. My heart races as I hear a voice, a soft whisper that ignites my soul.

"Hey there, angel," the voice purrs. "Were you looking for me?"

I let out a deep breath to release the fury that boiled inside of me. “As a matter of fact, no. I wasn’t looking for you… Satoru.”

Chapter 3: Reinforcements

It takes me a second, but it finally registers. The letter didn’t actually say Suguru Geto. It was supposed to say Satoru Gojo. Suguru’s voice rings though my head:

“Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I try to recall. I guess I didn’t explicitly mention a name.

“Yeah, it is!” Damn it, why didn’t I say his name?

“It’s nice being paired with someone you know.” My body feels heavy as my soul fills with dread.

“It’ll be just like old times.” The world begins to spin around me.

I walk through the door without looking at Satoru and head straight for the windows on the other side of the room. The room itself is quite small, just large enough to fit a blackboard, a full teacher’s desk, and three smaller desks for the students. There’s a bit of extra room to spare, but none of it is enough to keep me away from Satoru.

In the reflection of the window, Satoru props himself against the larger desk, his long arms draped behind him. His smirk tells me he's completely at ease, as if he enjoys torturing me this way. “Not who you were expecting?”

I hold my response and continue staring out the window. I suspect he can read my discomfort.

His footsteps are quiet, but I feel them reverberate behind me. The air from the window feels cool, but it fades when his body radiates against mine. He leans down, bringing his hands around my sides. As he places them on the window sill, I can feel his face inch closer to mine. He’s too close for comfort but I can’t bring myself to push him away.

“With a bit more time, angel, you’ll see that I’m full of surprises.” I can feel the rumble in his throat as he speaks. “That is…if you’re willing to find out.”

My face turns hot and my thighs tighten. I may hate Satoru, but there’s something about his charm that feels irresistible. After years of dealing with him, I thought I’d get used to it. But this doesn’t feel like the same Satoru I used to know.

His arms are still placed on either side of me, but I swat him away, “Don’t you have better things to do than to tease me?” My brow rises. “Maybe… actually mentoring me?”

He lifts his arms in defense, “Hey angel, sorry if I’m coming on a little strong. I’m just having some fun.” He nudges my arm, and the force leaves me unsteady. “For old times’ sake.”

I roll my eyes and take a seat at one of the smaller desks.

“Plus, I’m not big on mentoring,” he adds. “Yaga has me doing this because I owe him for saving my ass on the last mission. Luckily he assigned me to you, and we both know you’re more than capable of doing this job without my help. It’s always been like that.”

“Oh how sweet. Is this your way of complimenting me?” I tease. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“What do you mean? I always give you compliments.”

“Calling me angel doesn’t count,” I sneer.

“Would you like me to call you princess instead?” He curled into a self-assured smile.

I blush, trying to bite back a chuckle. I lied, this is the same old Satoru. “So are you going to keep making up names, or are you actually going to teach me something?”

He brings himself close, his face stopping just short of mine. “I can teach you a lot of things, angel.”

I let out a sigh, “I’m serious, Satoru.”

“Fine, if you insist.” My curiosity is piqued as he props himself up and heads for the blackboard. 

“Lesson number one: If you ever want me, don’t want me,” he smirked.

I drop my shoulders and let out a sigh, but he continues.

“I’m serious! Lesson number two: If you ever need me…”

I finish his sentence, “Don’t need you?” His smile confirms my thoughts. “What’s number 3, Gojo-senpai?” My eyes plead as I pout in an attempt to mock him.

He seems uneasy. “Don’t do that,” he quickly snaps back, and I straighten up. “And now, lesson number three, the most important one: If you ever need my help, learn how to help yourself first.”

With a hint of sarcasm, I reply, “Wow, what a wonderful lesson. I’ve learned so much.” I gather my belongings and prepare to leave. “I think I'll just ask Yaga to assign me to someone else.”

He steps closer, blocking my path before I can fully rise from my seat. "No, wait. Don't do that,” he implores, his gaze earnest. “Can you stick it out for a little while? Just until this mentorship period ends. I need to get through these two weeks so Yaga won't make me do this again next year.”

I force my way up and scoff in his face, “Why on earth would I do that? What the hell have you done in these last few hours or even the last ten years that would make me put in a good word for you?” My volume increases. “You constantly tease me, you’ve never helped me, and—”

“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he murmurs.

“Excuse me?” My voice remains elevated from the anger.

“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he repeats firmly.

“Oh,” I pause as my voice settles. “Why would you do that?”

“For someone so smart, you ask the silliest things. It’s obvious you like him, angel.” 

My cheeks heat, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his penetrating gaze.

“It’s been obvious…for years—at least to me,” his voice softens. "And I promise, if you put in a good word for me, I'll help you with Suguru. No tricks, no games. Do we have a deal?" He extends his hand, waiting for my response.

This deal seems too good to be true. I try to figure out what the catch is, but nothing comes to mind. Unlike before, his gaze feels genuine and his smile seems sincere. I take a deep breath, preparing for a leap of faith. For the first time in my life, I guess I’m going to have to trust Satoru.

I reach for his hand, allowing a confident smile to grace my lips. “Deal.”

✦✧✸✧✦

Although this is not how I pictured my first couple of weeks back in Tokyo, this alliance isn’t as terrible as I thought. At the end of our work days, Satoru and I hang back in Room 2-C for our “mentoring” sessions. We spend 1% of the sessions on actual work, and the other 99% on dating. I tell him that it’s been a while since I’ve dated, and Satoru jumps at the opportunity to refresh me on the art of flirting.

 "Alright angel—you’ve known Suguru for a while, but I’m guessing like you only ever interact with him as a friend. Try starting…” he picks up his hand to graze the side of my arm, fingers lightly dragging towards my wrist.  “...with light touches. Make sure you maintain eye contact and smile genuinely." His voice is velvet and slow.

A shiver runs through me, and my mouth goes dry. I clear my throat. "Light touches, like this?" I laugh hesitantly. I try to mimic his advice, but it’s nowhere near as gentle as his.

Satoru chuckles. "Close, but you’re too tense. Just relax a little bit."

I soften my touch and continue to brush my fingers up his arm. As I slowly pull him towards me, our eyes lock and I’m immediately mesmerized. There’s a flutter in my core and it turns into desire. There’s an ache between my thighs, and moisture begins to form.

“That’s it,” he purrs as he leans towards me. “Just like that.” The pull of his voice is a magnet that continues to bring me closer. My heart races while the quickness in my breath trails slowly behind.

I close my eyes and let my cravings take control.

Satoru rests his thumb on the edge of my lip while the rest curl under my chin. He tilts my head and slowly whispers, “And that is exactly what you should do…” His voice perks back up to his normal tone. “...when you’re flirting with Suguru,” he smiles.

I shoot my eyes open and straighten up. What the hell was I thinking? Was I seriously trying to kiss Satoru? I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Wait…no, stop that. Something must be wrong, my wires are completely crossed. I shake it off to rid myself of the residual shame.

Shoko braided my hair like she’s done a million times before. “Hey, who do you think is cuter, Suguru or Satoru?” she posed out of curiosity.

“Hmm, that’s so hard. You know they're both hot.” I laughed. “If we’re going purely off of looks, probably Satoru. Sometimes I hate him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t cute. I think it’s the eyes.” 

“Yeah,” she replies with a hint of dejection in her voice. “I think so too.” I knew what was coming, but I could tell she had trouble getting it out. “Would you be mad if I asked him out?”

I pulled away for just a moment, “Oh my god, go ahead! Don’t worry about me. Suguru is still cute, plus he’s way nicer to me anyways.”

She paused for a moment, then threw her arms into a hug, “You’re the best.”

I smiled back and returned her embrace. “Okay, now finish doing my hair.”

✦✧✸✧✦

During these last two weeks the only times I see Suguru are during our lunch breaks. His schedule is hectic, but I can see that he makes the time for me—even though I know he doesn’t have any. I use these moments to practice some of the things I’ve learned from Satoru. Light touch, eye contact, genuine smiles.

I’ve touched Suguru’s arm, stared into his eyes, and laughed at his jokes many times before, but it was never like this. This time, all of my actions are bold, assertive, and confident. It’s no surprise that Satoru is a master of charm, but I didn’t expect him to be a decent teacher as well. Come Monday, he’ll be happy to know that Yaga will get glowing reviews for his mentorship.

For today’s lunch, Suguru and I are sitting on the courtyard steps, inches away from where he caught me just two weeks before. He has a look on his face that I haven’t seen before. I can tell something is on his mind by the way his brow furrows and his smile drops.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

“I was—” he pauses, then retracts. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“Come on, Suguru. You can tell me,” I place my hand on top of his.

He smiles, and I can tell my assurance has calmed him down. “I just found out that I’m leaving for a mission next week, and I won’t be back for a few days.”

“Oh,” I reply, a pang of disappointment lingers in my tone.

“I was wondering…” he starts. “Did you maybe want to hang out or something before I leave?” A nervous grin crosses his face before he adds, “Like outside of work?”

I perk up at his proposal. “Of course! I would love that. When were you thinking?”

“I know it’s last minute, but maybe… tomorrow night? It’s okay if you’re bu—”

Cut him off before he has the chance to ramble. I reply with, “I would love to.”

Our lunch continues and the conversation shifts between current events, life updates and playful banter. I learn that Suguru still prefers staying in over going out, he’s got a new obsession with cooking, and his hair care routine is a lot more involved than I thought. As he speaks, I can’t help but admire him and the person he’s become.

When we prepare to part ways, Suguru confirms our plans for the weekend, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Meet at my place around 7?” Grinning as he inputs his address into my phone.

“I’ll see you there,” I return a smile and hug him before I leave. The feeling of his touch is perfect.

Chapter 4: Reckless

The workday ends and I make my way to the usual room for my last mentoring session with Satoru. As I walk in, he notices the stupid grin plastered on my face. “You look a little chipper today, angel. What’s up? Excited that you’re no longer forced to spend with me?”

“Well, yes,” I laugh. “But also… Suguru asked me to hang out tomorrow tonight. I’m going to meet him at his place,” I fight to contain my excitement.

Satoru’s brow lifts with intrigue, “If you wanted an invite to come over, you could’ve just asked me.”

Confusion clouds my brain. “Excuse me?” I ask.

“He didn’t tell you we were roommates?”

The clouds dissipate when I realize what’s going on. “No he didn’t. I guess it makes sense though.” The thought of Satoru joining in on our date fills me with unease. “You won’t be there right?” I clarify.

“You can relax, I’m meeting up with someone too. No need to worry about me barging in on whatever “activities” you two plan on doing,” air quoting as he takes a seat at the desk in front.

“Satoru, stop. You don’t even know if that’s gonna happen,” I argue.

“You’ve spent ten years drooling over this man, and you finally get a chance to spend some time with him in his apartment…alone.” he starts. “I don’t know about you, angel, but that sounds like a recipe for sex to me.” He leans back towards the blackboard and places his arms behind his head. A smug look sweeps his face.

“Well, yeah I guess… but it’s more so…” I hesitate, struggling to find the words to say. The thought of Suguru and I being intimate has always crossed my mind, but I can't believe it might actually happen.

“Oh I get it… There’s no reason to be nervous. Sex is sex,” he interjects. “Plus, if he’s the one who initiated the date, I’m sure he’ll enjoy whatever happens, sex or no sex.”

He makes a good point, but I still feel unsure. Before I have the chance to stop myself, I blurt out, “Do you know what he’s into…like when it comes to sex? Do guys even talk about that stuff to each other?” The regret immediately slips through my lips.

Satoru gets up from his seat and brings his hands to my shoulders—a gesture of comfort I’ve never seen from him before. “He’s my best friend, I know everything about him,” he assures me. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“Can you just tell me? Please?” I playfully beg, placing my hands on top of his.

Something about my question changes his demeanor, like he’s been waiting for it all along. The air shifts and suddenly I feel a rush of heat. Satoru drops one of his hands while the other drags across my chest. He begins to circle me, walking slowly, like a lion with its prey. In a situation like this, his towering presence would normally intimidate me, but something this feels different. I'm not feeling fear; instead I feel secure, fascinated, and curious about what lies ahead.

He makes his way behind me and I can feel him lower his head towards mine. “I can tell you…” he whispers, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. “But do you want me to show you instead?” His words send shivers to my spine. 

He retrieves something from his pocket and places it into my hand. It’s a long piece of fabric, similar to the one he uses to wrap his eyes. My mind spins—stuck between the logic in my head and the cravings of my body. I hesitate for a moment, but the weight of my desire defeats me. “Yes. Please,” I say softly, as I wrap the cloth around my eyes.

“Perfect.” He ties the back securely, and I feel his touch tilt my head toward him.

I let out a breath and part my lips. Our lips touch, locking just for a moment before he briefly pulls away.

“I think for your benefit, and definitely mine, I’m going to keep my limitless on. That way it’s purely informational and you won’t feel a thing,” he says.

And just like that, an invisible barrier forms between us. While his touch is subdued, I still feel the heat hovering between us. The closer I try to get to him, the more I feel his body vibrate against mine—like magnets trying to repel. Damn it, Satoru. He might not feel a thing, but I… I still feel everything.

In my mind, I do my best to recall every part of Suguru from memory. I try seeing his face and emulating his touch. As the pieces of Suguru form, a clear image of him floods my brain.

I can feel his touch as Satoru moves up from my waist and beneath the hem of my shirt. He continues up to cup my breast and I can sense his kisses on my neck. They’re soft and muted, but the sensation still gives me chills. His breath is hot as his mouth works his way up to nibble my ear. I can feel his throat rumble when Satoru continues his lesson, “Do you want to know what Suguru is like?”

I nod. In my mind, Suguru’s dark eyes ease their way shut as he takes in my scent. His strands of hair brush against my shoulder as he continues to plant kisses down my neck.  

“Suguru is a lover—always takes care of his women,” Satoru purrs as he rubs his thumb over my breast. The friction against my nipple sends a jolt of euphoria through my chest. “Do you want to see how he’ll take care of you?” he asks.

My body tenses and I feel a rush of liquid between my thighs. I roll my head back onto his shoulder and hum with pleasure. My breath is labored, I can barely speak. “Show me,” I manage to let out.

“Well to start, he’d make sure your lips never go hungry.” Satoru slowly turns me around while his kisses move to my lips. His lips are soft, smooth as he takes me in.

The intensity rises as his kisses become needy. Using his hands to grip my ass, he leans me on the edge of the desk behind me. Shock fills my body and I can feel his tongue finding its way inside my mouth. Waves of his cursed energy flow through me. It’s powerful—commanding my fingers to lock into his hair. I pull him closer, imagining Suguru's weight crashing into me.

As the ache between my legs intensifies I ask, “What else would he do?”

“He’d work his way up your leg… past your skirt…” he slowly whispers. “And find your clit. Just to make sure she’s happy too.” His fingers travel to my panties, stopping just above my slit. He uses thumb to rub the cloth, and the trembles of his limitless cause me to moan. I roll back and forth, grinding against his hand, desperate for more. My moans are endless and slowly amplify every time the pressure increases.

When he realizes I’m enjoying myself, he runs his fingers along the edge of my panties. I whimper, wondering when he can put an end to this torture. I crave him so badly, I crave the feeling of him inside me—anything to help me find release. He finally gives in and slides my underwear to the side. As his touch grazes against my folds, I picture how good it would feel to have Suguru’s large hands cupping my center.

Satoru picks up on my thoughts and continues feeding my fantasy, “While he teases your pussy, Suguru would tell you that you’re already soaking wet…” The thought has me dripping more liquid onto his fingers. I feel his mouth curl into a smile and he whispers, “...but we’re only getting started.”

His fingers thrust inside me and I can feel the magnitude of his hands as my walls tighten around him. The thrill from his fingers barreling into me stun every inch of my body. I can feel my thighs clenching on the brink of release. His fingers find the sensitive spot within my walls and his mouth claims every spot on my body. His kisses become ravenous, like he can’t get enough. The more he devours me, the more he leaves me breathless.

I can hear him groan in delight and I notice the way his bulge presses against me through his pants. The desperation only makes him harder.

As the intensity grows, I cry for more. “Oh Suguru, just like that.”

“Do you like that, angel?” His pace remains steady as the sensation of cursed energy collects into his fingers. They continue to push against the insides of my center until I can’t take it anymore. The rhythmic motion leaves me breathless and I feel my body racing to its peak.

“Ugh, Suguru, fuck…that feels—”

“Does he make you feel good?” His voice feels heavy, like a low growl.

“Y—, ugh, ye—” I can’t form words through the pounding of his hand. He’s rapidly sending me to the edge and I’m ready to fall. “Suguru, you’re going to make me come.”

“Yes, angel.” Satoru says, before planting his lips onto mine. “Come for him.” 

Those words are enough to break me. The orgasm flows through my body and I feel myself beat around his fingers. His pace slows, but the sensual touch only brings more gratification. The thought of Suguru sending me into ecstasy leaves my body light, and my mind clear. The waves slowly subside and I feel myself resurrect. 

My hands head for the wrap on my eyes, but I hear Satoru whisper, “We’re not done yet, angel.”

I follow his lead and let the rumble of his voice bring me back into my dreams.

“Did you think Suguru would stop there?” he teases. “If there’s anyone he’d take special care of, it would be you.”

I feel his fingers slide out of me and I hear him lick the tips. “You taste so good.”

The words release a flutter in my core. I’m immediately enraptured and can’t help but crave more.

“Suguru would love this,” he starts. “Would you let him taste you too?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

I imagine Suguru’s strength as his hands cup my waist and he lifts me up on the desk. When I lean back, I feel him lift my shirt, exposing my breasts. “You’re so god damn beautiful.” His tongue licks my nipple before fully taking it into his mouth, giving it a playful tug.

“Please, I want you to taste me,” I plead. Liquid gushes out of me, giving him a good dose to start.

“As you wish, angel.” He bends down to hover his mouth over my center. I feel him linger before he adds, “Do you know what else Suguru likes to do?”

“Tell me,” I whisper.

“He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry,” he growls, letting his mouth devour my clit. The vibrations from his limitless amplify the sensation, and I’m on the verge of losing control. 

My body goes numb as his words echo through my head. He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry. I let out a moan, but it feels more like a cry. I completely unravel, feeling the tides of my orgasm come back to shore.

“Oh my god, Suguru. That feels so good. Don’t stop,” I cry.

As he continues to glide over me, I throw my head back and writhe in pleasure. His tongue goes up and down my center in a harmonious rhythm, and I’m so close to feeling ecstasy. His mouth on my lips may have felt needy, but his mouth on my pussy feels absolutely desperate. The ripples of his limitless accompany the motions and bring me to my limit. As he plants his hands on my thighs, I immediately crumble.

I melt into my orgasm as my legs tense up around him, squeezing him towards me. I picture Suguru’s hands gripping my thighs while he moans back in delight. My breath is quick, my heartbeat is unsteady. The muscles inside me contract and pulsate all over his tongue. He has me slick and he licks up every bit of the liquid that trickled from me.

“And that, my little angel… is a little taste of what you can expect from Suguru Geto,” Satoru chuckles.

I relax my legs and I feel one last kiss grace my center. I lay for a moment, feeling both lifeless, yet satiated. The thought of Suguru between my thighs still lingers in my mind.

“That was amazing, Suguru,” I breathed quietly.

As I sit up, my head is in a fog. I feel my brain spin for a moment. What just happened? Did I just have a wet dream about Suguru? Wait, no. Was it Satoru? It takes me a minute to recollect myself. Although I could see Suguru vividly in my mind, I remember that he wasn’t the person in the room. Anxiety surges throughout my body when I’m faced with the reality of what occurred.

I hear the door click, and rush to take off the wrap around my eyes. “Satoru, can we ta—”

To my dismay, there is no one else in the room. I see the blackboard behind me, the desk that seats me, three smaller desks in front of me, but Satoru is nowhere to be found.

Read Part 2 Here!

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[hysteria-things]

GHOST PT 2 PLS

GHOST (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt feels heartbroken for you, and using the estes method helps him connect with the afterlife to learn your story.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ANGST, swearing, crying, mentions death (strangulation), lots of dialogue

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 494

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: wanted this to have a short and sweet/sad ending🥲

it’s been about an hour or two, but matt still can’t fathom what he saw. let alone that he had sex with a ghost.

sam and colby talk to the camera, nick sandwiches between them leaving chris and matt in the back.

chris nudges his brother’s arm. “are you doing alright? you’ve been quiet.”

he puts on his best fake smile. “yeah. this hotel is just scary as fuck.”

chris laughs, nodding his head before yapping on and on about whatever.

matt tunes him out, feeling sad. despite being a literal ghost, he wanted to stay with you forever.

he misses you.

mirrors decorate the walls, the room is dark except for the lights that sam and colby set up on the floor. there’s a spirit box in the middle, and static comes from the speakers.

the five boys stand in the middle, taking turns to say stuff but having no luck. “i think you should only speak, matt.” colby explains. “they seem to really like you.”

clearing his throat, he starts speaking. “who’s in here with us right now?

some statics later, they finally get something. “y/n.”

there’s a twinkle in matt’s eye when he hears that name. “hi, y/n.” he says softly, sitting down to get comfortable next to the device. “do you feel safe with all of us in here?”

“you.”

“you?” sam repeats. “like… she’s safe with you?” he points to matt.

“i guess so.” he nods. “what happened to you at this hotel?”

“strangled.”

there’s some commentary getting thrown around the room with each question, but matt is focused on hearing only your voice.

“can you tell me who did that to you?” he says, keeping his tone content.

“brother.”

he can’t help but feel sorry for you. you were so young and had so much to live for, but now you’re known as one of the ninety ghosts that roam this hotel.

nose sniffling, his eyes start to water. he catches on and wipes the tears away. “are you free in this hotel?”

“no.”

before he can ask another question, another word picks up. “out.”

“whoa.” sam says. “it’s never done that—”

“peace.”

colby snaps his fingers repeatedly. “she’s doing rapid fire right now.”

after the boys become silent, and he continues with a shaky inhale. “you feel stuck in here; is that what you’re saying.”

“yes.”

without being able to catch it this time, a tear trickles down his cheek. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“are you crying?” nick asks, everybody else staring down at him.

“don’t cry.”

he ignores the others, but he doesn’t ignore you. he chuckles instead, wiping the waterworks.

“i’m fine.”

“take a break, man.” colby says, tapping him on the shoulder to help him off the ground.

with that, they contact different spirits after you. matt has to come to terms that he’ll never be able to see you again. he wants you to find your peace. he hopes you will be free.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms

#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests! #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff

[enmi-land]

ATTENTION

📄 ◜ ────𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

ʬʬʬ. 2024 pairing. poly!ot7엔하 x f!ocmember req. april fool’s prank gone wrong + enha ignoring ml + ml seeking txt & kiara for comfort cw. minor jealousy, drunk mila being a drama queen ( LIBRARY )

IT TOOK ABOUT TEN MINUTES INTO THE DAY FOR MILA TO REALISE THAT SOMETHING WAS NOT RIGHT.

It was not a crime or wake up to an empty bed, even if she had spent the night cuddled up against Jake’s chest, since the urge to use the bathroom could strike any time. That was easily forgivable. But the really odd things started happening once she left the comfort of her bed and wandered into the kitchen, where everyone was gathered for the usual morning routine of a group breakfast.

She was surprised, however, to find that the kitchen was absolutely empty, save for a note left on the kitchen top in Jay’s handwriting.

We decided to go to the company for some extra practice but i made some breakfast for you so make sure to get something to eat <3

They left? Mila tore her eyes away from the paper, instead searching the silent dorm. Placing the note back on the bench, she visited the doors of each of the boys’ rooms, knocking on the door. No response. She frowned as she checked her phone, only to find that there were was not a single text sent to her by on of the boyfriends. They must be busy…

Mila shrugged as she sat before the delicious plate of French toast prepared by Jay. She wanted to take a break before her scheduled in the afternoon, but the others were working hard. Kiara had a scheduled solo photoshoot so she was also out of the dorm today, leaving Mila alone in their home. She hummed in delight as she ate a piece of toast, using her free hand to send a text to the group chat.

You: I just woke up hope everyone slept well 🩷

You: and thank you Jay-oppa for the food 😘

Mila shut her phone off. Staring at the fridge across from her, she began to think. Since she was free this morning, she might as well do something nice for her group members. Maybe I should make a cake!

Mila nodded. That was a good idea. And so, she did exactly that— after cleaning up the mess left behind by the others before they went to the company building, she found herself sitting in front of the oven as she watched the chocolate cake inside begin to rise. She looked down at her phone.

It was a few hours since she had sent her initial text, and she still hadn’t received a reply. She didn’t mind if they were busy, but she hoped they weren’t working too hard… The last thing she wanted was for one of them to collapse from exhaustion.

Mila jolted form her thoughts when the timer of the oven went off, signalling that the cake was ready. She smiled she pulled it out of the oven with her mitt, leaving it on the bench for cooling. A quick sniff of the air instantly made her mouth water form the sweet scent. She just knew the others were going to love this.

Opening her cameras, she snapped a quick picture of her creation to send into the group chat.

You: make sure to get lots of rest, okay? i have a cake waiting for you at home ❤️

Maybe that would help raise their spirits, she thought.

Mila was humming happily as she strung on her bag in preparation to go to her next schedule, until she saw a new notification pop up on Weverse. And all of a sudden, she didn’t feel so good anymore. Because she was so sure that her boyfriends were busy, and that was the reason why they hadn’t been responding to her texts all morning—only to see that they had made a new post on Weverse for their fans to see.

It was this moment where she started to wonder if something had happened, if she had done something wrong. Because if they had time to post something on Weverse, surely that meant they had time to respond to her texts, right? Even if it was a single emoji, to let her know that they had seen her messages, she would take it. But…. 

Mila shook her head. Maybe they just didn’t read all her messages yet—understandable, considering she did send quite a lot of them. She would give it some time and see if they would respond later.

But they didn’t. And it ate away at Mila for the rest of the day, until she had time to call her number one confidant about her—her one and only unnie, Kiara. 

“So they haven’t responded to even a single text of yours?” Kiara asked with furrowed eyebrows, a finger on her chin. The two were currently in the TXT dorms, the members of the group watching from the kitchen as Mila and Kiara spoke.  “They’ve been responding to mine, though…”

Mila swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes stinging. “Oh…” She lowered her head. She felt sick to the stomach, feeling as if she might lose all the lunch she had eaten not long ago. If they were responding to Kiara’s text and not hers, then wouldn’t that mean that they were…. ignoring her? But why? Did she do something wrong? “I must have upset them for some reason, then, right? They wouldn’t ignore me for no reason…”

“Hey, hey, don’t jump to any conclusions.” Soobin slid onto the couch next to Mila offering her a box of tissues and helping her blow her nose. “We don’t know that they’re ignoring you.”

Mila looked at him in doubt. “Unnie literally just confirmed that they were responding to her texts and not mine. How is that no ignoring me?”

“Wait, he might be right,” Huening Kai spoke up. “Have you looked at the date?”

Mila furrowed her eyebrows. She opened her phone to check it, only to frown even further. April the first? It took a few seconds before everything clicked into place. She jumped up from her seat on the couch, the box of tissues falling to the floor. “It’s April Fools Day!” she exclaimed, in a mixture of horror, realisation, and disgust. She brought her hands to her hair. “And I’ve been fooled! Ugh! I can’t believe I almost cried because of a prank!”

Mila face palmed, causing Kiara to shush her. “Hey, don’t say that. It still would feel bad even if it wasn’t a prank. I know I would feel sad if Yeonjunie-oppa ignored me.”

“Which I’ve never done,” Yeonjun suddenly spoke up from the kitchen bench, earning unimpressed looks from both girls. “Just saying…”

Mila sighed. “Congrats, oppa. You’ve won the best boyfriend of the year award.  Mine are no loner in the running.” Yeonjun had a look as if he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not. But Mila wasn’t looking his way. She narrrowed her eyes at her phone instead, plotting what to do with her newfound information. Since they wanted to prank her so badly, maybe she should let them have their fun…

She huffed as she sent one last text, before muting their chat. If that was what they wanted to do, then fine; she could give them the same courtesy. She turned to the TXT boys. “Do you want cake?”

“I can’t do this anymore!”

Jaaeyun flopped dramatically against the floor of the practice room, clutching his hand  to his chest after reading the latest text from Mila. Riki shot him an unimpressed look from beside him, raising an eyebrow as he slapped the older’s thigh. “This was your idea, you can’t be the first one to fold.”

The said idea that Riki mentioned was, in fact, a prank that the boys all agreed on, considering it was April the first—also known widely as April Fool’s Day. Jaeyun had been the one to suggest that they all pretend to ignore their girlfriend, at least until they saw each other later one tonight, when she would be back home from her schedules, and they would be finished with theirs. But all it took was the endearing messages from her as she spammed them with pictures of the cake she was baking for them and random little updates during the day, and it felt like torture to continue the charade any longer.

“Just look at her!” Jaeyun said with a groan, as he showed them the selfie Mila took, with her fluffy smile after decorating the cake she was so excited to have them try. “Ugh… I can’t. I have to text back. My heart hurts.”

Heeseung sighed as he stared at the photo, his fingers subconsciously reaching to pinch her cheeks through the phone. Why did he agree to this in the first place? Everyone knew he had the worst case of cuteness aggression and clinical clinginess towards his girlfriend, and he wasn’t even interested in proving otherwise. He should have just turned down the idea the moment it was proposed. And yet…

“Drop out if you want, man,” Sunghoon said, “No one’s stopping you.”

But of course, Jaeyun couldn’t. “Shut up. You’re just saying that because you want to spend more time with her.”

Sunghoon laughed.

They had childishly agreed that whoever could last the longest would have the reserved cuddle sessions of everyone else to themselves for the next three days (they tried bargaining six, but some members—as in Sunghoon and Jungwon—were quick to refuse). It seemed like a great idea at the time, seeing as they were confident they could go at least a few hours with no contact. But they forgot to factor in the fact that they were incredibly down bad, for their equally down bad girlfriend.

“Now she’s saying she misses us,” Sunoo said as he read the most recent text, adding fuel to the flame.  “‘I know you guys are busy, but let me know if you’re okay. I miss you lots, heart emoji, heart emoji.’”

Jake groaned, causing Jay to kick him slightly in the butt as he rolled over. “This is the worst day of my life.” He held up his hand as Sunoo went to read another text. “Don’t. I’m suffering enough as it is.”

Jungwon sighed, massaging his temples while shaking his head. He normally wouldn’t even entertain the idea, despite the so-called ‘prize’; Mila would definitely fold and given him extra cuddles if he acted cute, so he didn’t need to steal from the others. The only reason he agreed was because he had a feeling that Mila might have already planned to prank him anyway, so he might as well make the best of the opportunity to get her back and to get more cuddles in the same day.

He turned to look at the eldest, who was staring at his phone so intently that there may even be a hole drilling through it soon. At least he wasn’t the only one. 

Only a few more hours, and they’d be able to put this behind them.

Or so they thought.

It was a few hours later when they arrived at their dorms to find that she was nowhere in sight. And it was then that they realised she was nowhere to be seen. All that was left of her was a note on the fridge saying, I won’t be home tonight, don’t look for me. The only thing that could describe the events that followed the discovery of the ominous note would be the gates of hell breaking loose on the dorms.

“She’s not picking up her phone,” Heeseung said panickedly, after calling her number for the fifth time.

“Or her texts,” Jungwon replied with a frown. Jaeyun and Jongseong turned up hopeless results as well, receiving not even a peep from Mila since the last text she sent, over an hour ago. It didn’t seem like anything was out of the ordinary; it was just a text letting them know that she had finished her schedule. So it only made their word even more that she had suddenly dropped off the grid with no warning other than the hastily written words on the sticky note.

“Wait!” Jongseong suddenly exclaimed. “Her manager just texted. Apparently, she dropped Mila off at the Tubatu dorms earlier on.”

The others heaved sighs of relief. “That scared me,” Sunoo said with a hand on her heart. “For a second I thought she was kidnapped and the perpetrator made her leave a note behind so we didn’t get suspicious.”

There was a moment of silence.

Riki side-eyed his hyung. “I think you just watch too many horror movies.”

Sunoo shrugged, before turning on his feet to go to the bathroom, seeing as the ordeal was sorted. It wasn’t unusual for Mila to visit the TXT dorms, considering her unnie was there a lot of the time, and it could get old being cooped up in the Enhypen dorms every day. They didn’t worry if she was with their seniors; they knew the TXT members would watch over her, if anything were to happen. They were just surprised that she didn’t seem to notice their prank on her.

“I thought she would be spamming our phones,” Riki said absently as he opened the fridge. “She usually catches on fast…”

Especially on April Fool’s Day, of all days. Mila was usually the type to figure out their odd behvaiour and call them out as soon as she noticed. The fact that they didn’t hear anything from her meant she probably was none the wiser. So maybe, they didn’t need to feel so bad about their little prank, after all… 

Still, it didn’t make it any less disappointing for some of her boyfriends who wanted to bask in her affection as soon as they got home from a tiring day of practice. Sunghoon pouted as he flopped onto the couch, zoning out into the distance since Mila wasn’t here to occupy the empty space of his thoughts with her little rambles.

“Ugh, I could use some sugar right about now,” Jaeyun said as he opened the microwave. Mila’s final text had been to let them know she put it there for when they got home. But to his surprise, there was nothing there… except another note, which said: “‘I took the cake for the Tubatu-oppas?!”” 

His voice was utterly mortified as he turned the note, as if expecting a ‘Gotcha!’ to be written on the other side. But no. The cake was indeed gone, and it seemed she really had taken it for the TXT members, even though  she said she explicitly made it for them.

“Naur way,” Jake said in disbelief. Heeseung looked over his shoulder and started to draw lines inside his mind in order to reach a conclusion.

Maybe she did know about their prank after all… He sighed as he called Kiara’s phone. As soon as she answered, he was greeted with what he could already see as an eyeroll on the other side of the phone.

“You finally called,” Kiara said. “Can you pick up your girlfriend? She’s completely insane.” Before Heeseung could ask what she meant, he heard Mila’s voice in the background saying something along the lines of, “No, I don’t wanna go home,” in her obviously drunken voice.

So yes, they might have pushed her a little too far this time…

Sunghoon and Jongseong weren’t sure what they were expecting to see when they got to the TXT dorms, but Mila crying on the couch while bundled up in a blanket burrito was somewhere near the bottom of the list of possibilities. The two friends shared a glance, which didn’t go unnoticed by Huening Kai, who had been the one to let them into the dorms in the first place. He rubbed the back of his neck while they watched Beomgyu try to entertain Mila like she was some child, only to be smacked on the back of the head by Kiara.

“Your face is only making it worse,” the older female scolded.

Yeonjun (who was standing the furthest away from the scene as possible) noticed the two Enhypen members as soon as they walked into the room and looked at them as if they were his guardian angels sent from above. “Hey, you made it! Come here, come here…” Yeonjun called to Mila over her shoulder. “Your boyfriends are here now! Why don’t you head home?”

Kiara massaged her forehead with a perplexed sigh while Jongseong and Sunghoon were practically dragged by the older male towards their crying girlfriend. Soobin simply laughed, before excusing himself, since he had to leave for a schedule. Sunghoon and Jongseong bowed to the older as he left, the member simply wishing them luck dealing with the drunken Mila.

Mila sniffled as she glared up at them. “What are you doing here?”

Yeah, okay, they probably deserved that. 

“Come on, Angel, we came to take you back home.”

Jongseong reached out slowly to take the blanket from Mila’s head, as if she were a puppy about to bite his hand off if he moved too suddenly. But before he could even graze the blanket with his fingers, Mila huffed and inched away, before lying herself down onto the couch so she looked like a caterpillar curling into a ball.

“I don’t want to.”

Sunghoon couldn’t see her face, but he definitely knew she was pouting. He would have usually found it adorable, but it was a little awkward when his noona and three seniors were watching him from the side with a slight sense of judgement for being unable to coax his own girlfriend into returning to their home with them. He cleared his throat, before shaking Mila’s lying figure.

“Come one, you’re going to bother noona and the hyungs,” he ushered gently. But he must have chosen the wrong words, because while Mila was shooting up in her seat—her eyes were watering and she hiccuped.

“Is that why you were ignoring me today?” she asked, her voice shaky. “Because I’m a bother?”

“No, no, no!” Jongseong immediately rushed in to save Sunghoon, who had frozen at the heartbroken look in Mila’s eyes, his chest constricting as if someone had crushed his heart in their palms. “That’s not it at all, Angel.”

Fuck, he thought. He should have never agreed to the prank. He was going to beat Jaeyun’s ass for managing to convince him—and then himself for ever letting himself be convinced in the first place. Jongseong clearly had the same idea, because he was instantly jumping on the first excuse that came to mind in order to save them from being target’s of their girlfriends (well-placed) disappointment.

“It was Jake’s idea!” Jongseong exclaimed. “He wanted to prank you since it’s April Fool’s Day—we tried to warn him, but he really wanted to do it… It was our fault for agreeing, but really, none of us were angry at you. It was just a really bad joke—We’re sorry, angel. Don’t be sad, okay? You can pay us back however you want?”

Mila sniffled. Her tears had been blinked away, but she still had that kicked puppy look on her face that made Sunghoon simultaneously want to wrap her up in a blanket and also run outside so he could scream to the skies. “Really?”

Jongseong and Sunghoon nodded a little too fast. Mila didn’t get to respond before Taehyun was walking into the room, smiling at the new arrivals. “Oh, you guys made it. Are you here to take Mila home?”

“No.” Jongseong almost fell over at the strong denial in Mila’s voice. “Since they ignored me all day, it’s only fair that I get to–” she hiccuped. “--to do the s-same…” She lay back down on the couch. “I’m staying here and I’m never going back.”

Good gracious, why did his girlfriend have to be so stubborn? Jongseong was on the verge of going gray because of today, and this was not helping. He sighed, not knowing what to do. Fortunately for him, Taehyun seemed to have an idea, because he was kneeling beside Mila, a gentle smile on his face.

“Hey, Mimi, want to see a trick?” Mila’s eyes brightened with curiosity as she looked at the TXT member. She nodded enthusiastically. “But if I show you, you have to agree to go back home with Sunghoon and Jongseong. Okay?”

Mila looked conflicted, before sighing and nodding. “Okay.” She then glared at Taehyun. “But it has to be a really good trick!”

Sunghoon and Jongseong exchanged looks as Taehyun nodded and patted Mila’s head gently. They didn’t want to be ungrateful, seeing as he was doing them a favour… But did it have to involve patting their girlfriend’s head? Unfortunately for them, that wasn’t the full extent of the “trick” that Taehyun had planned. Because before they could say anything, his hand had moved from the top of her head, to behind Mila’s ear, lingering there for a bit, before he pulled away to reveal a flower in his previously empty hand.

Mila gasped in wonder at the sight of the flower. “Wah! It’s so pretty!”

“Right?” Taehyung asked. He held it out to the younger female while smiling charmingly, causing alarm bells to ring in Sunghoon’s head. “Then make sure to take care of it properly, okay? At home.”

Mila nodded and reached out to grab the flower from his hand. But before he could, she was suddenly flipped upside down, thrown over Sunghoon’s should like a sack of potatoes—blanket burrito and all. “Okay, thanks, hyung! We’ll be going now.”

“Hey!” Mila kicked her legs around, but struggled since she was still wrapped in the blanket that constricted her movements. She looked at Kiara, who was watching with a flat expression while waving. “Unnie! I’m being kidnapped!”

“Sorry, Mimi, but it’s time you head home home now,” Kiara said with a wave. This prompted the others to do the same, watching with barely concealed amusement when Jongseong rushed to grab Mila’s things, before following Sunghoon out the door.

“My flower!” Mila called in protest, holding onto the door frame to stop Sunghoon from walking out with her.

“You can come back and get it tomorrow,” Taehyun suggested.

“Respectfully, but no!” Jongseong yelled in reply, before prying Mila’s hands away from the door frame. The door shut with a loud bang, and the sounds of Mila’s protests died out in the distance as they got further away.

“How do they have so much energy?” Yeonjun asked in amazement.

Beomgyu snickered. “It’s because they’re not old like you.”

By the time Mila was taken home, her boyfriends were all clamouring to her, explaining their side of the story (which, despite no negotiation, somehow all involved blaming Jaeyun for everything) while she sulked on the couch. It took a while, but in the end, they came to an agreement before Mila fully sobered.

“No more cuddles for you,” she said.

The boys shared looks, but agreed with reluctant sighs. 

Well, that was pointless.

"Now can I have my flower?" Mila asked.

Sunghoon and Jongseong were subject to five confused gazes. "Flower?"

Oh boy. The dorm (and the world) wasn't ready for the mess that would come from the Enhypen members learning magic tricks to impress their girlfriend...

TAGLIST @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @jwnstars

NOTE a bit of a rushed ending but i really didn't know what else i could write so it felt approperiate to just end it there before it trailed on and got too long XD

#◌ 🌸 ˴ milana bai . ˚◞ ★̶̲ ꒱ #enhypen 8th member #enhypen added member #enhypen eight member #enhypen extra member #enhypen fem oc #enhypen female addition #enhypen oc #enhypen female member #enhypen addition #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x oc #enhypen poly #enhypen female oc #enhypen ff #enhypen au

[angelltheninth]

Could I request NSFW of Malleus going feral over seeing his fem!s/o wearing a wedding dress?

When is not feral haha.

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, wedding night, torn clothing, biting, scratching, marking, kissing, mating mark

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: Malleus is at his best when he's being and feral at the same time.

From the moment he was you walking down to meet him at the alter Malleus couldn't keep his eyes off you. He never could actually but there was just something about seeing you in your wedding dress that sparked a possessive and primal urge within him. Boiling in his gut, begging to be unleashed.

He could only give you kisses, longing looks and subtly run his hand up your thigh under the table. The entire time you could feel lust radiating of him like fire.

It was time for him to unleash it, finally, having you to himself.

"You're absolutely breathtaking." He has your wrists pinned above your head, your back arched down and turned to him, your ass against his clothed hard cock, "My beautiful bride. My... mine." Hot breath warmed your neck. Your body burned for him as his did for you. Your head was spinning, partially from the wine and partially from having Malleus pressing against you like this. Unable to contain his desires.

Heat crawled up and down your body as he caressed you with his free hand, revealing your bare thigh and hiking the dress up as he went, "You can't wait can you? You've been staring at me for hours now Mal."

His chuckle tickled your neck, his teeth sharp and cold, "Can you truly blame me? You're the woman of my dreams, married to me, we're gonna build a life together. Just the two of us." His hand traveled to your front, pressing against your stomach, "For now."

You shuttered at the thought of him, above you, inside you, coming inside you so many times you can't walk right afterwards, having to be carried in his arms.

"I apologize for what I'm about to do next my darling. I know you played a lot for this, but I promise I will make it up to you." He pushed his cock closer to you, and the next thing you heard was the sound of torn fabric and the sensation of suddenly being cold, being naked.

"Malleus! Pervert!" You tugged and bucked against his grip, only backing up into his cock as a result. His clothed cock felt good on your naked pussy, growing wet where it touched, ruining his wedding attire as well, "You could have just told me to strip you know." You wiggled against him deliberately. Oh the sweet revenge. And even more, you spread your legs, willing and inviting to him, "Take some responsibility."

A shaky breath left his mouth, hot against your neck, his tongue even hotter, "Anything for you darling." He kept kissing your neck, a good distraction when combined with his hands running across your front, getting your nipples hard, making your head swirl and your pussy drip, even making you fail to hear when his pants hit the floor. The warm head of his cock pushing through your folds took you by surprise, a much too welcome one. "If you would allow me the honor, I would like to become one with you tonight. Body and spirit. Would like that, my most beautiful rose?"

You nodded furiously, desperately trying to open up more, take him inside of you, soothe that burning fire, that ache in your stomach and your cunt, "I'm already yours. So go ahead, do as you wish Malleus."

Those words acted like a leash and collar to him, pulling until... "Shit, how you so wet already?" Malleus, shaking with need, bottomed out in your warm hole and stopped, adjusting to the sensation of your velvety walls taking him in, "You're perfect." He mumbled, "Need to... mmm... make you mind now." His fangs broke the soft skin of your neck, drawing bits of blood, the painful bite mixing with the pleasure of his cock moving in and out of you, slowly, his heavy balls pushing against your every time he bottomed out in your cunt.

He was in no rush at all, comfortable with taking his time, only occasionally making a sharp hard thrust, laughing against your neck when you'd gasp and clench tighter around him. All the while his teeth remained closed around the base of your neck.

The short, sharp thrusts that he surprised you with made you back up against his, craving him, almost under some wonderful thrall underneath him. Was the room spinning from the alcohol or were you just feeling that good? You don't know, you don't need to know, you only need Malleus to make you feel good.

Sharp claws dragged up your thighs, leaving little faint marks before smoothing over your shoulder. His fangs let you go, hot mouth traveling over the bite mark, a long, warm tongue soothing the pain before moving to your right shoulder, biting a less permanent mark there.

Malleus seemed determined to mark every part of your body he could.

"I think I'm getting close." You definitely were, the heat in your belly building up to a fire, a storm, threatening to tear you apart if left untended. "Touch me. Two fingers." You whined even as he obliged, rubbing down your body, his fingers finding your aching clit and rolling them over, rolling your clit between then, rubbing small, slow circles, then going faster when he'd thrust in hard, and repeating the process. "Yes, you feel so good Mal. Keep doing that!"

He was nothing if not eager to please you.

Malleus's hips started bucking wildly, sharp slaps and squelching noises mixing in with moans and growls, "Squeeze. Fuck, squeeze around me and make me come!" Malleus roared, chasing that feeling, ramming into you with newly found force.

You whispered out a gentle, "Malleus," before you felt your orgasm crash over you. He followed closely after, his orgasm nearly simulations to yours, warm cum pumping into your pussy from his throbbing cock.

"Damn. Holy fuck." You leaned your sweaty forehead against the door, "And we haven't eve broken in the wedding bed yet."

"I can change that." Malleus was still as hard as a rock inside of you. You never wanted him to leave, you wanted to keep his cock warm forever. "We can keep going all night." He wiggled his hips playfully, enjoying the way you arched into him further, humming in delight at his suggestion.

"Lose the rest of your clothes first. I think it's time for a little payback. How do you feel about being tied up with a tie?" You didn't see his eyes widen but you sure did feel his excitement at the proposal, "So yes?"

"Only if I can tie you up later, I have got some nice ideas." Oh. Oh well then, this is gonna be a... eventful night.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twst x reader #twst headcanons #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst smut #twst malleus #malleus headcanons #malleus x reader #malleus hcs #malleus smut #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia smut

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hey lovely~ I got a angsty idea for you

How about a alastor fic? Where he loves reader and he goes to tell them but? Their dating Lucifer~ so? He sees them kissing and stuff

Whatever else you wanna add feel free too

Hello Love~ Here ya go~

Sweet As Apple Pie

Lucifer x GN!Reader x Alastor

(RadioApple x GN!Reader)

A/N: This is my first time writing a ship x reader fic so if it’s kinda weird I apologize.

TW:Jealousy, Alastor and Lucifer fighting, Alastor crying and even more crying at the end. 

Finally finding the courage to tell you how he feels, Alastor quickly finds out how late he was..until you have a talk with him.

The walk back from Cannibal Town was quiet, giving Alastor the perfect opportunity to think about how he was going to exactly talk to you about his weird feelings about you. The feelings he would rather keep pushed down but Rosie had convinced him that he could talk to you and it wouldn’t kill him, even if it killed his pride a little bit. How could he think about that right now when something caught his eye from a shop across the road, something that you would love.

When Alastor got back to the hotel, something immediately felt off to him. Then he heard it, your laughter mixed with Lucifer’s laughter. That short stump of a man thinking he can take your heart from him? His pace quickened as he tried to figure out where you were located, his undead heart skipping a beat when he heard you laugh harder, the gift in his pocket feeling heavier and heavier by the second. Stopping near the kitchen door, he raised his hand about to knock on the door, his gaze softening as he glanced over your frame. The way the apron was tied around you and how you had flour all over your face, holding a knife in one hand and a peeled apple in the other. The soft smile was replaced with a strained grin when he saw how that small nuisance that everyone called a King, pulled you down into a gentle kiss wiping a cloth over your flour covered face. Why did his chest hurt? 

A scowl graced his lips as Lucifer finally looked over at him. “Oh it’s you,” He called out, making Alastor glare at him, you looked over and smiled at him. “Al! What can I do for you?” you walked over but before you could touch him, he backed up and shook his head making up an excuse to leave quickly. He quickly disappeared to hide in his room. He sat down on one of his chairs and looked down as something wet was running down his face. He blamed it on the condensation of the bayou but deep deep down..he knew it wasn't the cause of the condensation.

~~~

It was an hour after you had watched Alastor leave without explanation, you excused yourself from Lucifer (who pouted and gave you puppy dog eyes) but you promised to be back as soon as you could. You knew better than to follow after Alastor immediately especially since he looked so agitated. You hummed carrying a plate of his favorite snack that you had made for him in hopes it would lift his spirits even if a little bit. You loved Alastor but understood that romantic emotions for him were few or far inbetween. You respected him in every sense of the word and you hoped it shined through even if he was a bit of a drama queen. You just didn’t know how far he would go to protect you. He would destroy the Earth if he had the chance to see you smile at him once more.

Your feelings for Lucifer had just hit you out of nowhere one day, you were talking with Angel about it (cause the boy loves drama) and when you said it outloud it scared you. You had feelings for The King of Hell- the Big Boss man himself and when Angel saw the tears forming the laughter stopped immediately to comfort you. Who knew a year later that he’d be asking you out on dates and being an anxious gentleman. You loved both of them equally, but how could you bring it up to either one of them? They both hated each other and they didn’t dare hide it, so you did what you do best. You pushed down your feelings and tried to forget. 

You took a deep breath and knocked on Alastor’s bedroom door, “Al? It’s me, can I come in?” You called out patiently waiting hoping he wasn’t in his tower doing a broadcast but before the thought to go check his tower crossed your mind, his door opened to reveal him to be asleep in his chair. His shadow happily letting you in, you smiled towards the shadow who curled around you before moving about his room. Walking towards him and hearing how the soft radio static changed to different stations as he slept made a soft smile pull at your lips.

You placed the treat on the table next to the chair and moved to carefully drape a blanket over him. A hand reached up and grabbed your arm making you yelp in surprise as Alastor chuckled his arm gently rubbing where he grabbed your arm. “Sorry to wake you, Al..I wanted to deliver your favorite snack..I hope I made it to your liking.” You whispered out watching as he slowly blinked the sleep from his crimson eyes. Your heart fluttered as you watched him for a moment before you looked away, you couldn’t think like that. He wasn’t interested in you like that.

“I bet it’s amazing as always, Dear. Now how did you get inside my room?” He hummed standing up and stretching causing you to fully realize he wasn’t wearing his jacket and his tail (oh god his tail looked super fluffy) was happily wagging. Your eyes snapped on his figure before chuckling, “You’re shadow let me in..are you okay? You seemed agitated earlier.” You asked fiddling with the hem of your shirt. He stayed silent for a moment as he put his coat back on before sitting back down and motioning for you to do the same, which you happily do sitting down on the couch in his room.

You both sat in silence for a few moments longer, nothing out of the ordinary between both of you, you glanced over a few times to see him happily eating the treat you had made. You smiled and looked away allowing him to take his time to collect his thoughts even if it took an hour for him to do so, you didn’t mind sitting in his company. After what you assumed was half an hour or maybe even ten minutes a loud knock erupted from the door causing Alastor to glare at the door. 

“My Love?~ Are you still there?” Lucifer called out as you got up and looked over at Alastor who had also stood up, his ears flat against his head in annoyance. He opened the door and glared at Lucifer, “You are interrupting our time together.” He growled out causing Lucifer to scoff and roll his eyes, “I’m the one interrupting? I’m not the one who disappeared and made my dearest worry about you.” He growled back before his eyes landed on you, his gaze softening. “Darling there you are, the apple pie is done if you’d like to come down and try a slice?~” He purred out, gently grabbing your hands as soon as you got close.

You smiled and looked back at Alastor, “Would you like to join? I can make your favorite tea as we speak?” He nodded and reached over to brush your hair out of your eyes, “Of course, give me a moment and I’ll be right down.” He ignored how Lucifer gave him a dirty glare and pulled you closer to him. He turned back into his room to make sure he still had the gift hidden in his jacket pocket before grabbing the now empty plate from the table, he could tell you couldn’t he?

As you got back into the kitchen you smiled seeing how Lucifer had graciously pulled the apple pie out of the oven. “You didn’t want to take the first slice, Luci?” You gently squeezed his hand as red blush creeped up his cheeks. “Nope! I wanted to wait until you got the first slice.” He hummed watching as Alastor appeared from the shadows into the kitchen cleaning up the dishes with a flick of his wrist. You gave Lucifer’s hand a gentle squeeze before moving to start making Alastor’s favorite tea.

It was silent for a moment longer before Alastor cleared his throat ready to rip whatever he felt off of his chest. “I uh..I realized I have certain feelings and Rosie urged me to get them off my chest.” He said not looking over at you but he could feel Lucifer’s glare. “Oh? Who’s the lucky person to catch your eye, Al?” your voice was soft as he took a moment messing with his cane as he sent a look towards Lucifer, “I..It’s you, Dear.” He whispered out his ears flickering before he stood up seeing you drop a plate on the ground, hands shaking. Lucifer ran over to check for any cuts on your hands, constantly glancing at your face trying to decipher your emotions.

You were silent for the longest time as you felt guilty all those emotions had bubbled over into a flurried mess of tears and laughter. Not the point and laugh kids did to each other in school but more of the you felt like a moron. Oh, Alastor felt downright horrible seeing you cry like that, walking over and ignoring how Lucifer was basically cursing his bloodline he gently cupped your chin. Lifting your head so you could look at him, the laughter dying down to a loud sob as you kept apologizing over and over to them both. How you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole right now.

“I feel so bad-” you sobbed out causing Lucifer to gently wipe your tears away, “What’s wrong, Love?” he asked softly his heart hurting as he hated seeing you cry like this. “I’m in love with both of you but you both hate each other-” you exclaimed causing the both of them to cast a glance at each other. “Oh darling..” Alastor whispered out as Lucifer sighed, “Let’s talk about it okay? I’m not upset at you if that’s what you're thinking.” Leading you to a chair he helped you sit down. Gently holding your head close to his chest as apologies slipped through your lips allowing Alastor to give you some calming tea.

After a few moments of talking it out between both of them, they were able to come to a conclusion of sharing you. Alastor gently hummed a soft tune as he pulled out the gift from his pocket and gave it to you. Lucifer was most definitely going to try and one up him later but for right now? He was more focused on giving you kisses and cuddles to keep those tears away from your eyes, “Don’t you want to go eat some pie, Lucie? You were looking forward to eating some.” You whispered out blushing darkly as Alastor kissed your knuckles and Lucifer grumbled, “Hmm..No..You’re kisses are as sweeter than that apple pie~” he hummed out his chest puffing out hearing your laughter. “You’re both dorks.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x alastor #lucifer x you #appleradio #radioapple #alastor x gn!reader #lucifer x gn!reader

[theoccultz]

×What are Other's Assumptions of you ?

General reading take what resonates leave what doesn't ,dont stress about it

A short reading -Jisoo Kim inspired PAC

LGBTQ+friendly (can apply to any gender)

Intuitive Reading

Note-i'm just here to deliver what you need to know not what you want to hear so please respect my space+tarot is not to be replaced with legal or medical advice its upto you how you take decisions and use it for your highest goods .

Decision is always yours i'm not responsible for it ,see ya at your pile!!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pile l. Pile ll. Pile lll.

Pile IV. Pile V. Pile Vl.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

>Pile l.

Key words:realiable ,sweet.

Angel number:545,616,882

×I believe you are on a shorter side ,you might wear bright colours or colours that stands out ? people feel you are short tempered, quick to make decisions they think you are stubborn and wont follow the leads they believe you are free spirited and prefer to do things your own way ,they feel like you are always on the go ,they feel like you are lucky they feel like you hustle a lot . B?

people generally see you as hard working and mischievous,like its easier to be friends with someone who you can call anytime,a friend that would suggest you places to be, i feel like others like your smile or they way you talk ,others believe you have admirers it leans more towards platonic sense where others want to work or engage with you like you are the person who can cheer them up .

I was getting this group thing maybe they feel like you dont talk to others "easily" like you have a specific type of people you follow or wants to be associated with... yeah,if you wear glass they like your glasses .

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

>Pile ll.

Key word: family-oriented, hush hush

Angel number:000,919,524

Others tend to assume you are in a elite position in some way ,like you are leader , everyone will choose you above them you may come across as very gentle and wise with your words ,they assume you create things for yourself like you are never on one project you have different projects going on which will make big among others .

I feel like others tend to spy on you *sorry if you're uncomfortable* ,i dont see the general lets follow them its more like who are they? What kind of work they do?whats their family background? ,I think this groups has people basing them off of *mainly* assumptions rather than facts .

People like to assume you are on your own like you wouldn't mind being left out of the group its like you are comfortable or nonchalant enough to not focus on it ,i feel like others feel like you have a structure or something you do daily there's this timeplay involved or others may not even know you they just see you at places and assume "i dont think so this person is all over someone's face they prefer to observe first and then approach". Generally others are curious about you .

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

>Pile lll.

Key words:cool, responsible

Angel number:98 ,5,33

I fel like this pile is judged a lot based on their looks or the things they do or others related to them ,ah you guys my fighters lets buckle up .

I feel like you wont take L you will throw it back much stronger that it hits on their self esteem,others feel like you're picky and more on the outspoken side they feel like you take risks generally that they wouldn't dare to try it,they feel like you do big things like you wouldn't just sit back and relax you will speak the shit and let them know what they are doing is wrong idk where this is coming from but i like it .

You guys others cant mess up with you its like you will read them for eg:your friend is upset and instead of telling her/him to stop being on edge you are more like i know what happened with jason yesterday and its like a shock to everyone because how tf do you know? *That was a cliche example dont judge me* ,this group say things and do them lol. Its quite shocking to others ,you may be unpredictable or keep things private.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

>Pile lV.

Key words: sensitive, quite

Angel number:1, 659 ,994

Others assume that you read the room very well ,you wont ask any sensitive questions you know the unseen social rules well ,others feel like you are very helpful and friendly,they feel like your love language is words of affirmations ,they feel like you are an animal lover or you are good with others energies.

Others feel like you are compatible with them ,its like a sense of protectiveness they feel with you ,i feel like others are dependent on you energy wise and it could be too much for you at times but you try ,you could be a lightworker .

Aww look i gotta say it they feel like you have a big beautiful heart its cute honestly,you could be a therapist friend to many *pls its not a good thing for you* anyways i felt like the need to help you out so you could attract more dominant individuals,others assume you know you're beautiful like you do acknowledge it ,others feel like you are shy? Or just not interested in their talks sometimes,but generally others do value your presence more than you think .

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

>Pile V.

Key words:Debunker , peaceful.

Angel number:66,819,444

Others assume that you know their secrets*lmao* now idk where's that coming from or you guys are analytical or aware of your surrounding a lil too much ,others feel like they cant outsmart you or that you are very confident under your skin ,its like the feeling of oh i cant knock you off ,you could be more adaptive to different kinds of people or things .

I have a feeling this group minds their own business but somehow others dont feel like you do ,i feel like you could be popular or talked about or your aura could be responsible for attracting others .

+18 ahead

Others are really attracted to you sexually they feel like you could be a good match as a partner or you are experienced than them .

Anyways others assume you have a lott of options or thst you are a highly pursaded by your options believe it or not ,others are more romantically attracted to you than platonic i feel like people will stare at you for no reason but its more of their curiosity in your work or the things you are doing ,they could like the way you sit the movies you watch,the colour you wear .

Pile Vl.

Key words:perfect , Talented

Angel number:33,62,89

People feel like you are a cool person a person they cant control they feel like they cant provoke you , because you'll have no reaction to their b.s ,others feel like you are very content and enjoys one's own company , people may react dryly to your interests don't take any offense tho i feel like you are naturally very intriguing the things you do others may or may not get it, people find you cute ? Yeah

They feel like you have great connections they might feel intimidated like they wouldn't approach you directly but through a friend,they feel like you are a great team worker someone who's active , Caring and easy to deal with , people feel like you are others first pick for coffee or tea because you have a calm presence to you ,you may be very comforting towards others ,i feel like you are well liked and has a Charming presence,you could be very pretty too .

Others feel like you are quick on your feet like you have quick reflexes ,they think you take things seriously? You are careful in public places ,i feel like people in this pile are remembered for a long time for their behaviour or how they made others feel,others see you as a nurturing presence in their life .

I wont lie i was picking up on fetishes and day dreaming too .

Thanks for reading (:

#Spotify #pick a card #tarotblr #pick a pile #spirituality #intuiative reading #kpop tarot

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Plotting Serpent.

A Sorcerer in the Sands seeks something far bigger than himself. Freedom, sweet freedom.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Bundled up in several layers, Jamil makes his way down a twisting path and into an open market.

The ground crunches softly under his boots. His breath is chilled, turning into a fleeting fog as he exhales. He retreats to the comfort and safety that his bulky coat provides, watching bales of white lazily drift down around him.

Snow instead of sand—imagine that.

The market operates straight out of the town square. From a vantage point--his temporary housing upon a hill--he can see the entirety of it, all the stalls forming a circle. The market is, by no means, large—but it has the spirit of something grander. The banter, the bartering.

Not so different from the bazaars at home.

Jamil ducks in, taking his time to pace around to each vendor. He’s agile and bright, like a child first viewing the moon and rushing to catch it in his palms.

Most sellers—and most customers—are elderly, gnarled like the roots of a tree. The cold colors their rounded cheeks the same red as many of the apples on display.

There’s pink and yellow and green too, and other fresh produce. The majority of it, he is told, is grown in Harveston. Others are foraged from Mt. Moln—nuts, plants, berries, and mushrooms.

Other stalls offer already manufactured goods. Scarves and gloves to protect against the winter, steaming apple drinks and sweetly spiced snacks, toiletries lovingly handcrafted with botanical oils.

His eyes light up with interest. He stops to inspect a row of shampoo and conditioner bars.

Feel free to touch and smell! says a sign at the stall.

He does, testing the weight of a bar in his hand. It is light and has an easy slip to it, and gives off the faint aroma of apples. Slightly tart and juicy.

It'll be good to have on hand, especially when it weighs less than liquid variants. The sign says these bars are made with apple seed oil, an ingredient that treats split ends and dryness while restoring a shine...

He absentmindedly feels the ends of his hair. The locks are normally dark and glossy, but the cold has not treated them well, leaving them slightly dry and brittle.

That's the cost of travel. It can be difficult to predict how my skin and hair react to different climates.

“Excuse me,” Jamil calls out to the stall owner, “I’d like to buy one of these shampoo bars, please. One in the conditioner bars as well."

“Sure thing!!” The owner wraps up the bars and slides them over. As Jamil hands him a few bills, he pipes up. “Say, yer not from ‘round here, are ya, sonny?”

“Yes. I am but a traveler.”

“Traveler!” The owner’s eyebrows shoot up. “Real fancy livin’ ya must have."

“No, not at all. I try to live humbly and travel light.” Jamil indicates his backpack, the one piece of luggage that follows him wherever he goes.

"That so? Not many young folk visit these parts." The owner strokes his rounded chin in contemplation. "I figured ya must be on yer way to the city. A lot more for youngins to see 'n do there."

“I beg to differ. The village has shown me incredible hospitality during my stay. Delicious foods, friendliness... I can enjoy Harveston's natural sights without worry. I'm content with just that."

With each word that leaves his lips, he feels the weight that has been on his shoulders lifting.

Jamil, you're free, the wind seems to whisper. The realization is intoxicatingly sweet and crisp, the first bite taken from a forbidden fruit.

"Aww, that warms mah heart ta hear ya say," the owner beams. "Yer a good kid, yer parents would be proud of ya."

"My... parents?" Jamil falters at the mention of them.

His parents are back home. His sister, too. Najma had texted not long ago, pestering him about bringing her a souvenir and asking when he’d be back.

His family is waiting for him. And... who else is there?

Jamil's brows furrow. Suddenly, he feels as though someone should be beside him, and he, trailing after them. A hopeless person buying up all the stalls, shoveling new dish after new dish at him.

"Here, try this, Jamil! Oooh, and this! That looks super tasty, have some too! And this cracker!"

"Where did you get all this food from?! There's no way we'll be able to feasibly finish this before it goes bad. Why do you never listen to me, Ka..."

A growl rips from his stomach. Jamil's eyes widen, and his face heats.

The stall owner's laugh cuts through his confusion. "Gahahah! Ya hungry there, son? Here, lemme grab ya somethin' on the house."

"Oh no, sir, I can't accept that."

"I insist!! Won't be long 'fore ya mosey on outta here and move on ta the next place. Eat yer fill while yer here, there ain't nothin' like a homegrown Harveston meal or snack anywhere else in Twisted Wonderland!"

The owner rustles with utensils behind the stall, He fills a container with a generous slice of pie--oozing with apple filling--and fluffy pancakes, plus a few potstickers. Then he pours hot tea, apple cubes bobbing in the spiced brown liquid, into a paper cup.

Jamil gets a whiff of it from where he stands and--against his better judgment, his mouth waters. When the owner hands him the container, cup, and a wooden fork, he doesn't refuse them.

"Remember us ‘n all the fun times ya spent here."

"Thank you, sir." Jamil bows his head. "I will. I'll never forget your kindness."

"Don't 'cha mention it. Go on 'n git now, ya got plenty more of the village to visit!""

Jamil departs with his purchase and his gifts, which he immediately settles into.

Lifting the paper cup to his lips, he sips his tea. It's deep and tangy from the cinnamon and apples it has been brewed with. He pleasantly warms from head to toe.

It isn't long before he downs the rest of the drink, apple cubes and all. They're not fresh, but dried--so when his teeth slices them into halves, they're springy and chewy, with a strong flavor.

Jamil lowers the cup, dragging out a satisfied sigh.

It's then that he realizes he's walking directly into a black wall. He veers sharply to the right, but still brushes his arm against that of the incoming person.

“Pardon me. I wasn't watching where I was going...” Jamil looks back, but is startled to find no one where his shoulder has made contact.

Hm? Was I imagining things?

Jamil glances around the marketplace. The crowd is too sparse for him to miss anyone. There are grandmothers and grandfathers, mothers and fathers, each dressed in thick coats and boots, some wrapped in scarves and others sporting fuzzy hats or earmuffs.

But no one is wearing all black.

He shakes his head.

It was probably nothing then.

Jamil returns to browsing the square, his every stride as light as a feather. He feels as though he is dancing atop the snow.

The cold no longer bothers him.

The wind, carrying a new message that resonates with his heart. It seems stronger now, rumbling like a deadly avalanche.

"Be free, Viper. Be free."

#twisted wonderland #twst #Jamil Viper #Scarabia #Kalim Al-Asim #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst countdown #twisted wonderland countdown #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #I've been dreaming... #twst anni #twisted wonderland anni #twst anniversary #twisted wonderland anniversary #Malleus Draconia #Najma Viper

[jaylaxies]

JAY — LOVE LANGUAGES

pairing: jay × fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, mentions of unprotected sex, mentions of food.

wc: 1079 words!

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

a/n: hihii! i’m so in love w jay guys, he’s the epitome of perfection! this was requested by anonnie (here and here), all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated <3

ꗃ WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

🩶Jay knows how much a single statement can affect your whole day, which is why he never fails to greet you with the sweetest yet meaningful text such as a “good morning, princess,” text and it doesn’t stop there. He’ll go through any lengths to make sure you’re aware that you’re the light of his life. It would provide him with utmost pleasure to give you handwritten letters each month, just to see a sweet smile on your face.

🩶 He leaves small post it notes for you, writing down exactly what you need to read because he knows it’ll boost your spirits. He loves to pull you into sweet kisses, mumbling sweet nothings in between as you take in his comforting scent and open up your whole heart to him, which he promises he’d keep safe forever.

🩶 “You’re the prettiest girl ever, my prettiest girl ever, and I’m not letting anyone make you think otherwise,” he’d say on the days you feel insecure, trying to hide your body. But his kisses are loving, healing every self doubt arising in your mind, letting you feel free with him as he goes on praising your body, his lips worshipping every inch of you. His main concern would be to make you feel comfortable while making love to you, thrusting gently as he looks at you with love filled eyes.

ꗃ ACTS OF SERVICE

🩶Jay’s selflessness makes you want to hide him in your arms. He would do anything for you, and he’s made it clear. He subtly starts to take responsibility of making sure you’re well fed by cooking for you, trying to incorporate your tastes into healthy dishes and even rewarding you with your favourite dishes whenever you feel down.

🩶 He knows that your schedule doesn’t leave you any time to get the house cleaned up or get the grocery shopping done, so he takes the matter into his hands whenever he gets time and makes sure to get it all done for you, not to mention how he smiles when he sees you favourite snacks at the store, getting some for you, knowing you’ll give him loving kisses when you discover it in the shopping bag.

🩶 Being smart and organized is another reason why he helps you with your university work or projects and he goes beyond your imagination to spend some quality time with you, which includes him arranging a relaxing bath with soothing tunes playing in the background, and he just sits there, slotting you between his legs as he gives you featherlight kisses over the expanse of your neck and shoulder blade, perhaps even more if you let his fingers wander down inside your cunt in the promise of him making you feel as if you’ve reached heaven.

ꗃ GIVING GIFTS

🩶 Jay might be allergic to flowers, but he doesn’t miss the smile on your face when he finds you staring at the flowers whenever you go out, so he makes sure to get the prettiest bouquets delivered to your place.

🩶 He notices every single thing, which also includes your taste in outfits, so whenever he finds anything he believes you would fancy, and would suit you, he makes sure to purchase it for you. He personally loves to have good perfumes and he’d probably purchase a whole collection for you even if you show the slightest interest in any scent.

🩶 Love letters, restaurant bills from your dates, personalized gifts such as matching bracelets/necklaces and artworks, he’d be willing to gift you everything that reminds him of you. He loves to act like a sugar daddy at certain occasions, spoiling you and smirking, holding the gift up just to see you whining, which would turn into a sweet hum when he kisses your lips deeply.

ꗃ QUALITY TIME

🩶 If there’s one thing Jay would want more than anything, it would be spending quality time with you. To him, time is important, and so he goes out of his way to make sure he gives you enough time, not only because he wants you to feel loved, but also because he’s so in love with you, it’s practically impossible for him to go on without you.

🩶 His eyes are nothing but loving when they stare at you full of adoration, it doesn’t matter if you’re spending a cozy evening together, watching a movie while being in each other’s arms, wrapped up in the softest blanket you own, or if you’re trying to be productive together, he swears he finds solace simply by being present in the same room as you.

🩶 Jay personally loves it when you try out new recipes together, giving each other spoonful to taste and experiment. Going out on late night walks is another thing he adores, even more so when your smaller hand holds on to his bigger one ever so adorably.

ꗃ PHYSICAL TOUCH

🩶 He’s clingy in general but it only gets better when you’re alone with Jay, he pouts when you don’t give him attention, whining about him not being able to breathe without your touch simply to get your attention. His smile is goofy when you finally sit with him, gently letting him sleep on your lap with your fingers caressing his cheek, playing with his hair, exactly how he likes it.

🩶 Good morning and night kisses are mandatory for him, however he can’t control if you’re pouting and so, you’ll often find yourself under Jay as he kisses you deeply, sweet giggles leaving your lips as you both get rid of your clothes, gaze brimming with warmth, desperate sighs resonating the room. He knows your weakest spots, and he kisses them, your eyes fluttering close at the blissful pleasure of his length hitting the deepest spots in you, his breath tickling your neck before he marks your sensitive skin, possessiveness taking over as you come undone underneath him.

🩶 Being close is not enough for you both, he needs to have his cock inside you, cockwarming being one of his favourite activities while cuddling, watching movie alongside, yet your focus is solely on how he stretches you, filling you up so perfectly. He also offers to massage your body on the days you feel tired, with no energy to work, and he’d be gentle, also giving you tummy rubs when you’re having painful cramps. He’d always be there to hold you no matter what.

TAGLIST: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear

taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added

© jaylaxies | tumblr

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #jay x reader #enha smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #jay park smut

[sammyboyimagines]

Cold Embrace

Astarion x Fem!Reader

//ahh! first time writing for BG3 since I started playing in September. So excited to write for all the characters! This takes place somewhere in ACT 2.

Summary: Astarion had a nasty habit of taking every moment to scrutinize your actions. But in a moment of forced closeness, you have no choice but to talk it out.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of Astarion's past, mean!Astarion.

Word Count: 3.7k

The darkness of the Shadowlands brought on a new wave of anxiety through you the deeper you got into the thick bristle surrounding its past. It reminded you of your home, the war-torn town ravaged by bombing, raiders of all races, and rapidly spreading fires that enveloped any hope of survival. Shortly after fleeing your home and heading to Baldur’s Gate, you had a nasty run-in with some mind flayers, and the adventure started there. The hidden shadows loomed over the party as you made your way to Last Light Inn, a shiver running down your spine.

The land itself was terrifying, but the fact that this dark realm reminded you of home was all the scarier. A runway from a young age, you found solace at Baldur’s Gate under the narrow alleyways and the occasional generous storefront owner who was nice enough to provide some currency or even some food to spare.

Every time the party left for another day of traversing through the harsh darkness, a pit of nausea sat at the bottom of your stomach like a pile of boulders, weighing you down. The faint smell of sulfur and ash filled the air, the flames of your torch providing the only medium of safety. And a flimsy medium of safety at that…

“Hey, soldier…Everything alright?” Karlach was, of course, the first to notice the change in your demeanor as she followed closely beside you. Her fiery hot temperature warmed your body as she stood beside you, notes of concern on her features. “You’re awfully quiet for someone so cheerful..” Karlach trailed off, a slight hesitation on her part.

It was true, you were generally the sunshine figure at camp, even when spirits were abysmally low. “I’m alright, it just brings back some bad memories, being here.” As much as Karlach’s comforting warmth beckoned you to dump all the information about your past right on her doorstep and walk away, you felt Karlach did not deserve to be burdened by your dark past coming back to haunt you.

“Well, either way, I’ll be sitting by the campfire later if you want to find me and talk about it, love.” Karlach pulled ahead, her hands swinging freely by her side. At times it seemed like nothing in all the planes could shake her, it was admirable. The journey through the Shadowlands was fraught with challenges, yet Karlach’s unwavering spirit and warmth brought light to the darkest of days.

You wished to feel the same way, dreaming that the overwhelming fear of losing it all would dissipate. The sunny days as you travel with your group to the Mountain Pass aided with your struggles. Long journeys ended with warm nights that felt like a comforting hug against your body on the bedroll. You watched the sky go dark and the warmth of the sun faded to a deep chill.

“Let’s change up the subject, shall we? What are you going to do about a certain someone at camp?” Karlach attempted a whisper, her voice only slightly lowered as she asked you.

The certain someone was a nuisance, a nagging pain that refused to scare off no matter how many times you threatened him midst frustrating battles after he made a snarky comment.

Astarion.

Each passing moment with the group only fueled hatred for the man—his penchant for feeding on your insecurities whenever they’d rear their head. One particular source of embarrassment in the recesses of your mind was the moment you came upon some cultists of the Absolute on the path from the Emerald Grove.

They had a sword to you, the sharp edge pressed tight against the small of your back. “Don’t you try anything, sweets. Tell me what I need to know and you’ll go free. Where is the godsdamned grove?” A low rumble of laughter shook the evil creature behind you. In that harrowing moment, you had two choices; give up the information or die.

Without a pause, you surrendered and gave half-truths. Anything that would send them down the wrong path with the confidence of ten men. Perhaps it was a survival instinct or a depressing act of cowardice. Emerging from the encounter, you felt the crushing weight of shame lingering over you. How could a leader surrender so easily?

The sad looks of pity from your party members weren’t the worst of it, no. It was Astarion’s biting taunts that sunk the deepest, an assault on your confidence.

“Are you going to be like this whenever we face anything other than a mere goblin?” His voice was laced with venom while he spoke. He shifted his weight onto one hip, eyebrows raised as he blatantly belittled you with no remorse.

You had decided to come out of the situation with grace rather than retaliation that day, especially considering the words that left his blood-hungry mouth as you turned your back to him to continue your journey; “Wonder when she’ll decide to sabotage us again.”

You pressed on, ignoring the sting as tears welled up in your eyes. Those words echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of why you were here in the first place. The party followed closely behind, just out of view.

It’s safe to say that the vampire had been less than kind to you ever since you picked him up from the trail outside of the nautiloid. But even his harsh remarks did not warrant any reciprocity from you, instead an aching in your chest that could not be explained. An odd twist among the animosity.

You fingered your blade between your hands, absentmindedly admiring the smudges and tiny chips in its shiny silver exterior. The blade was a tangible reminder of the battles and hardships you had endured, the weapon’s previously shiny exterior now marked by scars just like you.

“What’s got you down, darling? Break a nail?” Astarion’s mockery dripping in amusement, the remark was yet another dagger stabbed into your back by your supposed “friend”.

“I can’t deal with this tonight, Astarion. Please, just leave me alone.” You sounded more sad than you intended, cringing at the sound of your own shaky voice. He didn’t get the message though.

After a quick silence, Astarion retorted with some venom of his own, like always. “Whatever, sulk all you want. We’re going to Moonrise tomorrow, and if you can’t handle it, then perhaps you should hang back at camp while the rest of us do the hard work.” A fake pout spread across his lips, his hands laid on his hips.

Astarion had no idea where his hostility came from. When you’re in his vicinity, he feels so vulnerable, like you know exactly what’s in his head. Your presence annoyed him simply because he didn’t know what to make of you. Why were you being so reserved despite his remarks?

“You know what?”

Your frustration finally boiled over as you threw your silver chalice onto the ground, the shitty wine spilling out as it clattered to the dirt floor. “I’m sick of listening to you spew all this bullshit, Astarion. You don’t know shit about me, not that I’d trust you not to use it as a weapon against me!” You approached him, a finger waived in his face as you followed his retreating footsteps.

“Now now, darling. You know I’m just teasing you-”

“Just teasing? You’re an insufferable asshole. Next time you want to approach me, it’d better be with an apology or you’ll leave with a wooden stake in your torso.” Your words caused an ear-splitting silence that only made you feel leagues worse. That threat caught the attention of the other camp members, Halsin and Karlach quickly jogging over to break it up.

Karlach dragged you away to her tent, allowing you to sit while she got set up for the night. “That was explosive! Had we waited any longer, you’d both be leaving with bruises and broken limbs. What in the hells happened?” Her outrage was understandable, but the red-hot fury rushing through your veins blurred any rational thought.

Meanwhile, Halsin stood in front of Astarion with his arms crossed. They were just out of earshot but you could tell Halsin was not pleased with the situation.

“You didn’t hear what he said, Karlach.” Before you could continue with your angry ranting, Karlach put a hand up to stop you.

“Uh-uh, you and Astarion must talk this out like proper adults. Can’t believe I’m the one telling you to cool off, but it’s true.” She let out a small laugh at your pout. “And don’t give me the puppy pout, soldier…”

“Tomorrow, find an appropriate time to talk it out- without violence, please!” She grasped your shoulders firmly as she directed you towards your tent. Settling down for the night, you nestled yourself into bed with a myriad of thoughts swirling in your tadpole-filled head. As usual, sleep did not come easy.

The next morning, you awoke to the grating sound of Astarion banging two pots together. “Wake up, fearless leader! We’ve got a lot of people to murder today!” He shouted from outside your tent, snickering at his own actions. You heard Karlach shout at him as she yanked the pots from his hands.

“Get away before I break you in half…” The threat was fake, but it scared him off either way. He scoffed to himself, frustrated that the whole group danced around your feelings as if you were made of glass.

Your journey through the Shadowlands continued as you approached Last Light Inn. The aching in your feet was unbearable, each new step sent a new wave of aching through your body. The inn was so close, a faint light cutting through the dense darkness. It had to have been at least a couple of miles away at this point. Through the dark, monster-infested forest, the walk had been anything but relaxing.

The ground gave out underneath you, the dry unsaturated dirt falling and giving way to a deep hole in the ground. Perhaps it was a trap, you thought. Glancing around in the small space, you managed to find no evidence of foul play. Maybe it had just been the ground weakening after so many years in darkness?

Either way, the groaning just feet away from you made you glance below you to see Astarion slowly getting back on his feet. “Oh, this is just perfect. We were almost there, but no, we had to step into this trap-or whatever it is…” he whined to himself, glancing up at the rest of your party that stood above you.

“Shit! Hold on you two, we’ll look for something to help you out. We don’t have any rope on us, so we’ll have to see if we can find some!” Karlach shouted down at you both, digging through her pack for anything useful but not success. She whispered quietly to Gale, who gave a quick nod in response.

“Um, guys? What’s the plan here?” You voiced your concerns, and worry spread over your features.

The pair left quickly, making their way to Last Light Inn as fast as possible in an attempt to get assistance. “Where the hells did they go?” Astarion spat out, an angry expression on his face.

“To get help, what else?” You shrug. “Karlach wouldn’t leave us behind.” You leaned against the dirt wall of the hole, rubbing your temples as you felt a headache coming on.

“Unlike someone in our little band.” Astarion chuckled at his own joke, meanwhile, you were anything but amused. Direct attacks like these weren’t uncommon, but they still hurt nonetheless.

Words felt short as you searched your mind for some witty response. “What did I do to you?” You asked, a softer tone taking over. Astarion paused, looking you up and down.

“Excuse me?” He wasn’t sure he heard you right. Were you playing the victim?

“Did I do something wrong that made you decide to criticize me for everything? Or is it just your favorite pastime to make me feel like shit?” A shaky voice that came out as you spoke surprised you. You’ve faced more fearsome men than Astarion, yet you can’t keep your composure enough to scold him for his bad behavior.

Astarion paused for a moment, his breath quickening in realization of his actions. He traced his surging thoughts for a cause- any motive for treating you this way. But there was none.

Trapped in the darkness of the sinkhole, the urge to escape drew heavier and heavier as silence fell upon the two of you. Rescue could be hours- days away, who knows what danger could occur if they don’t return?

You had managed to stay far enough away from the vampire so that your backs were almost touching, a warmth from your body sending heat waves his way.

“There’s got to be a solution. Do you have any ideas? A shovel?” You cringed at your own unpreparedness, you’d forgone taking the shovel on your journey and left it in the chest of your belongings.

Your thoughts were cut off by an unwavering silence. Astarion had no retort, no sarcastic teasing, nothing. You huffed out a quick breath, the dirt wall shedding particles of dirt in consequence. “Look, I know we haven’t been pleasant with each other ever since we met, but I do not plan on dying in a hole.” You started clawing at the walls of the sinkhole, dirt clinging underneath your nails.

“I know you hate me but we have to assume the worst and-”

“I don’t hate you.” A soft voice broke the seemingly never-ending silence from Astarion’s side.

“What?” You stopped digging for a second, not being able to hear your own thoughts from the rock and rubble hitting the floor.

“I don’t hate you…” His expression softened, and his sharp features dulled into a tender gaze.

“If this is some kind of cruel joke, I’m not playing a role in it. From the way that you speak to me, would it be unfair to assume you’re not a fan of my presence?” You did not want to chew him out, but this day could not get worse, so you neglected your inhibitions for now.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why, but I just can’t…” he took a pause to think about his wording because you’d surely dig your way out and bury him if he found himself offending you.

“I can’t uh- function when you’re around. I feel like you’re- ugh I don’t know, pitying me?” He asked as if it were a question you could answer.

“Pitying you-what?” You could hardly see his face, but you could slightly visualize his white curls as he stood almost a foot away from you. You could smell his cologne, a faint woody yet citrus smell that made you dizzy.

He may be beyond aggravating but godsdamn did he smell good.

The confined space seemed to magnify the tense emotions between you. It was almost intimate, the way you could practically cut the thick tension with a knife. “You’re just so, nice…” He started speaking again, a different tone in his voice.

Honesty.

Astarion could sense your anger before you erupted and shoved him against the dirt wall. A wave of heat rose to his cheeks- was he blushing?

“Are you fucking kidding me, Astarion? You treated me like shit because I was nice to you? You better have an explanation-” He cut you off by pressing you back and right into the dirt wall behind you. Any frustrated words fell on your tongue before you could say them.

“You pick me up off a random trail, offer me to stay with you, and treat me better than I have ever felt. After years of bullshit from my master, all of a sudden you come around as a result of these fucking tadpoles, and I just trust you.” He paused when he noticed the heavy silence from you.

The unexpected confession was fucked up, especially considering that he could have had this conversation in the time he’d been in your party. “Why-”

“As much as I love to hear your voice, let me finish.” With that, your stomach fluttered in response to him. Not just his words, but his large hands that pressed your shoulders gently into the wall. It wasn’t a hard grasp, you could absolutely pull away if needed.

“I have never trusted anyone in my entire lifetime. But from the moment I pulled that knife on you, I knew you were nothing but genuine. And that’s just it. Why are you so nice despite everything I’ve done to you? Just tell me you hate me, be rude.” He begged you.

“I don’t hate you.” You were copying him now, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“See! Pity. Just tell me you have some kind of ulterior motive and you’re not the first person who has shown me any kindness in over 200 years.” He was almost moved to tears at this moment. His hands shook, just mere centimeters from yours as he pleaded for any sign of hatred on your part.

Of course, he didn’t hate you. How could he?

The way you blindly trusted him had him suspicious at first, but the more he grew to know you, the more he appreciated it. It wasn’t so much the physical aspects that he enjoyed, though you were the most stunning woman he’d seen in his many centuries on Faerûn.

Your eyes were almost magnetic, the adoring glint in them when you gawked at a cat or anything else that caught your attention made him wish you’d glance at him that way. Hells, if you’d give him a single smile, he’d be reminiscing about it for the rest of the day. Feeling the sun on his skin for the first time in several years, and seeing the forest in its full color, neither compared.

His breaths were heavy with insecurity, a pit in his stomach as he gathered the courage to raise his gaze to you.

You spoke softly. “You know you’re not a bad person, right? You’re not a monster.” You shrug it off as if it were a fact that simply rolled off your tongue without a single residual thought. “I don’t think you’re a monster.” Your voice shrunk slightly, realizing how heavy this confession might weigh on a vampire spawn.

Astarion was speechless for a brief moment, an incomprehensible look on his face. “If only everyone else thought the same, dear.” He didn’t quite know what to respond with. After all he’d put you through, the feeding, the enemies he’d made along the way; he’d understand if you had run away in fear, but you didn’t.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks of you.” You frown at his words, the feeling of his body against yours is intoxicating, but you manage to push away your lust for the time being. “Hells, it doesn’t even matter what I think of you-”

“It does! Look…” He sighed to himself, removing his grasp on your shoulders. His hands found their way to your waist, resting on the slightly rusted metal armor you had acquired somewhere in the recesses of the Githyanki Creche. “I care what you think…” His red eyes glared down at you, his gaze flicking down to your lips occasionally.

“I’ve been unfair to you, dear. I held you to higher standards and scrutinized everything you did as if I could do it any better than you. You’re just uh- not like anyone I’ve ever met, and the fact that you can understand me better than myself it seems-” He paused, another sigh leaving his lips.

“It scares me.”

Astarion’s gaze faltered from his confession, a taste in his mouth that could only be described as embarrassment. Dragged from his thoughts yet again, your warm hands met with his face as you held his cheek. “I understand, Astarion. But you also have to understand that I couldn’t have possibly known your true intentions. I mean- that was some heavy scrutiny…” You snickered to yourself, watching the embarrassment on his face melt away into a softer expression.

The rest of the campaign had not arrived just yet, and the blistering cold air was near impossible to beat. Though Astarion’s body was not very helpful for warmth, it felt better than simply standing on your lonesome in the small dirt hole.

Between the close proximity and your hand on the side of his face, his mind was clouding with desire. “Gods, how could you stand all of it? If it were me I’d have bloody killed you by now.” He said with a pout on his face.

You thought of how to respond to that. Was it not sheer luck that you hadn’t murdered him near the nautiloid after he threatened you? Have you been harboring these feelings this whole time?

“Perhaps it’s your charm, or perhaps it’s the fact that there is little other option than to be friendly with you.” You held your tongue as often as possible during Astarion’s teasing, but it seemed like he finally understood.

“No no, I think it was the first one.” He stuttered out with a gentle smile, his fangs briefly appearing, shining in the faint moonlight. “You know…the rest of the group is going to be gone for a while. I know a way we can make time go faster…” The topic of your interest in him had always kept him awake at night, but now that he was positive you felt charmed by his words despite his endless mockery, he felt warm inside.

Astarion was not blissfully unaware of his past. Men and women would see him for one thing; his body. If he were to withhold, the opportunity for praise from his master, Cazador, would be gone. You were not simply a victim for Cazador, so why did he feel like he needed to use himself to keep you?

You put a hand on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “Baby steps, darling. First, I think we should focus on getting out of this hole.” The sigh of relief that came from Astarion’s mouth confirmed your silent theory about him. The man had been extra flirtatious to practically everyone he met, and as the time you spent with the rest of your part grew larger, you could see his disdain with every passing word.

A frown on his face afterward, brows knit tight together in thought. Regret.

“Oh, well-” He paused, swallowing the urge to shell himself out. “That’s very refreshing to hear.”

“I’m glad.”

#bg3 astarion #bg3 x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion angst #reader insert

[cowgirlcherrie]

𓏲 APPLE OF MY EYE ᵎᵎ secret admirer! abby anderson

synopsis: love is a free spirit; crushing is even harder. It all started with a special delivery of anonymous treats at your door. While you were yearning that it would be your best friend sending them to you.

song(s): apple cider by beabadoobee

*LYRICS ARE BOLDED

content: takes place in game universe. follows the events leading up to seattle day 1. violence. death. repetitive mentions of apples; eating them, imagery etc. mutual pinning. implied character death by end. blood. right person, wrong time. missed connection. kinda implied fem! reader. Joel death mention. death foreshadowing. intuitive knowledge of death. Closely follows the song.

WE BOTH LIKE APPLE CIDER

Crush and Crunch.

Crunching with your crush. 

It all sounded the same to you, the cracking of your vocal cords at the back of your throat pushing at enunciating every syllable in crush sounding like crunch; which were your teeth poking into an apple every Tuesday. Shiny Granny Smiths, on Tuesdays, Honeycrisps on Wednesdays, and Fuji on Fridays. 

You weren’t sure when the kitchen started getting apple deliveries; perhaps the never-ending garden of trees grown them with the perfect analytics to make sure they weren’t poisonous or synthetic apples but you weren’t complaining. The first time you tried an apple sounded ridiculous to say. Your first ever. You took the finely cut slice; detached from its core to your mouth, groaning in satisfaction as the flavors mixed together in your mouth like a rollercoaster. Juicy and bitter with a tinge of sweetness.  Just how you liked it.

Abby said they were even better with cinnamon. Rambling on about how sugar and spice equate to everything nice and the best finger-licking of your dreams. On apple days, during breakfast you found yourself sitting at a secluded table with Abby in front of you slicing the apples so they were easier to consume. Shared amongst the two of you as your hands reached for the same slices; Abby pulled her hand away to let you have the last. 

BUT YOUR HAIR BE SMELLING LIKE FRUIT PUNCH

You enjoyed these bittersweet moments; like the apples of course. The sun beamed on Abby’s face in marigold and marmalade, as her blonde locks blew in the air slightly disheveled from when she went on patrol that day. Her fresh scent of pine, and fruit blend from her hair which was refreshing and comforting you. She took a final bite before flipping the knife down to take it back to the utensil bin for washing. Where then the two of you would part ways. It was never awkward. Eating apples in silence; you mean — because Abby had a schedule more vigorous and deathly than yours and you had other businesses to attend to. But she never would miss out on an Apple time with you. 

AND I DON’T EVEN LIKE YOU THAT MUCH

You’ve grown suspicious in recent meters. You weren’t one to talk about love either but it somehow found some way to bite back at you like the juices of the apple splattering on your lips when you would eat them.

WAIT, I DO, FUCK.

It started with suspicious packages revealing themselves outside of your door, wrapped in a delicate ribbon, with a brown paper box tied off with the most absurd cursive handwriting that you could hardly read. But somehow making out, the delicate notion of

An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Xoxo, eyes from afar.

CALL ME, AT MIDNIGHT.

So as anyone else would, at midnight, you stomped your way to Abby’s door pounding your fist into the wood until she slammed it open looking at you in bewilderment. Toothbrush in between her lips scratching her teeth; scrubbing away at any build-up as she watched you. Notioning with her hands for you to speak. She looked carefree, laidback her hair was down and she looked as though she freshly showered. 

“Thanks for the gift” you smirk, holding up the box with randomized love and self-care books with an intact nail polish set that was on top. It was a variety pack, swishes of different shades of pink and white, and even nudes to go for a clear coat; like a puff of cotton candy.

You were flattered, naturally, it was a sweet gift like a candy cane in the sweet summer breeze you wanted to just rip it out of the packaging and have a go. You also never had someone be so considerate of you. Thinking to bring you back something so pure and valuable that surely wouldn’t collect dust but you would bring out every month. You would make sure it wasn’t forgotten.

Abby furrowed her eyebrows, holding up her pointer finger motioning – one minute, running to the sink and spitting out the toothpaste rinsing her mouth off. 

“I didn’t give you that.” Abby specified, taking a washcloth to wipe at her hands and around her mouth as she let you inside.

“C’mon Abs, even if you did that’s—”

“I didn’t give that to you.” Abby’s voice was more serious this time, stern and strict with some urgency. Not that she was being rude about it, but she was trying to get you off her case. After a long day of patrolling where she did find goodies you would like along with some ribbons from a craft store along the way, Abby got to work making you a sweet delivery. After all, you deserved it. 

“But who else would know I like apples besides you!”

“Manny, Mel, Nora, Ow–”

“Okay I didn’t ask for names.” You hushed, fiddling with the box in your hand as you looked at the treats inside. Biting at your lips, it was like being given a hug but the person who gave it to you disappeared before you can offer one better, or even fully wrap your arms around them to give one back.

“This was really sweet I just wish I could give something back.” You mumbled, tilting your head down to look at the books yearningly. Amidst the violence, the blood, and the chaos, you still loved and that was what pushed you forward. That was what erupted a fire in you; triggering your passion and jumpstarting your heart like cables to a car. 

“I think you shouldn’t worry about it,” Abby suggested, not looking at you but folding her laundry to put away for safekeeping.

“What?” 

“What.” Abby shot back, acting as if she didn’t say anything prior, but you heard her well. Your friend, heart, and soul were being shifty with you; acting as if she didn’t care about your treats or that you were being admired from afar by someone with a sweet gentle heart. 

“Nevermind I’m being silly” You confessed, taking your words back and turning on your heels to leave her room.

Abby wasn’t going to let you leave. Lips parted as she watched your feet get closer and closer to the exit of the door.

LETS GIVE, THIS, THING A TRY.

“Show me.” 

You stopped walking, turning around slowly on your heels. Part of you wished it was Abby, though she would never really know. You watched the way she looked at Owen with appreciation but also disgust. How her love turned to hatred and pain. Abby wasn’t focused on you, you would think.

Abby wasn’t focused on you.

“What?”

“I said show me,” Abby confessed, her voice as clear as day, “C’mere…” Abby patted the side of her bed where she sat comfortably. 

“G‘head tell me about it. I wanna see it too” Abby gave a smile. Truth is, behind her push n’ pull —  rigid love and aggression she still hoped for you. Amidst her passive-aggressiveness, she was giving the love she felt as though she would never feel again. The permanent hole in her heart that you kept on refiling and you didn’t even know. 

She didn’t want you to slip through the cracks of her fingers just yet. Hiding behind a mask, cowardly shying herself away from you. Owen wasn’t on her mind but having you think that especially as she set off on a spree for the man who killed Jerry, would fix that. You were a liability, she wouldn’t let you go. 

You made your way down the steps, to her bed tucked in the corner nook, sitting down as you opened the package. With that you started rambling, tossing the paper apart like a kid on Christmas, showing Abby the hardcover copies with a dopey smiley on your face. Abby couldn’t contain her own smile either. Watching as you went through each nail polish shade.

“Can I try these on you?” You held up a baby pink, it was in a ballet slipper shade, which would make a good neutral against her bright skin. 

Abby wasn’t going to resist, shrugging up her shoulders against her black long-sleeve shirt, pushing the shirt up on her arms, “Sure”

So you proceeded further with painting her nails that evening, toxic paint brushing on her fingers like a canvas —  while the two of you whisked away in laughter. It was like a red string wrapped around the two of your fingers, webbing you together and pulling you closer and closer until there was no gaps or lack of air. 

It was pure and for the moment you really valued it. What you didn’t know you had until it was gone. You wished you could have hugged her a little bit longer, and learned more about her besides what she was showing you at a service level. You wanted to know Abigail, not Abby. Before it was snatched away from you with the snap of the fingers. Get the gunpowder dust off the sea salt it was time for war. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 

YOU SAID YOU LIKED MY HAIR, SO GO AHEAD AND TOUCH IT.

I like your hair today, and your necklace  xoxo, eyes from afar

Maybe it was the validation or the comments but you loved receiving the little notes wrapped in different color ribbons. Maybe you were looking forward to catching your second set of eyes. Lingering outside your door to see if they would show but it was always as if they knew your schedule. Catering to the perfect moments that you were gone to slip the delight at your door. 

The note of this week – bringing joyous to your being made you wear the delicate jewelry even more. At first, when you wore it, it was just a careless decision that you did for fun. Spontaneous and last minute as you untangled it in between your fingertips pulling out the birthstone necklace that was gifted to you from no other than Abby herself; weeks before the arrival of your secret admirer. But the moment you remembered, clasping it on around your neck was the moment you truly valued it even more. You were certainly never going to take it off. 

YOU SAID YOU LIKED THE JUMPER I WORE, SO I ALWAYS WORE IT.

But your bright radiating aura, evidently in hues of pink and purple; signs of love and wisdom was shortly dimmed by the chatter during your afternoon meal. You were set to follow Jordan to the Serevena, patrolling being the last thing you wanted to do of the evening. Endless pit in your stomach nothing felt right. The snap before everything fell apart. 

Out for blood, out for vengeance was Abigail Anderson who returned with blood on her hands. Murderer!Murderer! Red-handed girl with fury in her eyes and a golf club sharp at the end splattering everything into two. 

Wrecking havoc; causing destruction. 

That was all you heard from Jordan as you chewed through the same-old burrito that evening. That was enough to make your eardrums bleed. You could feel your heart in your ears jumping out of your chest at the whispers of Abby’s name, eyes darting from table to table to hear if anyone had caught wind of such a subject: 

I heard she… 

Can’t imagine that…

That’s terrifying…

No Abby mention.

Coincidentally amongst Abby’s absence; the snarky girl was gone with the wind, and so was your secret admirer. The deliveries stopped coming, you were alone, with a set of eyes ‘watching you’ and apples to now peel on your own. . . you found it odd, but one thing for sure was that Abby would hear from you later, where you would gush about this admirer of yours and what you imagined them to be.

IT’S REALLY NICE TO TALK TO YOU, IT’S REALLY NICE TO HOLD YOUR HAND

“Abs on a scale of 1-10 how attractive do you think my admirer is” You pondered, hands entangled in the pages of a fashion magazine. Fingers dusting away at the thin layer of grime and grey from the dust and dirt; signs of age.

“Probably like a 3” Abby confessed bluntly as she walked around her room moving vastly to pack away her belongings. 

Abby’s side of her room was neater in comparison to Manny’s, her laundry was folded, memories stored away for safekeeping, and everything was where it needed to be. Including your ribbon and the scissors she used — the bad duct tape she stole for security. 

“Really?”

“Okay, maybe a 5, it could well off be a creep,” Abby muttered as she continued to push different survival items into her bag, jacket first, followed by flashlights and extra batteries. 

“I don’t think it is though,” Abby froze, panicking instilling in her, it was like a vicious game of hot and cold, you creeping closer and closer to her and it was time for Abby to fall back and bring on the passiveness. 

“What?”

“I mean imagine this, they send me a final letter asking me to meet by the gardens where they reveal their identity to be no other than —”

“Save that for a fantasy, I’m leaving” Abby spat, cutting the happiness in the air with a thick knife which was her voice that evening. It felt like a safety net for her to drop off bad news right after you gave the good ones, almost debunking it creating a hostile environment, and shattering the rose-tinted glasses off. Then you remembered who you were talking to, what you were doing. A flower in the middle of an apocalypse, Abby being covered in thorns. 

“Is it because you killed that man”

“What makes you think it’s…who told you?” Abby furrowed her eyebrows stopping her movement to let you get a good look at her face.  Abby was looking you up and down like you ripped the bandaid off her arm like you were digging your fingers into a cut infecting it with your fingertips and any active bacteria. 

“Word travels around here pretty fast, this isn’t knew information”

A beat. And then another.

“Are you satisfied” You perk up, not breaking eye contact with the blonde in front of you. The fresh azul orbs dilating under the words that left your mouth. She looked at you with such admiration, but the mention of Jerry was enough to make Abby swing hard as she was back in the room holding her weapon of choice. Who was she to play god? Be the bearer of death? Call of evil? Abby thought back to what she was fighting for: was she satisfied? It wouldn’t bring her father back but there was a price on her head. Preferably until her life was obliterated and gone with her head. 

“Hmm”

“Because you don’t look satisfied” Your voice cracked, you were cutting into her skin and Abby was growing steadily uncomfortable, shifting her weight. Cracking her knuckles and rolling her head as she looked at you. Like a pretty Jem stone in a dimly lit room; all eyes on you she didn’t want to talk about this with you. Someone she was so emotionally connected with, god — anybody else but you.

“I…I need to go.” Abby stood up, swinging her backpack in her arms as you followed suit in the silence.

You stood up mimicking her actions taking your magazine in between your fingers and holding it close to your chest. 

“When will you be back?” you whispered, picking at the skin surrounding your nails as you rubbed your lips against each other as you rocked your body forward and backward. Abby’s eyes softened, looking at you up and down as she stuck her tongue in her cheek, clenching her jaw tightly. It almost pained her to say. 

AND EVEN IF WE’RE JUST FRIENDS, WE CAN BE, MORE THAN THAT.

“Soon…I hope, I’ll be back soon” Abby asserted. Abby bowed her head, cusping your cheeks in between her hands as she gave a chaste kiss to your cheek. Calloused fingers rubbing at your soft skin, It was a friendly thing, right? Nothing more?

She didn’t even like you that much.

But you on the other hand weren’t sure of your own feelings.

Like a tough game of tug-of-war, you wanted her, then you didn’t, then you couldn’t shake yourself out of it. You liked her and you wanted her. You wished and hoped that the admirer of yours would be her. The person you had sleepovers where you would laugh about your events and enjoy the delicacies delivered by your admirer you would have it no other way.

When she pulled away you struggled to find the words, hands jittery somewhere between reaching to grab your cheek or to wipe off her kiss with your hand. You weren’t sure how to feel. It was as if someone held a gun to your head telling you the right pill or blue.  

“May your survival be long” you reminded, holding a hand at your arm scratching at your sleeves.

“May your death be swift” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 

CALL ME AT MIDNIGHT, LETS GIVE THIS THING A TRY.

If you could do it all again you would. 

ASK YOU IF ITS OKAY,

You were alone, deep into your ocean of thoughts as your happy moments were coming to an end? Did you take it for granted? 

TO HAVE A SLEEPOVER,

The burrito you ate that evening wanting to come up, mouth sticky with bile. You suddenly didn’t want to patrol the Serevena and help Nora move supplies. It felt wrong – almost impractical like you were in the wrong place. Foot cemented into the floor as you stood at your bed. Shoving supplies into your backpack, tying a strand of the ribbon from your admirer's box around the handle of your bag. You wanted to be back at the base with Abby where the two of you would have your sleepovers, cut your apples, and have competitive matches in the shooting range where you would tell Abby she missed a shot and she would tell you, you held the gun wrong. 

Preparing to leave, doing one final spin at your place of comfort. Freshly made bed and sorrowful grey sheets, you wished for a happier time and a great release. Opening your door, you were met with one box before you would go. Picking up the lightweight box it almost felt impractical to even be wrapped. 

TO DRINK SOME APPLE CIDER, OR MAYBE SOME FRUIT PUNCH

Parting gift for the one I stole these for… don’t forget me Xoxo, A. Anderson Your eyes always 

You smiled to yourself, it was all you ever wanted. Your best friend really was your admirer and you just hoped you could reach her before she was gone and it truly could have been your last time seeing her. Unwrapping the terribly wrapped paper object revealed a shiny sharpened knife with a brown handle. It was Abby’s knife, the one she savored and used only for your apples that she would cut during your lunch breaks. Tears brimmed your eyes moving the object around as if it were malleable, smiling gently to yourself at the irony of it all. Quickly locking the door and throwing the paper that was used to wrap the gift away in the hall trash you ran to try to catch Abby who was already on the truck, across from Mel as she set off on her journey. As the sun was getting low, so were you who had to travel adjacent from your new fount lover. 

What were you gonna say?

Besides: I knew it, of course, you wanted her to know that you felt the same; in fact even more.

AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT HOW WE DON’T LIKE EACH OTHER THAT MUCH.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 

“There’s no real you are real right now”

“Shh– baby, I’m real” Abby hushed bringing up her hand to your mouth to silence you. “I’m real.”

You were currently carrying a tray of med supplies but soon it all crashed to the ground; metal tin hitting the floor as Abby backed away into a corner. She looked disheveled different than you had last seen her; whispies around her face. Like she cared a little bit more, but maybe it was because she was with you. 

You couldn’t help but bring Abby into a tight hug head against her shoulder, resting your eyes in full solitude. You were home amidst the violence and her going AWOL that had made Isaac angry with all of you. You lied thickly through your teeth when Isaac dragged you in asking questions about the location and conspiration Abby had going on.

All you could say was you didn’t know.

And it wasn’t a lie but in fact the truth there was not much you really did know. 

Abby held onto you as if you were going to be snatched out of her hands as the both of you cried. Sobbs shaking the both of you. Abby couldn’t stop herself from applying gentle kisses to the side of your head and holding at the nape of your neck during the hug.

“You look like shit!” you acknowledged pulling at the sleeve of her jacket to which Abby rolled her eyes and pulled your hand away.

“Ahh could be worse”

A beat. And another; comfortable silence filling the air between the two of you. You didn’t wanna ask but for your newfound knowledge, you had no other choice but to. You wanted her to know, hell you haven’t seen her for very long and this well could have been the last time you would ever. 

“So it was you? All along” you sputtered, snickering under your breath as you brought your hands across your chest, licking the base of your lips as your eyes wandered off.

“It was – hey! You opened the letters” Abby gave you a look of disbelief, half of it was due to her being scared shitless, others it was the fact that Abby could feel her own hands getting clammy as she rubbed them against the base of her jeans to get it to stop.

“It said 2 —”

“Weeks I know” “I was desperate”

There was silence again. 

“I could just kiss you right now I can’t believe you are alive” You blurted out, giving Abby the most gentle smile. Abby for a second felt her world move in slow motion as she stared with such unconditional love. 

“Then do it”

So you did, rushing forward, throwing your body against Abby’s as the two of you leaned in for a swift kiss. Her lips were chapped, slightly rugged but you didn’t mind applying your smooth ones to her as the movements of your body synched together in eternal sunshine. Nothing in this moment mattered, besides her lips on yours and her hands against your body. Abby’s fingers stroked at your cheeks eventually moving down between your jaw and your neck as she continued. No breaks; no air, until the sound of boots stomping closer to the room rang your ears, forcing you to pull away.

“Okay, I need supplies miserably Nora brought me to you, I have to go, I don’t know if this will be my last time seeing you: I hope it’s not, I’m not exactly in Isaac’s good graces – I think we both know that” Abby spoke with urgency, distrust but also sadness. Abby wasn’t sure but recently she’s been feeling as though things were slipping in between her fingers. She wasn’t sure how long this ecstasy and rapture would last, or the longevity of her contentment. Abby was certain the girl from the room; with the golf club and joel would show her face again.

“It’s okay” you assured, hands now at Abby’s biceps, lips rubbing against each other as you turned your head away from her face, shaking it slightly. 

“But don’t forget. . .” “I’m so incredibly infatuated by you” Abby whispered as she moved in closer to give a swift kiss to your forehead.

Now wasn’t the time for formalities or titles, but you wished with your fingers crossed and your eyes closed shut, that she would return for the conversation worth having. Full honesty and confessional where your girl that smelled of pine would tell you all her rushes of thoughts that nagged at her as she closed her eyes.

“Knife to the chest sweetheart, swing with your right not your left…it’s your better arm” Abby cautioned, pretending to bring her arm up to swing, giving a final squeeze to your cheek as she was headed for the door preparing for ground zero.

“Bye Abby” 

That was the difference, it was as if your body knew. Saying Bye instead of a see you later or, playfully threatening her to come back to you in one piece. Your eyebrows furrowed; your face scrunched as you cringed at your words, as mediocre as they sounded. You caught yourself doing that a lot and you weren’t sure why. Going from present tense to past tense. “I am” to “I did” to “I was” , this happened after you started dreaming. Dreaming that your body was against a cold tile, scrunching into a ball as you let out your last breath alone.

You knew. 

“This is not goodbye — don’t say that, it’s see you later!” Abby snapped, giving you a hand motion as she swung the door open, crouching down as she moved steadily through the room as it closed behind her with a loud CLICK! From the lock.

“I’ll see you later” Your hand went from waving to at your side as your smile dropped and abruptly the warm room felt cold. Very cold.

But you weren’t going to see her later. Body paralyzed to the floor as the bullet wound in your stomach bled crimson all over the floor. As red as the Honeycrisp apples you ate on Wednesdays. An auburn-haired girl rushes past you following the footsteps of Nora. You were crashing and your body was failing you. Whimpers of pain escaped your lips as you held onto your stomach like you had a bad stomach ache, rolling onto your side as your vision became a nuisance and blurry mess. During your last few moments, you thought of Abby and her bright smile, all the plans she had for the two of you, and how you were finally happy that you got your happy ending, 

But at what cost?

You weren’t going to get to drink apple cider with her or hug her again, and that’s what destroyed you the most as a salted tear fell from your eye. Apple was placed on the table rotting from the inside out, With Abby’s knife poked into its core. Death has met its match.

You were the apple of her eye, and you were destroyed and eaten whole indefinitely. 

taglist

@beforeimdeceased @starologist @destielcore @rarestdoll @luvrgalore @ellsss @zahraaziza @emluvselandabs @abbyily @elliestrwbrry @mossc0vered @spacewlf @as2rid @ariianelle @spaceshipellie @lottiematthewsceo @emonopolyman @imamybubbles @mikasbby @trulygnomed

© cowgirlcherrie

#cowgirlcherrie . ⁺𑁍 #cherry writes 🤍 #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby fluff #abby anderson angst #abby angst #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #abby au #abby anderson au #abigail anderson #abby x you #abby tlou #abby anderson oneshot #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x y/n #character au #the last of us x reader #tlou part 2 #secret admirer! abby #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #angst #lesbian

[keesdarlin]

☆// merry and bright (MDNI, 18+)

info! 141 + könig + keegan / fluff, established relationship + gender neutral reader

cw! no CWs

prompt! their favorite christmas/holiday activities

notes! i'm not big on christmas usually, but this seemed cute so i thought i would do a little bit of writing for it. hope you enjoy :]

KÖNIG

könig's favorite holiday activity is going to see the lights. he'll take driving through the neighborhood in a car if he has to, but he really likes making a whole night out of it. to him, going to see the lights is an entire event. you'll dress up all warm and stop on the way out to grab some hot chocolate or tea or whatever it is you fancy along with some warm snacks. then you'll find a nice neighborhood, probably packed with all the other people who had the same idea as you, and just walk through it. it's a nice way to just get out for a little bit, to bask in the fresh air and that winter chill. a nice excuse for him to spoil you a little bit with some treats and sugar. he keeps a hand on you so that you don't get swept away in the crowd and is ridiculously attentive to you. asks if you want him to go get you more hot cocoa when your cup empties. pulls you closer into his side when you complain about how cold it is. looks at all the displays that you point out and smiles for every picture. it's all very sweet, really. he just loves seeing the way your eyes shine while you're looking at all of the pretty lights.

GAZ

kyle loves taking you present shopping. he mostly likes it because you like it. window shopping, putting so much care and attention into choosing gifts for someone else, trying to figure out what you want for yourself. it's even more fun when you're doing all of the shopping in one place, preferably the mall. it's convenient and lively and full of energy. the lines are kind of a pain, but it's a little bit less annoying when he has you to talk to. he buys you whatever snacks you want while you're shopping. stopping for lunch is the best because that's prime time for people watching. you guys will just sit in the food court while listening to other people's conversations and commenting on them. makes sure that you're as comfortable as possible before you leave the house -- good shoes, comfortable clothes, hair tie on hand just in case you need it. he brings along band-aids in case you end up getting a blister. he also takes note of things that you like. he can't resist getting you a little gift or two to slip you when you're at home later.

SOAP

soap really likes the parties. really he just likes any excuse to see you all dressed up, especially for a party. add in some alcohol and he's having a great time. in his defense, what's not to like about a good party? music, free food, and some scheduled time to hang out with all of your friends, maybe catch up with some people that you haven't seen in a little while. he likes how clingy you get at parties too, all in the spirit of cuffing season and everything. you guys are basically joined at the hip, you either hanging on his arm or his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders or waist, keeping you pulled to his side. he likes the whole deal -- the themes, dressing up, having an excuse to dote on you a little extra, the coziness. he's super down to get lost in the moment of course, but he's always paying attention to you as well. all making sure your cup is full, making sure you have a plate of snacks if you're hungry or a sweater if you're cold, making sure you have someone to dance with if you feel like it. the whole event just gets him going.

GHOST

ghost really enjoys the lazy days that the holidays allow for. he just likes having the time to just exist with you. of course he loves planning dates when your busy schedules allow the both of you to see one another, but that can get a little bit high-pressure from time to time. if you're lucky enough that he's home for the holidays when you also happen to have work off, he really prefers to stay in with you. his favorite part is probably getting to sleep in late with you pulled to his chest. there's no risk of him waking up to an empty bed because you had to run off to work or go buy milk before an appointment or whatever else life throws at you. even if he wakes up before you, he can just hold you to his chest and find comfort in the sound of you breathing (and you can do that same. just listen to the beating of his heart as he sleeps beside you). when you are both finally awake, the morning is still slow to start. you stay in bed for another hour or three and take your time convincing each other to get up and start the day. it's usually simon that caves first, getting up and dragging you out of bed along with him. you both trudge to the kitchen, enjoying the coziness of your little apartment as you make tea and scrape together a lazy breakfast. from there you spend the day in your pajamas, cuddling on the couch and watching movies under a few blankets, dozing off and on, occasionally grazing on snacks.

PRICE

price usually enjoys being in the kitchen with you around the holidays. this usually consists of him being your little helper or leaning against the doorframe and rambling while you cook whatever you've set yourself to. he'll stand with you and make jokes or talk about random stuff while you roll out sheets of cookie dough or work on cooking something for dinner. to keep him occupied you'll assign him ingredients to dig through the cabinets for, really just so that you don't have to do it yourself. he'll probably find it with maximum efficiency too just so that you're not left waiting on him. he hands it to you, waits for you to measure it out, and then puts it back so that you're not losing any counter space either. and he's always bugging you for a taste of whatever you're making whether it's cookie dough or soup or whatever, but especially if it's some kind of sweet treat. if you're making cookies, you can guarantee that he'll sneak one off the cooling rack when you're not looking. would absolutely insist on making the most absurd gingerbread house with you (and would probably end up either painting you with frosting or eating it all).

KEEGAN

i'd like to think that keegan's favorite part of christmas is the snow. anything to do with the snow, really. during the first snow of the season, he drags you out to see it. it doesn't matter if you're working or sleeping or what, but cue keegan shaking you as gently as his stifled excitement can muster to come out and see it. if he's not with you when it finally start snowing, he'll call you and leave a short but sweet message about it. he loves playing in it; it's one of the only times he lets his guard down. loves snow angels, building igloos and snow men, having snowball fights, sledding. the whole nine yards. he just has a blast with it. he also teaches you how to make snow creams when you guys have the time for it (firm believer here that keegan would like his snow creams with chocolate chips). sometimes he'll go outside by himself and just sit in the snow for a little bit or stick his hand in it and feel the way it melts on his palms. it helps ground him, helps clear his head. no matter the case, he's more than happy to be able to share it with you.

#soap mactavish is clingy tell me i'm fuckin wrong #also keegan is secretly soft and sweet #and i like to think about him trying to heal his inner child #but i guess that's a little bit sappy huh #konig x reader #konig cod x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x male reader #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod x male reader #141 x reader #mdni #18+ mdni

[mochatsin]

MC GIVING GIFTS FOR THE BROTHERS

You’ve been racking up quite a ton of grimm with all the part time jobs you’ve worked in. You decided maybe you can go a bit off budget for once and spoil one of the brothers as a token of appreciation.

we stan a self-sufficient MC in this household. Just imagine your MC working in Akuber and other jobs earning that sweet grimm.

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

Lucifer

The seemingly endless amounts of paperwork that Diavolo has been leaving on his desk gave him quite the headache. He dreads going to his office every time, expecting to find another stack of student complaints and reports about his brother’s behavior. 

Surprisingly though, he finds a bottle tied with a ribbon on his desk. But when he picked up and read the label, his eyes went wide to see it’s one of the finest brands of Demonus. 

He knows his brothers well enough to cross them off the list of people to buy him this. Even if this was a prank from Satan or Belphie, the price tag is way too expensive for the both of them to even consider this. Perhaps it's the young prince then? 

After closer inspection, he does find a small card for him and he immediately knows it's from you. ‘I bought this bottle for you since you’ve been working so hard. Take a break okay? — MC’ 

It’s the little sheep doodle at the end of the card that made him chuckle. It’s adorable, he thought to himself. He smiles before taking out his D.D.D. to call you. 

“I found the bottle you left at my desk earlier today MC. You know you didn’t have to get me something so grand. I know buying this wasn’t easy.”

You explain that you bought it as thanks for all the times he got you out of the trouble the brothers would drag you in, and for making your stay in Devildom as comfortable as he can provide. 

It’s not often he receives a token of gratitude from anyone in the house. For someone to be grateful for all the work he’s done, especially when it’s coming from you, he’s touched and speechless at the gesture. 

You’ve been waiting for what seems to be a solid minute of pure silence. “Lucifer? Are you still there?” You asked, before you heard a light laugh from the other end. 

“Well… enjoying this bottle all by myself seems rather lonesome don’t you think? After work, come to my room. Let’s have a drink together, just the two of us.”

Mammon

The poor guy has been trying to rack up all the grimm he can get but it’s as if lady luck decides to turn a blind eye. The stock market dropped today and now Lucifer confiscated Goldi because of his failing marks in class. 

He’s been pretty much sulking all day. You try to cheer him up by hyping him for his next modeling gig. At least by then he’ll get some spending money right? But it doesn’t feel so comforting when you’re saying that over chat. 

You’ve been busy getting some work done in your part time jobs, which means he gets to have less time with you. Making him extra sulky. You promised to drop by his room to give him a small treat once you get home, so at least that might lift his spirits.

He was expecting maybe a free snack, since you work in Akuber after all. What he did not expect was finding you on his doorstep with a paper bag labeled ‘Evil Devitton’ and no way did you actually go there? 

He remembered the other day that he was complaining about how didn’t have any cash when the brand released a new watch. You have a little extra grimm to at least buy him this, but this is for all the times he’s helped you in Devildom (and kept you alive) since you’re ‘his first.’ 

You watched him stumble on his words and stutter, trying to think of what to say. 

“T-THE GREAT MAMMON ACCEPTS YOUR TRIBUTE!” He tries to act all cool about it. You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms. So he grumbles before letting out a soft “thank you” which makes you smile. 

You scold him though every time he’d ask for treats or gifts, since he seems to be forgetting that the watch came from all your extra hard work. You don’t want to keep enabling his bad habits after all. 

But you know that he cherishes your gifts. You found him flaunting the watch you gave him on one of his photoshoots from his latest magazine gig. 

Levi

He’s been trying his hand at this market raffle. First prize gets a limited raffle-exclusive figurine of one of his favorite characters from this new series, a sales tactic to make people buy the store’s products for one entry. 

Last you’ve heard from Levi, his luck (and his allowance) ran out from buying all he can for entry tickets, only to draw the wrong prizes. 

He’s even begged for the brothers to buy from the store for a ticket or lend him some money so he can try again. A behavior that’s modeling his older brother. This catches Lucifer’s attention and he makes Levi put a stop to his shenanigans or he’ll do something about his Akuzon account. 

Levi has been ranting to your chat while you were out finishing your shift. On the way home you decided to try your luck from that market raffle and behold, you won the first prize item. You know this means more to Levi so you went straight to his door. 

The moment he opened, he immediately complained to you when it was announced that someone won the first prize raffle. “It’s just unfair! What if it was just some normie who won it?! Or someone unfamiliar with the franchise?! They’re never gonna appreciate the figurine!!”

When you finally showed him that you won the figurine, he would be excited (and jealous of your luck) because even if it’s not his, at least he gets to admire the figurine in your room. 

He only stopped talking when you were handing it over to him, saying that he should keep it since he wants it more than you do. Eyes? Wide open. Jaw? Dropped. 

“EH?! WHY WOULD YOU GIVE ME SOMETHING SO PRECIOUS?! I'M JUST A USELESS OTAKU AND-“ he would go on but you insisted.

It’s thanks for introducing you to some of your shows that became your favorites, as well as being your gaming buddy. 

Levi.exe has stopped working. 

The next day, you find the figurine you gave him on the best spot on his shelf collection. 

Satan

Whenever you two would visit the library, he would always borrow the same book about magical spells. It covers 400 years worth of knowledge, so it was so thick that he can’t finish it in one sitting like he normally does. 

He expressed that he wished he could add that book to his ever growing collection in his room, but he can’t exactly afford the cost for the book. Not to mention that he’s way too busy with other important affairs (feeding cats) to try to earn for it.

He went home late since there was a lot of work to be done at the council, and the dead hours of night won’t ever stop him from going to his usual spot to play with the stray cats. 

He walks back up to his room only to find a big book resting on the foot of his door. Even a few feet away, he recognized the leather with gold imprinted designs and rushed towards it. 

He can’t believe the book of magical spells was at his door! How did it even get here? He sends a message to the House of Lamentation group chat to ask. 

Satan: Someone left the Index of Magical Spells at my door. Do any of you know who did?

Asmo: ohhh is that what MC has been carrying? Watching them lift that heavy book made me feel tired myself. 

Finally getting his answer, he goes straight to your room with the book in hand. You were in the middle of writing your essay for class when he barged in. 

“MC! I’ve heard from Asmo, but did you really buy this for me? This must’ve been so expensive! Not to mention really heavy…”

You explained that since you work part-time often, you’ve saved enough extra money to buy him a small thank you gift for helping you with your homework and pass your tests. It means a lot as a transfer student with little to no knowledge about this world.

“You didn’t really have to, your company is quite the treat itself. But I appreciate this. How about I help you with your essay? After that, maybe we can find some spells here that we can learn together.” 

Asmo

As an Avatar of Lust who gets gifts from fans, he’s often showered with a lot of luxury brands and products. There’s not much you can actually get him when he seems to have everything he could ever want in Devildom. 

You asked permission from Lord Diavolo to grab a few things up in the human world to bring to the House of Lamentation to make your room feel like home. 

When you got back, Asmo was curious to see what you brought with you, so you allowed him to see what you have in your room.

You have your stuffed toy, your own blankets, some more of your casual clothes (that he’d love to mix and match on you soon), and so much more personal belongings but what got him curious is that small bag you have on your desk. 

It’s a little kit with your own skincare products and personal perfume in a small container to bring along. He insists on having a whiff of your perfume and to your surprise, he loves it!

“I can’t believe it! They don’t have these kinds of scents here at Devildom! It’s probably because we don’t have the same ingredients. Ohh I'm so jealous of you right now dear! Maybe one day I can get one of my own!”

You just so happen to bring the actual bottle of perfume with you, so you dug up your luggage and offered to give him the perfume. The bottle has a very intricate design, since the brand was considered fancy in your world. 

At first he was speechless, and you explained that you appreciate the moments he took care of your skin as well as the times he’d help dress you up for any important occasion (since you didn’t have much of a wardrobe when you moved in).

He’ll squeal in delight before giving you the biggest hug “DARLING! You have no idea how much this means to me!!!” 

He’d brag to his brothers about receiving a gift from the human world by his beloved MC. Lucifer had to stop them when they also wanted to ask for gifts from you as well, saving you from the brothers trying to raid your room.

Beel

Beel has been studying hard lately since his grades haven’t been doing so well. Compared to Mammon’s, he’d say his grades are fine but if he doesn’t do better in his next test then Lucifer isn’t gonna lift the curse on the fridge that’s preventing him from getting his midnight snacks. 

It’s difficult for him when his hunger preoccupies his mind way too often to focus. Sometimes he’d eat his homework when he can’t handle it anymore, and that’s not a good excuse against Lucifer.

There was a soft knock on his door and when he opened it, he found you holding two big bag of chips in your arms. They were so massive he barely saw your head when you carried it. 

You told him that while you were out, you managed to buy a couple bags of chips, cheese puffs, and sweets that you stored in your room. You offered to sneak him a couple snacks for him, as long as he promises not to tell Lucifer about your secret stash. 

“MC, you’re an absolute lifesaver right now” he says as he grabs a bag and starts snacking down on it. It was gone in 5 minutes, but it helped bring him back to focus. 

You ask if he needs any help but he tries to refuse “you’ve already done so much for me though MC… you don’t have to teach me” 

You insisted. Beel was the one who helped introduce you to some Devildom dishes that were safe for humans to consume, and he’s the one that reminds you to eat if you ever forget. Helping him by giving him your snacks is a small token of your appreciation. 

For a few nights, Beel would chat if you’re free and you’d go visit his room with a few snacks while you help him go over the lessons. 

With your help, he did a lot better at his tests much to Lucifer’s surprise. 

Belphie

Belphie was beyond angry right now. He was trying to take a nap in the garden, and he found a perfect spot to remain undisturbed. 

Mammon, under Lucifer’s punishment, was in charge of gardening duty. He didn’t know about his baby brother sleeping in the bushes when he turned on the sprinklers. Now Belphie was awake, drenched, and furious. 

His favorite cow pillow had to be dried out, as well as some of his clothes that got soaked. 

You heard about everything through Beel, he was worried about Belphie not getting enough sleep because he lost his pillow and has nothing to cuddle with. So when you got home, you made a quick stop at this nearby shop to buy him a little present. 

Belphie was struggling to get some proper shut eye, not after Mammon ruined his afternoon nap and getting scolded by Lucifer when they ended up fighting and ruined the garden. 

He felt something soft press against him and when he fluttered his eyes, he saw that you were holding this big cow stuffed toy with you. 

You apologized for waking him. He asks what that’s for and you explain that heard what happened to his pillow. Beel told you about how much he wanted it, so you went ahead and got it for him. 

It was your gift, since Belphie was always the one to remind you to rest. He would be the first to see the signs that you haven’t been getting enough sleep, so he would always remind you or even nap with you. 

He has this soft smile on his face when he hugs the stuffed toy. It was so soft, just as he imagined it would be when he first saw it on display. 

“MC… thanks. I hope that I’ll get to dream of you while hugging this… actually, come here. Let’s take a nap together, you’ve been working so hard lately. You need to rest.” 

Belphie was able to peacefully sleep with the cow stuffed toy in his arms, resting with a smile on his face.  

------------ OKAY THE COINCIDENCE??? IT’S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE BC as I was writing this I was actually stumped on what MC can give Mammon THEN I GET A CHAT ABOUT THE WATCH THAT HE WANTS!?!?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

[throneofsmut]

BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 7

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

A / N: Sorry this took so long, work has been a shit show for the past two weeks and i have a fucking cold that makes me feel like a dying victorian child. Also the wolf in this part ( you’ll know once you get to that part of fic ) is basically like the wolves from twilight. Size wise at least. But still it’s a little bigger than that. He's also heavily inspired by Tairn from fourth wing. Him and reader's bond is similar to the bond Violet and Tairn have.

My tear stained cheek was pressed against my bent knee as I sat before the Yew Tree where the Summer Court Faerie was now buried. Fingers pulling and ripping the plush green spring grass beneath me.

Warm tears continued to wet my skin as I sat there and quietly said the prayer usually said when an Illyrian passed.

Voice cracking as I recited it, grateful that no one was around to hear the grief that was thick in my throat for a faerie I didn’t even know.

“Once soaring through skies with grace and might.

Now grounded and wounded in a fateful plight.

Though grounded they stand their soul takes flight.

Denying a flightless fate welcoming death's sweet embrace.

May the wings that once soared high carry their spirit to eternal skies.

So let us remember the fallen ones who will now become a star and be one with the night.

May they fly in the beautiful skies of immortal land of milk and honey.

Feel the wind beneath their wings.

The warm breeze a loving caress against skin.

As they lose themselves in the songs of the wind once again.”

Looking up at the stars, you searched the skies, as if you’d be able to see a whisper of the Summer Court faerie flying above you. Free from pain and suffering. Free from Amarantha. Letting out a deep sigh when you didn’t and stared at the grave at the base of the Yew Tree. You sniffled and then let out a shuddering breath, “I am so sorry I was late. Maybe—maybe if I had gone Under the Mountain as soon as I got into Prythian, Amarantha would’ve been too focused on me to take your wings.” Pulling out a small dagger from your pocket, cutting across your palm, letting your blood flow onto the earth. “Before I kill her or before she kills me… I’ll kill whoever she ordered to butcher you—your wings.” You swore.

Too drained to care to wrap your hand, you just sat there letting the darkness of the night comfort you. As it always did. But then you heard it: almost like a whisper, as if cloth were dragging over root and stone.

Nostrils flaring as you scented the air, without a doubt knowing who it was. The tall, thin veiled figure in dark tattered robes, came to sit next to me.

Then slowly, it turned to me, the dark veil draped over its bald head blowing in a phantom breeze. “Hello, Darkling.” Click, click went its fingers against each other, one for each word.

“Hello, old friend.”

The Suriel sniffed the air, once. Twice. “You’re bleeding.” Its fingers clicking again. You didn’t look at them, not even as its robes rustled as if it was looking for something. Then you heard the sound of cloth tearing. A moment later it’s too long fingers gently gripped my hand—carefully—to not touch the cut on my palm. Then it wrapped the piece of their torn robe around my hand. Squeezing my fingers before putting my now bandaged hand back in my lap. “She knows you’re in Prythian. She’s hunting you.”

“I know.”

“The faeries she sends into these lands are hunting you, faeries like the naga,” It said, its voice was at once one and many, old and young, beautiful and grotesque. “Her ilk will continue to invade these lands on her orders. To find you.”

I felt the Suriel’s eyes on me as I looked down at my wrapped hand. Then at the Suriel. They had torn the cleanest part of their robe to bandage me. “Thank you,” I gave them a small smile, it was all I could muster at the moment and they nodded their head in understanding.

“You know you’re being hunted, so why are you still out here all alone.” Not a question, but a mere fact.

As if on cue the grass brush a couple yards in front of you rustled, the Suriel and you looked up and you smiled knowing who was there. Without looking away from the blue glowing eyes that were now set on you, “I’m not alone.”

The Suriel only chuckled, “No, you are not.”

Moment of silence passed before you spoke again, “You know if I knew you were coming I would’ve brought you a new cloak,” You glanced at the old tattered cloak they wore.

“Well, I didn’t have time to schedule an appointment, my lady.” They said sarcastically, earning a chuckle from you.

“Fair enough, meet me here tomorrow night and I’ll bring you a new cloak.”

Their dark tattered robes rustled as they stood and placed a hand on my shoulder, “Thank you,” It’s fingers clicking in time with the words it spoke. Then they looked toward the grass brush again where those glowing blue eyes still watched us, “Get her back to the manor. It’s not safe out here.” All the Suriel got back was a low growl in response.

You don’t know how much time passed after the Suriel left, didn’t care, all that mattered were those blue eyes that stared back at you. Slowly you stood up from your spot in the grass and walked towards the grass brush. The same time you stood up, it did too, but it didn’t make a move. It was unnaturally still and silent. Until you spoke his name, “Raihn.” So quiet, it was barely a whisper but you know he heard by the way his ears twitched.

Then it was walking out to meet you, slowly. Menacingly.

“Raihn… It’s me. It’s me, Y/n” I whispered, I didn’t know who could be out here. Listening. Watching. He stalked closer, the night shielding most of him, all I could see were his eyes. Until he was right in front of me. Illuminated by the moonlight I could finally see him. He was bigger than I remembered, then again that was 10 years ago. He had always been huge but now he was massive. His fur was pure white and he had to be at least 10 feet in length and nearly 6 feet tall from paw to shoulders.

“Raihn, it’s me. Please. Please, you have to remember me.” My eyes filled with tears as I pleaded to him. He had to remember me, because I could never forget him.

My mother told me that her mother used to tell her stories about a rare species of wolves that hailed from the north. From deep in the mountains of the Night Court. They only ever bonded with the Lords and Princes of Illyria, if they were loyal, cunning, brave and possessed the raw killing power. The wolves used to fight beside them in battle and the more killing power the Illyrian possessed then the stronger the bond between them was. If the bond was strong enough they could channel power into each other but, if one of them was killed in battle the other would fall too even if they were physically unharmed.

It had been centuries since the last wolf had bonded with an Illyrian. Until me. Since I could remember, Raihn had always been by my side until I had to disappear.

My lips quivered as I spoke, voice cracking, “Raihn,” I slowly stuck my hand out so he could scent me. His snout twitched, once. Then twice. He looked back at me—assessing—then growled, so low, I felt the ground beneath me shake.

The massive wolf’s lips curled back as he bared his teeth inches away from my face. I know he’s confused because he can still scent my true scent beneath the blood spell my mother used on me. Which also changed my physical appearance. If only I could touch him, then I could talk to him and he could talk to me.

I let out a sharp breath, knowing what I had to do. I tried to brace myself for the pain I knew I was about to feel, it would only allow him to see me—the real me if only for a couple seconds. But still he would see me and then he’d remember who I am to him.

“Nochd.”

As soon as I uttered the word which meant reveal in the old language, my entire body felt as if it was being ripped apart yet it put back together. My veins felt as if they were on fire by the coldest flames. Gasping for breath felt like I was drowning in scorching hot water, my lungs expanding and constricting. And my head felt like it was going to explode.

Then nothing.

It was nearly dawn when I felt something nudging my face and hand. I could barely hear the whimpers over the blood roaring through my ears. My entire body felt heavy and sore as I lifted my hand and felt fur: soft and warm.

Raihn.

His head was still nudging my face. So I turned to look at him, really look at him. He has deep scarred scratches on the right side of his face but he wasn’t blinded. And most of his right ear was gone, “You’re as beautiful as the day I last saw you.” He flinched hearing my voice, hoarse from the pain inflicted from the blood spell.

You’re hurt. Stop talking, he orders, his voice deep and gruff.

Letting out a hiss as I sat up. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

He growled in response, Do not do that ever again. You almost died.

“Well, it’s your fault you didn’t recognize me. I had to show you it was me.” I tried to reason.

So it's my fault that you smell like you but don't look like you. How was I supposed to know. He argued.

I shrugged, “At least you know now.”

Yes, but you don't know how I felt all these years, not knowing if you would come back or if you were safe!

“I miss you too.” I chuckled.

Get on. He ordered.

I scoffed, “I can walk,” but made no move to stand.

I didn't ask. Now get on.

Raihn moved so he was laying next to me as close as he could without squishing me. All I had to do was hold onto the scruff of his neck and roll over to get on his back. I took in a deep breath and let it out once I was on his back. Cursing as he stood up, the movement jostling my sore body.

Don't be rude, he says, looking over his shoulder at me, before he huffs. You're bleeding. Stop it.”

It’s my turn to huff, “Don’t be rude,” I sit up a bit, wiping the blood coming from my nose. “Let’s just go back to the manor.”

****

The ride back to the Spring Court Manor was quiet but not uncomfortable. The both of us content with just being in each other’s presence.

None of the sentries stationed around the Manor said anything to me about the dry blood now stained underneath my nose. Or the massive wolf who was carrying my limp body inside. They only moved out of the way, letting us both pass.

As Raihn stalked into the alabaster manor and up the stairs to your room the servants let out shocked gasps. Some stood frozen in shock and when they didn’t move he growled, baring his teeth in warning.

I swatted his foreleg lightly, “Hey, be nice.”

They're the ones that need to be nice. It's not polite to stare.” He reasoned as he growled at another servant.

Once we finally got to my room he layed back down so I could get off and I slowly trudged to the en-suite bathroom. Quickly washing up and putting on a fresh night gown to sleep in. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror, I already knew my face was puffy from crying.

Walking back into the bedroom, going straight to the closet to pull out pillows and comforters. I laid them on the floor before the foot of the bed for Raihn to sleep on.

Making my way back to my bed and crawling under the covers, the wolf took that as his cue to lay down too. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. The last thing I heard was Raihn’s voice, I missed you too.

No nightmares plagued you that night as you got the best sleep you had in over 10 years.

****

You awoke a little before noon to the sound of Raihn’s growl and Lucien’s voice.

“Mother’s tits!” Lucien whisper-yelled, his hands held up like he was trying to show Raihn he meant no harm.

Raihn only lowered his head and growled even louder, baring his teeth at the red haired male. Lucien’s throating bobbing as he remained still. “Relax, fox boy.”

Lucien didn’t look at you as he asked, “Does he bite?”

“Not me.” He didn’t have to look at me to know I was smirking.

“Y/n, please!”

I huffed, “Fine. Raihn stop scaring him.”

The large wolf turn his head slowly to face me, Is he a friend?

“Uh, no, not really.” I answered his question.

Lucien's eyes flickered between Raihn and I, “No, what?”

“He asked if you were a friend.”

“And you said no!”

I shrugged, “You never asked me.”

Raihn stalked closer and Lucien began apologizing, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Getting up from the bed to stand between, hissing when I moved too fast, Raihn snapped his head at me, Get back in bed, he ordered.

I patted his side, “Stop fussing, I’m fine,” pushing him further back into the room to give Lucien some space. “What are you doing in here anyway, Lucien?”

“Tamlin wants to take Feyre on a ride, to show her something.”

“And,” I arched a brow at him, even though he was still looking at the wolf behind me.

He finally looked at me, his mouth opening and then closing, before opening again, “And… I want to take you.”

“All right.”

“All right?”

“Yeah, just let me change.” I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else as I pushed him out the door and got ready. Raihn huffing behind me.

****

By the time Raihn and I got to the front doors, Tamlin, Lucien and Feyre were already saddled on their horses.

Again no one said anything, Tamlin and Feyre were just gaping in shock and Lucien was just staring as Raihn lowered himself so I could get on his back. Once I was seated he began walking, Lucien’s horse keeping pace beside us.

Then Tamlin came up on our other side, “Is that a wolf?”

“Are we in the Spring Court?”

“Yes.” He answered.

“Then yes, Tamlin. This is a wolf.” Lucien snorted beside me as I patted Raihn’s neck. Tamlin glared at him and he pretended to cough.

“Is he your pet ?” Raihn’s responding growl made the High Lord stiffen.

“No,” I laughed. “No, he’s not. Raihn and I are Ceangailte."

Tamlin’s face paled as he looked at Lucien but Lucien was looking at me. Then he whispered, “You’re bonded to each other.”

“Yes, Lucien, we are.”

Raihn let out a pleased noise and you smiled softly.

“What’d he say?” Lucien asked.

“I am his and he is mine, from now until the darkness claims us.”

****

When we finally arrived at the place Tamlin wanted to show Feyre, it was an hour or two past noon. The light still thick and golden. It was a glen, a beautiful glen.

Lucien had already sat down on the blanket they brought and Tamlin had gone to where Feyre was a couple feet ahead.

“Y/n,” he patted the space on the blanket next him, “sit.”

You looked at him and then back at the trail beyond, “Uh, I think I’m gonna go for a walk… Thank you though.”

“I’ll go with you.” The male was on his feet and next to you before you could say it wasn’t necessary. “Lead the way.”

“Raihn, Stay.” He huffed in annoyance at your order but stayed put.

You and Lucien walked the trail for a bit before veering off in the opposite direction of the pool of starlight. You couldn’t look at it without being homesick for a home you’d never been to. The walk was quiet, the both of you content in just listening to the birds around you singing along with the trees and the sounds of their leaves rustling. But, Lucien broke the silence.

“Are you alright after last night?”

I looked at him, brows furrowed before shaking my head no. “Are you?”

He sighed, “No.”

I know I shouldn’t ask but curiosity killed the cat and I was the cat. “Did she—did Amaratha do that to you?” I asked softly, gesturing to his scarred eye.

He visibly tensed, jaw clenched as he gave me a tight nod.

“I’m sorry.” And I meant it too. Making a silent promise to scar her face just like she’d scarred his.

He stopped walking and I turned to look at him. Lucien searched my face for any insincerity and when he found none he merely thanked me. Then continued to walk.

We walked until we came across a beautiful bluish green colored lake with a dock. Lucien bent down to roll up his pants and take off his boots. “What are you doing?”

“We are going to dip our toes in the water, sweetheart,” his lips settling into a playful smirk.

Lucien sat beside you on doc, his hands splayed behind him as the both of you kicked your feet gently through the water. You were lost in your own thoughts while staring at the rippling water that you didn’t hear him calling to you.

“Y/n!” He whispered.

“What?”

His eyes were wide and the corners of his mouth were upturned as he gestured in front of you, across the narrow lake. Where dozens upon dozens of different animals were staring at you but, standing proud front and center was the Ruler of the Forest.

But you knew the huge white stag with great antlers as the Lord of the North.

He stretched out one of his forelegs and bent the other, before bowing his head. His dark eyes never left mine as I bowed my head to him in return. Then he and the other animals left and it was as if they were never there.

Lucien cleared his throat, getting your attention, “Listen, I don’t know who or what you are but, I know you’re different.” If he saw you tense he didn’t mention it. “You don’t have to tell me. Yet, because you’re different I’m gonna tell you something.” I finally looked at him and nodded for him to continue.

He let out a deep sigh before he began to speak again, “I’ve endured things that make times like last night. . . difficult. Not just the scar and the eye—though last night brought back memories of that, too.” I turned so I could face him better and he met my gaze. “I am the youngest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court." I straightened. "The youngest of seven brothers. The Autumn Court is. . . cutthroat. Beautiful, but my brothers see each other only as competition, since the strongest of them will inherit the title, not the eldest. It is the same throughout Prythian, at every court.”

Which was the reason my mother used a blood spell on me because I was already showing the physical markers of a High Lord's heir. And I was female so that made it even more rare.

“I never cared about it, never expected to be crowned High Lord, so I spent my youth doing everything a High Lord's son probably shouldn't: wandering the courts, making friends with the sons of other High Lords and being with females who were a far cry from the nobility of the Autumn Court." He paused for a moment, and I could almost feel the sorrow before he said, "I fell in love with a faerie whom my father considered to be grossly inappropriate for someone of his bloodline. I told him I didn't care that she wasn't one of the High Fae, that I was certain the mating bond would snap into place soon and that I was going to marry her and leave his court to my scheming brothers." He paused again. His jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to will away the tears pooling in his eyes, to no avail. "My father had her put down. Executed, in front of me, as two of my eldest brothers held me and made me watch."

My own eyes had started to fill with tears and Lucien gave me a sad smile when the first one fell down my cheek.

“So… I left. Cursed my father, abandoned my title and the Autumn Court, and walked out. And without my title protecting me, my brothers thought to eliminate one more contender to the High Lord's crown. Three of them came out to kill me; one came back."

"You… killed them?"

"I killed one," He said. "Tamlin killed the other, as they had crossed into his territory, he was High Lord and could do what he wanted with trespassers threatening the peace of his lands." A cold, brutal, honest statement. "He claimed me as his own—named me emissary, since I'd already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people, while he... can find it difficult. I’ve been here ever since."

"As emissary," I began, "have you ever had dealings with your father? Or your brothers?"

"Yes. My father has never apologized, and my brothers are too frightened of Tamlin to risk harming me. But I have never forgotten what they did to her, or what my brothers tried to do to me."

It didn't quite excuse everything Lucien had said and done to us, but... I understand now. I could understand the walls and barriers he had no doubt constructed around himself. My chest was too tight, to say anything to him. I knew it wouldn’t comfort him, so I did the only thing I could think of and hugged him. A couple seconds went by and I realized he might not hug me back but when I made to pull away, he gripped my tunic so tightly before he began sobbing into me.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I wasn’t going to pull away until he did, he needed this. Needed to go through every emotion he’s kept bottled up. And I just rubbed his back and smoothed his long red hair back as he did.

The sun was near setting when Lucien finally pulled away from me and wiped his tear stained cheeks with the sleeve of his tunic. He gave me a sad smile, voice still tight from crying, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” my voice a gentle murmur.

“Gods, I haven’t cried like that in ages.” He said, letting out a chuckle.

“You have too every now and again, it’s good for the soul.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Raihn’s deep, gruff voice sounded in my head, Come back, we're leaving.

All right.

I stood up, putting my boots back on, “Let’s go, Raihn we’re heading back.”

“Alright.” Lucien sniffled before getting to his feet and putting his own boots back on.

****

Feyre seemed tired but surprisingly content from the few hours of swimming and eating and lounging in the glen, she eyed Lucien as we rode back to the manor that afternoon. We were crossing a broad meadow of new spring grass when he caught her glancing at him for the tenth time, and I braced myself as he fell back from Tamlin’s side.

The metal eye narrowed on her while the other remained wary, unimpressed. “Yes?”

That was enough to persuade me not to say anything about his past. I would hate pity, too. And he didn’t know me—not well enough to warrant anything but resentment if I brought it up, even if it weighed on me to know it, to grieve for him.

She waited until Tamlin was far enough ahead that even his High Fae hearing might not pick up on her words but I did. “I never got to thank you for your advice with the Suriel.”

Lucien tensed. “Oh?”

I looked at Tamlin beside me, the horse utterly unbothered by his mighty rider. “If you still want me dead,” she said, “you might have to try a bit harder.”

Lucien loosed a breath. “That’s not what I intended, I wouldn’t shed any tears,” he amended. I knew it was true and she probably did too. “But what happened to you—”

“I was joking,” Feyre chuckled.

“You can’t possibly forgive me that easily for sending you into danger.”

“No. And part of me would like nothing more than to wallop you for your lack of warning about the Suriel. But I understand: I’m a human who killed your friend, who now lives in your house, and you have to deal with me. I understand,” She repeated.

He was quiet for long enough that I thought he wouldn’t reply. Just as I was about to drop back, he spoke. “Tam told me that your first shot was to save the Suriel’s life. Not your own.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.” I heard him reach for something at his side and tossed it to her. She had to fight to stay in the saddle as she fumbled for it—a jeweled hunting knife.

“I heard you scream, and I hesitated. Not long, but I hesitated before I came running. Even though Tam got there in time, I still broke my word in those seconds I waited.” He jerked his chin at the knife. “It’s yours. Don’t bury it in my back, please.”

I turned this time to look at him and he gave me a genuine smile and a nod of his head.

My gaze flickered between the both of them, Feyre now inspecting the knife and him giving me a friendly smile—a silent question. So I smiled back and nodded my head in return, friends then.

****

I gave Raihn a reassuring smile, “I’ll be careful, I promise,” while I finished securing my ash daggers to my body.

I will accompany you.

“No.”

You will be safer with me by your side, he argued.

I sighed, “I’m not saying you’re wrong but, I can’t exactly sneak out with a huge wolf next to me, can I?” His annoyed huff was answer enough as he laid down on the comforters and pillows you had set on the floor for him. Petting the soft fur atop his head, “Sleep, I’ll be back before you know it.”

You know I won’t sleep until you return.

****

You made your way through the quiet empty halls of the manor, down the staircase and to the door leading towards the garden doors. The sentries were changing shifts and you knew Lucien was on patrol tonight so you took the opportunity, running towards the north-eastern part of the woods. The new cloak you promised the Suriel in hand as you made your way to meet them near the yew tree.

Their fingers clicked twice, “You came,” as they spoke .

“When have I not?” I asked, while offering them the cloak. Looking around as the leaves on the surrounding trees and bushes rustled. Ears straining to hear if something—someone was there.

The Suriel grabbed the cloak and cradled it to their chest, “Thank you, princess—“

“—You don’t have to thank me and I’m not a princess. Not anymore.”

They bent down on a knee, “For the kindness you have always shown me,” bowing his head, “you will always be a princess to me.”

Placing a hand on their bony shoulder, “Thank you, old friend.” You heard leaves rustling again, nostrils flaring scenting the air, “Go, someone’s here.”

“Be safe. I do not know when I will see you again but, I have to tell you. You have to know.”

“Know what?” My brows furrowed as I glanced around trying to see if someone was hiding the shadow covered trees.

“Your mate,” Those two words made me snap my gaze back to the Suriel. “Like you, has fire in their blood. You will find each other on Calanmai. You have always been meant to burn together.”

I felt paralyzed, “What,” felt my heart pounding, “Who… I have a mate?” I said those last four words so quietly I didn’t think the Suriel heard me until they spoke again.

They chuckled, “Yes, darkling, you have a mate. The both of you bound in flames. Bound to each other. He is heir to Autumn and you are heir to Spring. Be safe, Princess, you are of age now and will be affected by Fire Night’s magic.” The Suriel bowed again, “Till we meet again, Princess,” and walked into the dark woods.

I don’t know how long I stood there in shock that I had a mate and in fear that Amarantha would find out and kill him.

I stuck to the shadows as always, making my way back to the manor, my mind reeling with possibilities from the information the Suriel gave me before they left. I was practically in a trance when Lucien stopped me, still sitting atop his beautiful mare, “Why are you out here so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. So I came out for a walk.”

He smirked knowingly, “Want to try that again, Princess?”

“Is there a curfew I don’t know about? Am I not allowed to come and go when I want.” Fuck. He heard the Suriel address me as Princess. He was who I heard and scented. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Did he know his brother is my mate?

Lucien chuckled as he swung a powerful leg over his horse, dismounting the beautiful mare and stalking towards me, leaning down so we were face to face, “Who—what are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shrugged, keeping my face an unreadable mask.

He let out a laugh, which sounded more bitter than amused, “So I open up to you, essentially baring my heart and soul to you and you won’t even tell me your real name!”

I didn’t try to cover the hurt that flashed across my face, as he yelled, “I did tell you my name. Y/n is my name, I haven’t lied about that!”

“But you are lying!”

“No! I just… I just haven’t told you everything.”

“Why?” His narrowed eyes—one russet and one metal—searched my face.

Before I could give him an answer, Raihn’s powerful body was in between us, he gave Lucien a warning. A low growl to back off.

Lucien immediately stepped back, with his hands up showing Raihn he was unarmed. My wolf growled once more, his lip curled back in a snarl, Did he harm you?

“No,” I mumbled.

No, what ? Raihn asked tightly.

“No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Tell him if he does, I will take his remaining eye and eviscerate him where he stands.

I furrowed my brows and couldn’t stop the burst of laughter from leaving my lips as I howled in laughter, “That’s a little dramatic but, no. I’m not telling him that.”

Tell him or I will take his remaining eye.

My mouth opened but Lucien’s voice cut me off, “Tell me what?”

I looked at Lucien, then at Raihn, “I’m not telling him.”

Tell. Him. Now. The massive wolf order.

“Fine,” I huffed, rolling my eyes, “Raihn said that if you hurt me he will take your remaining eye and eviscerate you where you stand.” Turning to look at Raihn again, even though he was still focused on Lucien, “Happy?”

Not even close.

Lucien’s face turned a sickly pale, no doubt imagining the painful painting Raihn, painted for him. Without another word he turned and mounted his horse. Before he could set her into a walk I spoke, “I wish I could tell you but I can’t. I just can’t, I’m sorry.”

He only nodded his head once and then left.

****

Weeks passed, the days melting together.

The first couple weeks everyone was afraid of Raihn, especially Alis, since she’d just come into my room and he snapped at her. At least he’d been sorry but since then she was wary of him. Feyre got used to him, Tamlin and Lucien did too. The other servants just tried to avoid him.

Lucien never talked about the night we had argued and Tamlin never said anything about it either. Instead Lucien just pretended it had never happened, which somehow bothered me more.

Feyre and Tamlin had grown closer over time. Well that’s what she told me at least; gentle, soft kisses, and longing touches. He’d even gifted her art supplies and given her a space to paint. The smile she’d given you when she told you was pure happiness and you wanted her stay like that—happy. All she wanted before was time and tools to paint and now she had them so, paint she did. She never wanted anyone to see them but she would let me and ask for my opinion on certain colors. Sometimes she dared to paint the High Lord, who rode at her side when they wandered his grounds on lazy days — the High Lord, whom she was happy to talk to or spend hours in comfortable silence with. While I spent my days with Lucien or the other sentries; patrolling and training.

Just like today, Lucien and I were getting ready to change shifts and were heading back towards the manor. We cleared the little wood, a spread of hills and knolls laid out ahead. In the distance, there were masked faeries atop many of them, building what seemed to be unlit fires. I halted, they were setting up for Fire Night.

He halted beside me, “They’re setting up bonfires—for Calanmai—Fire Night. It’s in two days,” he explained.

Fire Night. My brows furrowed and I shook my head.

“It’s just a spring ceremony. We light bonfires, and the magic that we create helps regenerate the land for the year ahead.”

I clenched and unclenched my hands, “I know what it is.”

He rubbed his neck, “Oh. It’s just the way you said it, I thought you didn’t know what it was.”

“No, I just didn’t know it was in two days.” I shook my head again and gave Raihn the silent command to start walking again. Lucien did the same with his horse.

“You might see more faeries around than usual—faeries from this court, and from other territories, who are free to wander across the borders that night.”

I nodded my head before letting out a sharp breath, “I thought Amarantha had scared most of them away or trapped them Under the Mountain,” I glanced back at the unlit bonfires hoping that they wouldn’t be there. That maybe I was seeing things but they were still there.

“She has—but there will be a number of them. Just... stay away from them all. You’ll be safe in the house, but if you run into one before we light the fires at sundown in two days, ignore them.”

“I'm not staying in the house.”

It was his turn to halt this time, “Yes. You are.”

“No. I’m not.” I didn’t give him the chance to argue before telling Raihn mind to mind to get me into the house. Then to go wait in my room while I hid behind a massive pot in the garden.

I saw the moment Tamlin went rigid—it was quiet with that horrible stillness that usually meant one of Amarantha’s ilk was around. Tamlin bared his teeth at… Feyre. Fuck. “Stay hidden, and no matter what you overhear, don’t come out,” He ordered her.

Then he was gone.

She looked to either side of the gravel path, like some gawking idiot. I hoped she wouldn’t move because if she did she would fuck everything up. She had just ducked behind a hedge when I heard Tamlin and Lucien approaching. I silently swore and froze. Then Tamlin’s snarl rippled through the air on the other side of the hedge she was hiding behind.

“I know what day it is,” Tamlin said—but not to Lucien. To the Attor. Him and his brothers still plagued my dreams.

“Your continued behavior is garnering a lot of interest at court,” the Attor said, deep and sibilant. I shivered, despite the warmth of the day. “She has begun wondering—wondering why you haven’t given up yet. And why four Naga wound up dead not too long ago.”

“Tamlin’s not like the other fools,” Lucien snapped, his shoulders pushed back to raise himself to his full height, more warrior-like than I’d yet seen him.“If she expected bowed heads, then she’s more of an idiot than I thought.”

The Attor hissed, and my blood went cold at the noise. “Speak you so ill of she who holds your fate in her hands? With one word, she could destroy this pathetic estate. She wasn’t pleased when she heard of you dispatching your warriors.” The Attor now seemed turned toward Tamlin. “But, as nothing has come of it, she has chosen to ignore it.”

There was a deep-throated growl from the High Lord, but his words were calm as he said, “Tell her I’m getting sick of cleaning up the trash she dumps on my borders.”

The Attor chuckled, the sound like sand shifting. “She sets them loose as gifts—for me—and reminders of what will happen if she catches you trying to break the terms of—”

“He’s not,” Lucien snarled. “Now, get out. We have enough of your ilk swarming on the borders we don’t need you defiling our home, too. For that matter, stay the hell out of the cave. It’s not some common road for filth like you to travel through as they please.”

Tamlin loosed a growl of agreement.

The Attor laughed again, such a horrible, vicious sound. “Though you have a heart of stone, Tamlin,” it said, and Tamlin went rigid, “you certainly keep a host of fear inside it.” The Attor’s voice sank into a croon. “Don’t worry, High Lord.” It spat the title like a joke. “All will be right as rain soon enough.”

“Burn in Hell,” Lucien replied for Tamlin, and he laughed again before a flap of leathery wings boomed, a foul wind bit my face, and everything went silent.

They breathed deeply after another moment. I closed my eyes, needing a steadying breath as well but Feyre yelped. I stood without hesitating, my ash daggers in hand.

“It’s gone,” Tamlin said, releasing her. It was all I could do not to sag against the hedges.

“What did you hear?” Lucien demanded—from the both of us, coming around the corner and crossing his arms. I shifted my gaze to Tamlin’s face, but found it to be so white with anger—anger at that thing—that I had to look again at Lucien.

“Nothing—I... well, nothing I understood,” Feyre said, and meant it.

I looked back at Tamlin as I said one word, “Everything.”

“If the Attor saw them—” Lucien said, glancing around.

“It didn’t,” Tamlin said.

“Are you certain it—”

“It didn’t,” Tamlin growled over his shoulder, then looked at Feyre and I, his face still pale with fury, lips tight. “I’ll see you both at dinner.”

Understanding a dismissal, and craving the locked door of my bedroom, I trudged back to the house, contemplating telling Feyre who Amarantha was and why she was able to make Tamlin and Lucien so nervous and to command that thing as her messenger. But I couldn’t and I hated myself for it.

****

After a tense dinner during which Tamlin hardly spoke to Lucien, Feyre or me, I walked out onto the balcony that was attached to my room and climbed onto the roof. I slept under the stars that night.

I went outside the following day but didn’t venture into the woods. Raihn and I were merely sprawled underneath an Oak Tree that was near the house’s private garden. Alis brought breakfast and lunch to me knowing I wouldn’t have eaten otherwise. Too lost in the thought of tomorrow being Fire Night, the thought of meeting my mate and what would or could happen.

She had tried asking me what was wrong but I couldn’t tell her. How could I when my mates life was at risk just because he was mated to me. I knew Alis wouldn’t tell anyone if I asked her not too yet, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The instinct to protect my mate at all costs was overriding everything.

****

The day of Fire Night—Calanmai dawned, and I didn’t see Tamlin or Lucien all day. As the afternoon shifted into dusk, I found myself sliding my blue cloak so dark it was nearly black over my shoulders as I headed towards the doors of my balcony, Raihn following close behind, “Stay here. No one can see you.”

He growled.

I sighed, making my way towards him.

Once I was face to face with him, I cradled his head in my hands, pressing my forehead to his, “Please. You have to stay here. They’re not only hunting me and… and if something were to happen to you. I—I wouldn’t survive it. And it wouldn’t be because of the bond. I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.”

And if you get hurt… He let out a distressed whine at the thought.

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

I heard him inhale, scenting me as if I wouldn’t be coming back. Without another word I walked out onto the balcony, giving Raihh a smile reserved only for him, then jumped off.

The sound of drums issued.

The drumbeats came from far away—beyond the garden, past the game park, into the forest that lay beyond. They were deep, probing. A single beat, echoed by two responding calls. Summoning.

I stood, staring out over the property as the sky became awash in hues of orange and red. Noting that my senses already felt… different.

In the distance, upon the sloping hills that led into the woods, a few fires flickered, plumes of dark smoke marring the ruby sky—the unlit bonfires I’d spotted two days ago. I needed to find my mate, I reminded myself.

The drums turned faster—louder. Though I’d grown accustomed to the smell of magic after not being around it since I was a child, my nose pricked with the rising tang of metal, stronger than I’d yet sensed it. I took a step forward, behind me, my long shadow seemed to pulse to the beat of the drums.

Even the garden, usually buzzing with the orchestra of its denizens, had quieted to hear the drums. There was a string—a string tied to my gut that pulled me toward those hills, commanding me to go, to hear—to feel the drums...

Smoke and magic hung thick in the air. There were hundreds of High Fae milling about, I could identify which court they came from but some I couldn’t. I hadn’t seen fae look this… well fae ever. I could feel the land and their magic pulsing around. It was beautiful, intoxicating to say the least.

I stuck to the shadows as best I could as I made my way through the crowd, my human features caused by the blood spell my mother put on me, hidden in the shadows of my hood. I prayed that the smoke and countless scents of various High Fae and faeries were enough to cover my human smell, but I checked to ensure that my ash daggers were still at my sides anyway as I moved deeper into the celebration.

Though a cluster of drummers played on one side of the fire, the faeries flocked to a trench between two nearby hills. I followed them, savoring the pulsing beat of the drums as it resonated through the earth and into the soles of my feet. No one looked twice in my direction.

I almost slid down the steep bank as I entered the hollow. At one end, a cave mouth opened into a soft hillside. Its exterior had been adorned with flowers and branches and leaves, and I could make out the beginnings of a pelt-covered floor just past the cave mouth. What lay inside was hidden from view as the chamber veered away from the entrance, but firelight danced upon the walls.

Whatever was occurring inside the cave—or whatever was about to happen—was the focus of the shadowy faeries as they lined either side of a long path leading to it. The path wended between the trenches among the hills, and the High Fae swayed in place, moving to the rhythm of the drumming, whose beats sounded in my stomach.

I watched them sway, then shifted on my feet. The string—the string I had felt tugged once. Twice. I scanned the fire-lit area, trying to peer through the veil of night and smoke. I know he’s here. My mate. But I hadn’t found him… Not yet.

None of the masked faeries paid me any heed. They remained along the path, more and more of them coming each minute. The Great Rite was going to begin soon then.

I made my way back up the hillside and stood along the edge of a bonfire near the trees, watching the faeries. I was about to make my way towards the shadow covered woods, my senses were beginning to feel more fae—more animalistic than fae, when someone grasped my arm and whirled me around.

Lucien.

He snarled in my face, “What are you doing out here?”

I twisted out of his hold, and he huffed, “I told you to stay in the house.”

“And I told you no.”

He sighed deeply, “Y/n, you can’t just do whatever--" he turned to look at what I was staring at and when he didn’t see it, he looked back at me. “—What the fuck are you looking at?”

I grabbed his face, turning his head, “Feyre.” There she was, my sister with a high fae whose black hair gleamed like a raven’s feathers. He had blue eyes that were so deep they were violet. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was the High Lord of Night.

Rhysand.

Lucien cursed violently, then went to Feyre. I was stuck in my spot looking where Rhysand once stood. He was alive… He was here. I had to find him. I needed to talk to him.

I scanned the crowd frantically trying to find him, the darkness beyond the crowd beckoned me, called to me and I felt eyes watching me. But, everytime I tried to follow it, the string that had been tugging all night pulled me away, farther and farther.

Without realizing it I’d rejoined the crowd and Lucien appeared next to me. The drum beats picked up, making the flames of the bonfires flicker with each pulse. He was standing so close to me I could feel the radiating heat of his body and scent his arousal but, not just his, the other faeries too.

His eyes settled on my lips and tracked the way my tongue swept over them as I licked them. He took a step forward, reaching to cup my face when suddenly a tall high fae male had a dagger pressed against my tanned throat.

“Thank you for finding her for me, brother.” The male with the same red hair as Lucien said, but instead of russet eyes his were amber

Standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen and the string in my chest seemed to glow and warm in response to his presence.

Brother. His brother. My mate, he found me.

Lucien snarled at him, “Eris, if you hurt her—“ The tip of his dagger pushing into the soft pale skin of his brother’s throat.

“He won’t,” I cut him off. “He won’t hurt me. Will you, Eris?”

His lips were set in a feral grin that would make anyone else run but, you weren’t just anyone. “Never, little flame,” he promised.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11

Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle @sleepylunarwolf @cutie232 @meepmeep-318 @belledawnidk @fandomrejects @wasntpriscilla @brandywineeeee @consultinghuntresshasthetardis

*If you would like to be added to the taglist for this story or to my general taglist, please either reply to this post or send me a message.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #eris vanserra #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris #eris acotar #eris fanfic #eris smut #eris x reader #bound in flames

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Sooo idk if u take requests and this is super angst but it’s been in my mind. Kinda like ghosts and mirages can u write a fic where jay finds readers (his gf) notebook and sees that she’s suicidal? And how he stops her? If this is too much angst I get it. Mwah !

TW: Suicide/self harm/mentions of attempts. STRONG topics, this was difficult to write but if it brings comfort to someone in need, I hope so. Please be advised.

- -

Before Jason was killed, he had natural ideas of death, as did everyone else.

What did heaven look like? Was it a fluffy clouded paradise? Would people find eternal happiness sitting by crystallize rivers glimmering in the sun, feasting on ripe fruits like Adam and Eve had done before them?

Everyone’s ideals were different, Jason’s had always changed. However, he liked the idea of this heaven, enjoying the possibilities of seeing his old pets running to him once the time came.

Just like the torch passed from one Robin to the next, things unexpectedly change.

When Jason died, there was nothing.

No heaven, no hell, no happiness. Maybe God held his soul on standby because he knew he’d return to the living. He wasn’t happy about it for the longest time.

Luckily, a piece of heaven blessed itself in a person such as yourself. Your smile as bright as sunshine, your heart as sweet and pure as gold. He’s never met anyone so happy, so free spirited and optimistic.

He didn’t mean to read it. He really didn’t.

He watched you write in journals all the time, ripping out pages when it came to grocery lists or phone numbers to shove in your backpack before leaving the door. He was only looking for a shopping list you texted him to take a photo of, only to come across the tragedies you’ve dealt with and still carry.

His heart absolutely shattered when he reads the vivid darkness of your sorrows embodied within the pages of your private journal. A painful burn forming deep in his chest, right in his own heart.

What worried him the most was your latest entry, dated on a Monday in fresh ink. Monday. Yesterday.

When you came home in question as to why Jason never sent you that list, you didn’t expect him to be sitting in the living room. His head hung low, his hands clenched together in desperation.

He didn’t bother to say anything. He didn’t need to.

Your journal, your cursed, dark brown journal was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

Your silence screams out to him, his head turning to acknowledge your presence. He stands slowly, watching you carelessly drop your backpack onto the floor, looking absolutely horrified at what’s to come.

“Jason,” you say, staying right where you were at the door. “Stop. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He asks, staring at you with somber eyes.

“Stop that,” you instantly reply, feeling your heart beat much faster. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that!” You exclaim, your breathing growing more frantic. “Like I’m ... like there’s something wrong with me! Cut it out! Stop it!”

“I’m not—!” Jason’s voice accidentally raised, forcing himself to hold his tongue, his hands balled tightly by his sides.

“There’s nothing wrong with you baby,” He begins to say, only met with your shaking head.

“No, y’know what? Don’t bother,” you reply, quickly reaching for your keys.

You weren’t going to take that kind of conversation from anyone else ever again. The same, horrid words you’ve heard from your parents, your siblings, your friends.

You’re sick. How could you do this? What’s wrong with you? You need to be locked up somewhere.

Bold, accusatory statements that hurt worse than any knife ever could.

“You read it. It wouldn’t be sitting there if you hadn’t! I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you tell me that I’m—“

“Just stop!” He rips the keys from your hands, taking you by surprise at how fast he reached you. He nearly traps you against the door, hands grasping firmly along your shoulders.

“There’s nothing, baby!” He states right to your face, making your eyes grow wide. “There’s nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing. I won’t let you think there is, get that shit out of your head right now!”

“B-but,” you start to babble, thick tears heading in the borders of your eyes. “I- I just -“

“You’re not crazy,” he interrupts, cradling your face in his heavy, trembling hands. “You’re not sick. Theirs nothing wrong with you, y’hear me? Nothing! Not a damn thing!”

Jason exhales a pained laugh, his own eyes spewing with tears. “Take it from me, babygirl. I’ve already died once, I’ll die again if you think like this.”

Speechless stole your ability to think, your ability to breathe. Your throat constricts around an invisible ball of molten steel, making you choke on your tears.

“I know you don’t wanna go, Princess,” Jason’s voice grows softer, both his thumbs making work in wiping your tears. “I know you don’t. You’re just tired, baby. That’s all.”

Slowly, you find yourself nodding, watching him nod with you.

“I’m tired,” you admit, gasping heavily in your newly weakened vulnerability. “I’m so tired, Jason.”

He holds you close to his body, clutching you as if saving you from a devastating fall. He knows this pain all too well, and you’ve saved him from it.

“I know,” he exhales, keeping you from withering away in the safety of his arms. “I gotcha now, okay baby? M’not going anywhere, jus’ let it out. I’m a big guy, I can take it.”

His biggest regret was letting those entries fill up three quarters of the journal. How many more did you fill up before then? How much pain do you carry in your heart that you need to hide via forcefully brighter smiles?

He wasn’t going to let this go on much longer. He needed you to know that someone in this harsh world understood the exhaustion, and that it was okay.

He didn’t know if Heaven or Hell truly existed, or if it was all just some huge hole of dark nothingness. He didn’t want you finding out either, feeling he’d be torn at the idea of bringing you to a Lazarus pit, but relenting on the possible side effects you’d suffer for it.

You deserved nothing of what Jason experienced, the man himself now feeling hellbent to protect you from it.

There wasn’t going to be any attempt, because Jason would do everything in his damn power to make sure that never, ever fucking happens.

Medications were locked, except the essentials, which even he supervised. He’d order from your favorite restaurants for a short while, preventing any use of kitchen cutlery.

He’d dote, making sure you kept your hygiene maintained. He’d enjoy sitting beside you outside the tub while you bathed, reading to you to keep you company. Though on certain days, you’d find his eyes flicker from the paper towards your hands when you had to use a razor, which even he was iffy about, and hid once you were done.

He never said he didn’t trust you, but don’t really be surprised if your razor is replaced with hair removal cream for the first few weeks.

If you were comfortable enough to seek out therapy, he’d offer up numbers of therapists he’s visited and trusted, helping you keep up schedules. After each session, he’d surprise you with flowers and boba on a park walk, or drive outside of Gotham.

Progress would be made, but progress wouldn’t move forward without your weak moments.

You’d have your days where your motivation was as stubborn as Jason’s mentality, refusing to listen to the things he said, or not bothering to get dressed for your next scheduled session.

Depression is horrid, but he understood. He was the most patient man you knew, cradling your body close to his in the middle of the night, muffling your minutes of screaming sobs against his chest, gently prying your hands away from your forearms when you dig your nails in a little too deep.

He’d remain awake as long as he had to, cradling your hands in his until your agony mellowed out, lulling you back to sleep. He was being the person he wished he had by his side long before he met you, back when he was alone and had no one.

Jason looked forward to the days you’d smile again, genuine happiness being a fuel to those pleasant flames. It’s okay if it would take a long time, keep giving him your tears. He can handle it.

You were the greatest gift he’s ever gotten in this fucked up world, not even you were going to take it away from him.

- -

I don’t know what death is like, nor do I know of all beliefs everyone has of them, but I do know about suicidal thoughts/intentions and having experienced them, please know, as tired as you may be, it isn’t worth it. My inbox is open if you ever need it. Dosent matter if you’re a stranger, let’s not be ❤️

#this hurt #jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #dc jason todd #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd dc #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x plus size reader #angst #heavy angst #tw self destruction #tw sui implied

[moremaybank]

YOUR EYES OPEN — j.m

day six childhood friends to lovers with jj maybank

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

summary you and jj visit a fortune teller for a laugh at the first annual obx carnival, but her predictions end up coming true. (loosely inspired by all american 3x07)

warnings jj licking your fingers in a non-sexual way (lmao), pretty sure that's it. just hella fluff with bestie!jj

obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; jj masterlist

“For a moment your eyes open and you know.” - Keane

You plucked a tuft of pink cotton candy from the cone in your hand. “Last piece. You want it?”

“Hell yeah. Give it to me.” JJ grabbed your wrist gently, bringing it toward his face so he could eat it. He goofily licked your fingertips to get rid of the stickiness, and your nose scrunched up in disgust. 

“Ew, J. You actually have no boundaries.” You wiped the residue of his saliva on his shirt.

“We’ve been best friends since we were nine. What boundaries do we have left?” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t argue with that. You and JJ had seen it all together. You’d been as vulnerable and open as two people could get with each other. You shouldn’t have been shocked by his…gross action. The man passed all kinds of gas around you twenty-four-seven. He’d eaten foods far past their expiry dates. You’d seen him drink spoiled milk on a dare (though you can’t say he wouldn’t have done it if he wasn’t dared to).

That’s not to say you two weren’t good for each other, because you undoubtedly were. JJ’s wild spirit helped you break out of your shell. He pushed you to try new things, push your boundaries, and make you see that you had all this untapped power inside you. You didn’t think he could surprise you any further, but he still managed to every day, even now in your twenties. 

On his side of things, your calming presence grounded him. It provided him with the safety and the domestic feeling he’d longed for while living his life with Luke Maybank as his father. No matter how chaotic things became, all he had to do was take one look at you, and his mind calmed. You, even as a child, gave him a comfort he never knew he needed until he had it in the palm of his hand. 

“I guess that’s true. You’re still gross though.” 

He winked at you with a cheeky grin. “You love it.”

The sun began to dip below the horizon, and the warm hues of pink, orange and yellow painted the sky as the two of you made your way through the colourful maze of booths and rides. Laughter and music filled the air, and your mouths watered at the sweet smells of funnel cakes and caramel apples. 

Your eyes wandered over all the activities surrounding you, and one specific booth caught your eye. You tugged on JJ’s arm. “J, look!” 

His eyes followed your pointed finger to a quaint, candlelit tent a little ways from where you both stood. He squinted, trying to focus on the large lettering of the sign above the booth. “Madame Zara’s Mystical Fortunes. Are you for real?” 

He couldn’t deny that it piqued his interest at least a little bit, but he also wasn’t sure about wasting ten bucks on words of ‘wisdom’ that you could easily get out of a fortune cookie. 

“Why not? It’s all in good fun anyway.”

“Y/N/N, I can give you a fortune right now for free. Watch this.” JJ stood, raising his index fingers to his temples and closing his eyes. His voice picked up a spooky tone. “I predict that we’re going to go on the tilt-a-whirl in the next thirty seconds.” 

His eyes open, and he points to the ride right next to you, clasping a hand over his heart with a shocked look on his face. “Oh my god, look! The tilt-a-whirl! I was right!”

You rolled your eyes at his mockery but still let out a laugh. “Come on. Do it for me?”

JJ looked into your pleading eyes and your jutted-out bottom lip, and felt himself starting to crack. He’d always had a soft spot for you. How could he deny your wishes when you looked at him like that? 

He let out a large sigh. “Fine. But we’re hitting the tilt-a-whirl as soon as we’re done. And I don’t want any complaints about how fast I spin us.” 

“Deal.” 

You stepped into the dimly lit tent, where an older woman with piercing eyes welcomed you. “Welcome, young ones. I sense that you seek answers.” 

You and JJ exchanged amused glances as you spoke. “Sure. Why not?”

She gestured for you to sit across from her at a small table, covered in a rich, purple velvet cloth. She took your right hand and JJ’s left, closing her eyes as her fingers traced invisible patterns on your palms. 

“There’s an abundance of energy between you two,” she began in a hushed tone. “This night you embark upon…it’ll offer you both clarity, unlocking secrets hidden in the depths of your hearts.” 

JJ laughed softly as a smirk took over his features. “Clarity, huh?” 

You kicked his leg under the table, trying not to laugh. Madame Zara continued, though, unfazed by your shared skepticism. 

“Remember, clarity often reveals truths you’ve chosen to ignore.” 

You thanked the fortune teller and exited the tent. “That was…something.”

“It was a load of bull,” JJ laughed. “I mean, clarity? Clarity about what?” 

“Who knows,” you replied. “Alright, we can go on your beloved tilt-a-whirl now.” JJ grinned at that, grabbing your hand and tugging you over to the ride. 

You two spent the evening going on every ride you could manage and indulging in all the sweets you came across. You’d be sick to your stomachs by the night’s end, but you couldn’t bring yourselves to care.

The night wore on, and you found yourselves atop the ferris wheel, overlooking the brightly lit carnival below you. The twinkling stars above you seemed to be in perfect alignment. JJ had grown eerily quiet, which was odd for him, seeing as he was always bouncing off the walls with an energy you couldn’t quite comprehend. 

You turned to look at him, planning to break the silence, when you caught his heated gaze. Your brows furrowed. “What’s that look for?” 

He licked his lips, turning his body toward you slightly. “Nothin’, I was just thinkin’ that psychic lady was right.” 

“Right about what?” You asked. All of a sudden, things had turned serious, which was rare for you two. Everything about your friendship was fun and lighthearted, but it didn’t feel that way anymore. At least, not at that moment. 

“About me needing clarity. Y/N, we’ve been best friends for so long. I mean, we’ve been through everything together. But sometimes…sometimes it feels like there’s somethin’ more. Somethin’ we both kinda deny.” 

Your eyes searched his for an understanding. “What are you saying, J?” 

“I think— Nah, I know. You’re my world. You make everything better, make everything brighter. I love you, pretty girl. I’m in love with you.” 

Your heart raced as you processed his words. Suddenly, the fortune teller’s prediction didn’t seem so foolish or ridiculous. In that moment, that same clarity JJ felt washed over you. The lightbulb switched on inside your head. You realized that you weren’t just in love with the idea of your friendship; you were in love with him. 

“I’m in love with you too, J,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand found his, and your fingers intertwined. He smiled at you brighter than he ever had, and his eyes sparkled as the moonlight bounced off of them. 

“Can I kiss you now?” 

“You definitely should.”

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